Pretty Man

by Ryan Field

  Josh was fucking hard and fast now. He slapped Roland’s ass. “You know what I’m going to do now? I’m gonna cream that tight hole. I’m gonna blow seed all the way up that ass-pussy, baby.”

  The bed shook. Roland gripped the sheets so he wouldn’t lose his balance. “Fuck me, Sir,” he begged. “Fuck my hole, Sir.”

  Josh’s balls swung back and forth. “I’m gonna fuck you and then bring all my buddies over here to take turns fucking this tight hole.” His face was red.

  “Yes, Sir!” Roland shouted. “Let your buddies fuck me, too.” He thought about Mark and Kent, and his mouth fell open.

  “Grab your cock,” Josh growled. “I’m getting close.”

  Roland’s eyes went back and his tongue fell out. Josh’s dick was hitting his prostate, and he only had to touch his own dick gently to know that he was ready to come.

  “Fuck that fucking hole!” Josh yelled. His whole body jerked a few times, and then he filled Roland with the entire load. When Roland felt Josh’s dick swell and explode, he made a few circular motions with his hips and ejaculated all over the sheets.

  Josh fell on top of Roland and pinned him down to the bed. His dick was still inside and he forced it in even deeper. His chest was soaked with perspiration and his underarms smelled like raw onions and stale, yeasty beer. Roland rested the right side of his face in Josh’s palm and inhaled the smell deeply a few times.

  “Are you okay?” Josh whispered breathlessly. “I tried not to get too rough. But those black garters look so fucking hot on your legs, man.”

  Roland smiled and pressed his lips to Josh’s palm. “You were wonderful.”

  “Your ass is so soft and tight,” Josh said. “I hate to pull out.”

  “Then don’t,” Roland said. “Keep it there as long as you want.” He smiled and clamped down tightly on young Josh’s dick so it would remain inside until he decided it was time to set it free.

  Thirty minutes later, when they’d showered and changed the sheets, Roland wanted to talk. He told Josh how devastated he’d been when he’d lost his parents at 20 years old, and how he’d met Kenneth at a bar one night. They were both young, lonely and inexperienced, and each wielded his own perspective of what the future held.

  Josh put his arm around Roland and listened quietly to the story of Kenneth and Roland hooking up that first night and moving in together a week later. Kenneth’s mother, who was totally against their relationship from the start, refused to speak to her son for almost ten years. Roland told Josh how hard he’d worked building the cosmetics business, and how Kenneth took courses in floral arranging to fill all the lonely hours. Roland said that they hadn’t had a bad sex life, but that there was always something missing.

  Josh shook his head and looked down at the sheets. “Sounds classic to me,” he said. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again.” His comment sounded smug; but his voice was soft and low, and he was shaking his head back and forth.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re both bottoms,” Josh said. “While it might be possible for two tops to be in a serious long-term relationship, it’s not quite as easy for two bottoms. I’m sure it can be done, but I’m not sure how happy it will be.”

  Roland jerked away and stared at him. “That’s not so,” he said, “We are both versatile. We used to take turns bottoming all the time.”

  Josh shook his head. “You really believe this? What did you do, flip coins? Seriously, think about it for a minute. I mean really think about it. When you see me, what is your first thought? Is it, ‘Ah, well, I’d like to bend that guy over and fuck him,’ or is it, ‘I’d like to bend over for him and spread my legs wide?’”

  Roland sat back and thought. “But you’re different.”

  “Seriously?” Josh asked. “What about my two buddies the other night? Did you want to fuck them? Because if that was the case, you could have. But you didn’t. You pulled down your pants and wiggled your pretty ass for those guys instead. You couldn’t wait for them to take turns tagging you.” He smiled. “And there’s nothing wrong with that. You’re a great, normal guy who likes sex. It’s awesome.”

  Roland couldn’t find the right words to argue back. “But Kenneth always said he was more of a top than a bottom.”

  Josh laughed. He reached down and squeezed Roland’s ass, hard. “If he was really a top guy, and that’s really what he preferred, he never would have let your hot ass get away. Trust me, I can smell a bottom a mile away. Your Kenneth is only interested in getting tagged.”

  “I can top if I want to,” Roland said.

  “I’m sure you can,” Josh said. “But it’s not the same as wanting to top all the time. I know how that feels. I’ve never been interested in getting fucked, but when I look at your ass all I want to do is get inside and get off.” He reached for Roland’s hand and squeezed it gently. “There is nothing wrong with being a total bottom, or a total top. It’s normal, and I think that’s why we’re so good together in bed.”

  “So you don’t believe that anyone can be versatile?” Roland said.

  “I’m sure some guys are, but not most.”

  “Maybe you’re right. Maybe the big problem was that Kenneth and I were both bottoms. But I can tell you this from experience: sex is not everything in a relationship. Not if you want it to go for the long term. Intimacy and respect and simple kissing are just as important as hardcore fucking.”

  Josh yawned and stretched his arms above his head. “I have a rule about intimacy and kissing,” he said. “I don’t do it unless I really mean it.”

  Roland wondered why they hadn’t kissed. They’d fucked and sucked all over the city that week, but they hadn’t kissed once—not so much as a peck on the cheek. “I’m getting tired,” he said, changing the subject. “Let’s go to sleep and talk later.”

  He snuggled against Josh and sighed. “But just so you know. I’m only a total bottom with you. With anyone else, I’m versatile.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, because I plan to nail you again first thing in the morning.” Roland sank back and spread his legs wider so Josh could play with his hole as they drifted off to sleep. “You have a one-track mind,” he said.

  “And you love it,” Josh said, circling Roland’s hole with the tip of his middle finger.

  Chapter Eight

  Roland planned to take Josh on Thursday night to one of the sex clubs along Dungeon Alley, but Donna called early Thursday morning while Josh was in the shower and invited Roland to The Met that night.

  “I know it’s short notice,” she said, “but I have box seats and it’s ‘Doctor Atomic.’ You can bring anyone you like.” Roland had been dying to see “Dr. Atomic” since first hearing about it in San Francisco during a trip to California wine country; and it had been almost two years since Roland had been to The Met. He doubted Josh was a dedicated opera fan, but the thought of taking him out in black tie made Roland smile. They could get dressed and go out together as a couple, where they didn’t have to deal with Kenneth and social obligations.

  “I’d like that,” he told Donna, “and I’d like to bring a guest. But there’s one condition: I don’t want to discuss business.”

  She lowered her voice. “I wouldn’t do that, Roland. I just thought you might like this. I’ll send a car.”

  Josh and Roland were leaving the next morning for Bucks County to attend the Ashley Foundation’s Garden Party (and a weekend with Kenneth), so Roland wanted their last night in Manhattan to be special. When Josh came out of the shower, Roland told him the plan. “We’re going to The Met tonight, and I’ll tell Russell to make sure our clothes are ready by 6:00.”

  “That’s cool,” Josh said, rubbing a towel between his legs to dry his balls, “I’ve never been there.”

  Roland crossed his fingers behind his back. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”

  He had to remind himself that his conversations with Josh were business deals, blunt and efficient. Kenneth would have clenched
his fists and shouted if Roland made plans for The Met without asking his opinion first. But Josh just smiled and continued rubbing his dick with the towel.

  “We’re going to meet Donna, the woman you know from Justin’s school,” Roland said, sitting down at the desk in front of his laptop. He wanted to check his e-mail and go over a few accounts.

  Josh crossed the room and stood in front of Roland, putting his semi-erect penis in his face. Josh reached down, opened Roland’s robe, and pushed it back off his shoulders. “And now we have all day to stay inside so I can do really bad things to you,” Josh said, bucking his hips like a male stripper giving a lap dance.

  Roland stared at the screen and opened his mailbox; he hadn’t checked his e-mail in more than a week. Josh’s dick bounced off the side of his face. Roland shook his head and smiled, then reached forward and wrapped his right hand around the growing erection. He kissed it gently. “You must be so tired of me by now.”

  Josh smiled and jerked his head back. “I never get tired of you. Besides, I want to make sure you get your money’s worth. After all, you are paying me $5,000 this week.”

  Josh was fully erect in Roland’s hand by then. Roland smiled and took a deep breath, opened his mouth, and swallowed the huge penis all the way to the back of his throat.

  * * *

  The long black town car was waiting for them at 7:00 p.m., which made Josh happy—it meant Russell wouldn’t be racing them uptown in the Bentley convertible. Josh wore his black Versace formal and Roland wore a new Gucci that fit his slim body perfectly.

  After giving Josh a long, slow blow job that morning, Roland went out alone to get a haircut, find a formal suit that actually fit, and find a gift Josh would appreciate. Whenever it occurred to him that Josh was young enough to be his son, Roland’s stomach wrenched. That’s why it took him even longer in the bathroom that night than usual. Josh was already fully dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed watching television, plucking small pieces of lint from his black slacks. Kenneth would have been seething, pacing the room.

  Roland was ready. He quietly stepped out of the bathroom and walked up behind Josh, reaching around with his right arm and placing a small box in front of his face. Josh looked up with curious, wide eyes. “What’s this?” he asked, taking the box from Roland’s hand.

  “Just a small gift,” Roland said.

  Josh opened the box. “What the fuck?” It was a heavy Rolex watch, sold gold with small diamonds circling the face. “Thank you!” he shouted and slipped the watch on his wrist. Josh stood and stretched out his arm, moving his wrist back and forth while the gold band dangled. “This is spectacular; I love it.” He gave Roland a huge hug and squeezed his ass a few times. But he didn’t kiss him.

  Roland put his hands in his pockets and stood there with a huge smile on his face. He’d so wanted to remain detached, but when Josh’s eyes lit up and his smiled formed,

  Roland almost stopped breathing. “C’mon,” he said, “Let’s get moving so we get there before the curtain goes up.”

  Russell was waiting downstairs in the front hall. “I’ll be home if you need anything,” he told Roland.

  “Thanks, Russell. I can always depend on you.”

  Josh and Roland rode uptown with the back windows open to get a little warm air from the street. Josh tried to get Roland to sit on his lap for a quickie. “Just pull down your pants and let me fuck you really fast. These limo drivers like that sort of thing—they like to watch.”

  “No. Be good. We’re almost there.”

  They met Donna outside. She wore a sleek black dress cinched at the waist with a wide, gold belt. Her jewelry was simple and unpretentious: a thin gold watch and two diamond studs in her ears. Roland liked her black stilettos; they reminded him of the high heels the guy in the sex shop wore. When she smiled and shook their hands, she said, “I had no idea I’d be seeing you again, Josh.” She winked at Roland and smiled again.

  Josh stared up at Lincoln Center with wide eyes and pressed his palm to his stomach. “This place is something else,” he said. “I can’t believe I’m actually going inside.” He reminded Roland of a young child going on a first time field trip to a museum. His eyes went everywhere, his mouth hung open, and there were times when he had to stare down and focus on his steps so he wouldn’t trip and fall. He watched other people walking past, and kept his hands glued to his sides so he wouldn’t brush against them and look clumsy. Still, Josh nearly tripped on his own feet a few times while admiring the sparkling chandeliers.

  They took their seats in the private box, Roland in between Donna and Josh. Josh continued to stare in every direction, and leaned forward on his elbows to look directly down over the railing. Roland bit his bottom lip hard and grabbed Josh’s knee. He wasn’t fond of heights; when Josh leaned too close to the edge, Roland felt faint.

  “You okay?” Josh asked.

  Roland took a deep breath. “I’m good. I just have to get used to the height, is all.” For 20 years Kenneth took Roland’s fear of heights casually. He liked to tease Roland about it. Kenneth’s worst trait had always been a lack of empathy.

  “What the fuck are we doing up here if you don’t like heights?” Josh asked.

  “I thought you’d like it,” Roland said, shrugging his shoulders.

  Josh shook his head and patted Roland on the knee. “If I’d known this, we’d be sitting in the orchestra.”

  But when the curtain went up and the lights dimmed, Roland sat back and forgot about his fear of heights. “Dr. Atomic” was about the Manhattan Project: the building of the atomic bomb, and the infamous Dr. Oppenheimer. Roland had always been a fan of presidential biographies, and FDR’s was his favorite. He knew Albert Einstein wrote to FDR about atomic energy, and he knew FDR wrote back expressing his interest. FDR had even been willing to organize a committee to scrutinize the use of uranium.

  The performers were magnificent, the music was stunning, and the time passed quickly. Roland watched Josh’s movements closely, concerned the opera would bore him to death. But Josh was completely engrossed. When the show ended, Josh stood. “I really liked that. It was exciting. But you can’t stop thinking about all the horror it created, too.”

  “Ah, well,” Roland said, “the underlying sagacity of immense moral contradiction was riveting. I didn’t think it could be captured quite as well as that, at least not in this form. But they did it well, indeed.”

  “That guy who played Oppenheimer had a really hot little ass, too,” Josh said, his eyes still wide and glowing. His innocence riveted Roland.

  “This was very nice,” Roland said, turning to Donna. “Thank you so much.” She shrugged. “I just thought that it might be nice to get together while you’re in town, seeing as we might be working together soon.”

  Roland smiled and lifted a finger. “You said no business tonight. You promised.” Donna casually lifted both hands in the air. “That’s not business talk; it’s just a simple comment.”

  “You guys are gonna be working together?” Josh asked.

  Roland and Donna laughed. “We’re not sure yet,” Donna said. “Roland has a few decisions to make.”

  Josh smiled and leaned forward to help Donna toward the exit. “We should go out for something now. I’m starved.”

  “I wish I could,” Donna said, “But I have to pick up my son at my mother’s now. A single mom’s life is never without challenges. Getting out is one of them.”

  “How did you get here?” Roland asked.

  “I took a taxi,” she said, “but it’s no big deal. I’m fine.”

  But Roland insisted she take the car home. He and Josh walked to Columbus Avenue and hailed a cab. Josh told the driver to drop them at West 23rd Street and Seventh Avenue. Turning to Roland, he said, “There’s a great little place near the Chelsea Hotel that has the best hot dogs in the world.”

  So they went to a grungy little place called Morton’s that served foot-long kosher hot dogs, knishes and pizza by the slice. T
he men sat in their suits at a long, Formica counter on maroon vinyl stools that wobbled and swiveled in disconnected circles in front of a plate glass window. People hesitated and stared through the smudged glass while Roland wiped mustard from Josh’s formal lapel. They each ate three hot dogs smothered in fried onions and potatoes.

  Roland forgot about his failed relationship with Kenneth and his work and threw his head back to keep onions from falling on his pants. When he sipped his orange soda, he forgot about calories, too. And when Josh told him about how hard he and Hillary were working to buy the bookstore from the guy who owned it, Roland leaned forward and listened carefully. The old guy who owned the building was reaching the age of full retirement; he wanted to sell the business and the building, but was willing to sell them separately if Josh and Hillary could come up with a down payment for the shop by January. They’d both worked hard, and had sacrificed a great deal, with Josh working as a male escort to speed things up. He was very pragmatic about it all, taking huge bites of his hot dog and talking with his mouth full. It was just sex and earning a living, he said, not the rest of his life.

  When they were on the street again, Roland’s new slacks felt a little tight. He suggested they walk instead of hailing another taxi. “I like walking,” Josh said. “And when we get back to your place, we can go up on the roof and get naked.”

  Roland smiled and punched Josh in the arm. “I’ll race you there.” He playfully pushed Josh back a few steps and started running down Seventh Avenue.

  They ran a few blocks before slowing down to a brisk walk. When they reached the brownstone, they removed their shoes so they wouldn’t startle Russell and raced again all the way up to the roof. Josh won, but only because he reached between Roland’s legs and grabbed his balls at the bottom of the last staircase. Josh broke a sweat by the time they reached the top of the stairs. Josh yanked Roland’s jacket off. “Last one in the hot tub has to get fucked raw.”