by Neil Plakcy
I sat back and stretched. I had been hunched over the computer so long my arms and legs felt numb. When I looked up, I saw Dylan watching me. “You have another date this weekend?” he asked.
His T-shirt advertised a concert by a local rapper, and a heavy silver chain hung from his waistband, pulling his pants down to expose a strip of plaid boxers.
“Sort of,” I said. “Just dinner.”
Dylan looked at me with something like awe. He wasn’t a bad-looking guy, a bit nerdy and unkempt. I bet he’d clean up well. “Wow. Not a hookup. A real date with a girl.”
“Um, not a girl,” I said. “I’m gay, you know.” Though I didn’t want to broadcast my sex life around the office, I didn’t want to lie either.
“Oh. I didn’t know. But that’s cool.” His face brightened. “Hey, gay guys always know girls, right? You know any you can introduce me to?”
“Not really. Why don’t you ask Lilah? I’ll bet she knows lots of girls.”
He shook his head. “Already asked Kevin, and he said she didn’t.”
“Huh?”
“You didn’t know? Kevin and Lilah are, like, doing it.”
“No, I didn’t. Kevin and Lilah, huh?” As I thought about it, I realized Lilah was pretty friendly with Kevin. And he was the most presentable of the programmers.
He nodded. “Yeah. I wanted to ask her out, but I waited too long.”
This was the first time I’d talked to Dylan about anything other than programming. “Uh, Dylan,” I said. “Don’t take this the wrong way or anything, but...if you want to meet a girl, you’ve got to clean up your act.” I sniffed. “Like, you know, shower more, get your hair cut, that kind of thing.”
“You think?”
“Dude, I’m kind of a horndog,” I said. “I’ll sleep with most anybody with a dick. But even I draw the line at hygiene.”
“You think you could, maybe, help me?”
For a minute I thought he was asking me to shower with him. Not an altogether unpleasant idea; like I said, I thought Dylan was cute underneath all the faux-rapper stuff. “Okay. Here’s what you do. Ask Mila where Boris gets his hair cut. He probably pays a ton, but even at those fancy salons they have junior stylists who charge way less.”
He grabbed a pad and started to make notes.
“Take a shower every morning before you come to work,” I said. “Make sure everything you put on is clean.”
I picked up my cell and pressed the speed dial for Gavin. “You working tomorrow afternoon?” I asked him.
“I get off at two.”
“Can you go up to Aventura with me and a work buddy? He needs some help shopping for clothes.”
“Is he a troll?”
“Nah. Just needs some help.”
He agreed, and I hung up. I turned back to Dylan. “My roommate is a part-time model, and he’s really into clothes. We’ll take you out shopping tomorrow.”
“That’s awesome, Larry. Thanks.”
It was ironic more than awesome, that I’d be offering dating advice to anyone. But Dylan needed help, and I’d been fortunate enough to get similar advice from guys in the past. Consider it charitable giving.
I discovered that Dylan still lived with his folks, in Aventura. So I arranged to meet him at the mall at three the next day. When I left, Dylan looked like he was ready to celebrate a birthday or something.
10 – Ocean View
I rode the bus home with Bruno Mars playing in my headphones and then took a long, careful shower, making sure all my private parts were nice and fresh. Then I dragged Gavin into my bedroom to help me dress.
“Do you own any clothes that aren’t awful?” he asked, flipping through my closet. He pulled out a bright yellow polyester workout shirt. “My God. You must look like an ear of corn in this.”
I had the underwear figured out. A pair of boxer briefs that pushed my goods forward and shaped my butt. “Save the drama for your mama, Gavin. Pick out something sexy for me to wear. I’ve got to look hot.”
“Easier said than done,” he grumbled. “Where are those black pants of yours?”
“At the end. Everything is in order by color, doofus.”
He stepped back as if realizing for the first time that my clothes were grouped together in the order of the color spectrum. “Do you have OCD or something?” he asked.
“No. It’s easier to put everything away when I know where it goes.”
“You are something, Larry.” He pulled out a pair of black silk pants and a clingy black T-shirt. “Try these on.”
I stepped into the pants, then pulled the T-shirt over my head and tucked it in. “Not bad,” Gavin said. “Now take the T-shirt off.”
I went to pull it off, but he stopped me. “No, dummy. Make it sexy, like I’m this guy.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Sure, you can.” Gavin plopped onto my bed and lay back, his hands behind his head. “Go on, show me.”
I felt my face turning red, but I knew Gavin wouldn’t let up until I did what he wanted. I lifted one edge of the shirt’s hem slowly, giving him a glimpse of smooth flesh, and he nodded appreciatively.
“Show your abs,” he said.
I lifted the shirt farther, twisting my body so I was presenting my abs to him, and he smiled. I pulled the shirt up, revealing my chest bit by bit, until all my skin was revealed. I tugged it over my head and tossed it to the bed, then ran a hand through my hair.
I noticed that Gavin had a hard-on. That was a good sign. If Gavin, who’d already had half the gay men on South Beach, was turned on, then things ought to work out fine with Victor.
“My work is done here,” Gavin said, getting up from the bed. He sauntered across the room with a smile on his face.
The night was hot and humid, so I stayed in the lobby until I saw Victor’s midnight-blue Porsche pull up. I was so eager to get out to him that I stumbled on the step and had to grab the rail for support. A bum was passing by, either an old man with a big belly or an old woman with big fallen tits—I couldn’t tell at first glance. “Watch yourself, sonny,” the person croaked.
“Yeah, I will, thanks,” I called as I reached Victor’s car. The door opened smoothly in that creepy way, and I slid inside.
“You look good enough to eat,” Victor said, smiling at me.
“Well, you never know how a meal will end,” I said, proud that I was able to actually say something when my heart was beating so fast.
“I thought we’d have dinner at BLT Steak at the Betsy,” he said. “It’s right across the street from my building, so I can park easily.”
“Sounds great. But you didn’t have to pick me up. I could have met you.”
“I’d never expect a date to walk somewhere to meet me. And besides, as you’ve already seen, I love driving this car.”
“I love riding in it.”
He downshifted, and his hand rested on my thigh. It felt warm and tingly.
We parked in his building’s garage and walked across the street to the restaurant. It had a very cool South Beach vibe, with big windows that looked out at the ocean, tables and chairs the color of sand, and small coconut palm trees in planters. The host welcomed Victor by name and led us to a secluded table at the back of the opulently decorated room. Almost immediately a server was at the table with a tray of Gruyère cheese popovers and a request for our drink orders.
“I’ll have a blueberry lemon drop martini,” Victor said. “Larry?”
I had no idea what Victor had ordered, but I said, “I’ll have the same.”
“May I see your ID, please?” the waiter asked.
“Franco,” Victor said. “Do I look like the kind of guy who dates men who aren’t even old enough to drink?”
My cock jumped at how casually Victor introduced me as someone he was dating. “It’s no problem,” I said, reaching for my wallet.
“No, it is a problem,” Victor said. He looked at the waiter.
“I’ll be right back with your drinks
,” Franco said and turned away.
There was something very sexy about the way Victor took charge of the situation. “You must be an amazing businessman,” I said.
“Amazing in many ways.” He smiled. “And now to the menu.”
I had never been to such a fancy place, where every entrée had an elaborate description, where a plate didn’t simply come with a baked potato and mushy broccoli.
Victor must have noticed my confusion, because he asked, “Shall I order for you?”
“Sure.”
When Franco reappeared with our cocktails, Victor said, “As appetizers, we’ll split the selection of East and West Coast oysters and the lobster salad Cobb style. And we’ll share the porterhouse as well.” He looked at me. “Medium rare all right with you?”
I usually ordered my meat well-done, because that’s the way my dad always had, but I said, “If you think that’s the best way.”
“Excellent. Creamed spinach and the potato gratin as sides.” He closed the menu and handed it to the waiter.
He lifted his martini glass, and I clinked mine against it. “To an exciting and enjoyable evening,” he said, and the wolfish look in his eyes made my skin tingle.
The martini tasted like sweet lemonade, and I drank it too fast. Another was delivered with the appetizers. Franco expertly divided the salad into two portions and left the platter of raw oysters in the center of the table.
“Let me guess,” Victor said. “You’ve never had oysters before.”
I shook my head.
“Well, I am delighted to introduce you to the first of your sensuous treats this evening.” He lifted one of the biggest oysters to his mouth and slurped down the amorphous gray blob in the center, keeping his eyes on mine the whole time. Then he licked his lips.
“They say oysters are an aphrodisiac,” he said. “Try one.”
I mimicked his gesture. The texture was slimy, but the taste was briny and rich, and I loved it. “Wow. It’s awesome.”
“I hope you say that about everything tonight.” He shifted his leg so it was against mine, and I shivered with anticipation.
“I hope so too,” I said.
The rest of the meal did not disappoint. The salad, the steak, and the sides were delicious, and Victor kept the conversation going so I never felt awkward—just a delicious sense of anticipation of everything that was to come.
“Dessert?” Franco asked after he had cleared away the empty platters.
Victor shook his head. “We’ll save that for later. The check, please.”
Once again, I was a bit unsteady on my feet as we left the restaurant. Too much alcohol, too much rich food, too much sexual stimulation from Victor’s touch and his innuendos. I was on an amazing ride that I never wanted to end.
We rode the elevator up to Victor’s apartment, and he ushered me into the living room in front of him. The furniture was simple, a blocky sofa and chairs and a huge pottery vase on the coffee table with orchid stems stuck out of it.
A mural of men in bathing suits lounging around an infinity pool hung on one wall. But what really caught my eye was the balcony, which looked out at the ocean. Victor saw me staring and said, “Come, let me show you the view.”
He rolled back the massive sliding glass door, and we stepped outside. The wind brushed against us as we stood at the railing. It was so dark ahead, all I could make out was the sand and then the water, with a ship far offshore.
From behind me, Victor nuzzled the back of my neck. I had never realized that was such an erogenous zone; it felt like I was melting. “I want to make love to you,” he whispered into my ear. “Right here. Do you want that, Larry?”
It was the question I’d been asking myself since my lunch with Victor. Did I want him? Or did I want Julian?
Victor was behind me, and he wanted me. Where was Julian? What did he want?
I knew what my body wanted. Fuck Julian Argento. If he wanted to have me, he should have asked. I leaned back against Victor and said, “Oh, yes.”
As he opened a box on the table beside me, he said, “Put your hands on the railing.”
I did, and suddenly I realized he had slipped a pair of handcuffs around my wrists, through the top rail. Fear surged through me. “What are you doing?” I asked.
“Setting the stage,” he said. “Don’t worry; I won’t hurt you.” Then he leaned in close. “Unless you really want me to.”
I didn’t know what to do. My cock was still hard, but my heart was beating so fast I worried it might jump out of my body. Victor reached around to my belt and unbuckled it, then undid my pants and slipped them to the floor. I stood there in my black T-shirt and my sexy boxer briefs, and I shivered.
Victor went back to his box of wonders and retrieved a bottle of lube and a condom. Then he tugged my briefs down, releasing my stiff dick to waggle in the wind. “See, you like this,” Victor murmured. “Wait until you see what’s coming.”
I heard the lube squirt and then felt Victor’s finger tickle around my hole, loosening and opening it. My heart was still beating fast, but the rest of my body was getting into the sensation. I had only been fucked once, while I was still in college, and the guy who did it didn’t have much technique. It hurt so much I made him take it out.
Victor knew what he was doing. I gripped the balcony railing as he spread my ass cheeks and penetrated me with his finger. It was such an amazing sense of fullness back there, and my groin tingled in response.
I heard his pants unzip, and the condom packet rip. Another squirt of lube and then his dick was nosing against my hole, seeking entrance. With a big thrust of his hips, Victor was in me, and I gulped at the starburst of pain.
He reached up under my T-shirt for my nipples as he began a slow, sensuous in-and-out movement, his dick sliding against the walls of my ass, breaching farther and farther in each time.
“Oh, yeah,” Victor murmured as he fucked me. “You’ve never done this before, have you?”
“Not like this.”
“A virgin ass,” he said, and I didn’t correct him. “My favorite kind.”
He accelerated his rhythm. “I knew it the first time I saw you. That you were an innocent kid with a sweet ass and I was going to make you mine.”
He began hitting my prostate with every thrust, and my body roiled with pleasure. I wanted to reach down and jack my dick, but I couldn’t with my hands cuffed to the rail.
“I’m going to make you come without ever touching yourself. I am a master cocksman, and you will never,” he grunted, “never, have another man like me.”
With the word “me,” he jammed into me so far I felt his pubes scratching the inside of my ass, and I came with an agonized spurt that shot out of my dick and arced down toward the beach. Victor came too, and I felt the heat of his jism pooling at the end of the condom.
He leaned down to my neck, where he bit me.
Fuck, was he some kind of vampire? But he didn’t break the skin, and then he backed away from me. He unlocked the handcuffs and then handed me a baby wipe from his magic box.
I turned around to face him and leaned my naked, aching ass against the railing. My dick sagged, and I wiped the come off.
“That was,” I began, then stopped. I didn’t have any words to express what I felt.
“If you liked that,” Victor said, “wait until you see what else I have in store for you.”
11 – Transformation
Victor went inside, and I pulled my shorts and pants up. I was still drunk, and the excitement of my massive orgasm was floating around inside me. I turned back to the water and stared out at the darkness. I recognized Orion from the three stars that hung from his belt—his sword, I’d been taught, though right then it looked like a dick.
“It’s a beautiful view, even at night,” Victor said from behind me.
I was almost afraid to turn around—I had no idea what else he had in store for the evening. But I did turn and saw he carried two shot glasses. “Sambuca,” he sa
id, handing one to me. He drained his in a single gulp, and I followed his lead. The liquor burned on its way down my throat.
“I’ll get my keys and drive you home,” he said.
“Oh, no, you don’t have to. I’d like to walk. Clear my head.”
“You sure cleared out the small head,” Victor said.
“What was up with the handcuffs?” I asked, more curious than angry. “I mean, I wanted to be here. I wasn’t going to walk away.”
“You would have touched yourself if your hands were free. I wanted you to see that I could make you come without doing anything.”
“Oh. Okay.”
He leaned forward and kissed me gently. I could taste the licorice on his lips. “I’ll walk you to the elevator,” he said.
He led me back out through the living room to the hallway and pressed the button for the elevator for me. “I’ll call you next week,” he said.
“Sure. That’d be great.”
The elevator doors slid open, and Victor leaned forward and kissed me again. Then he smiled and backed away.
I rode the elevator to the lobby and walked outside in a stupor. The adrenaline boost had worn off, and I began to feel the alcohol. My ass hurt, and the leftover lube inside felt squishy. I had to focus to find my way home.
Manny and Gavin were either out or asleep; both their doors were closed. I was glad, because I wanted time to think about Victor. The handcuffs freaked me out a bit, but he had a reasonable explanation. And everything else about the evening had been awesome—flirting with him, eating that amazing dinner, even the view from his apartment.
I cleaned up, drank a lot of water, and took a couple of aspirin, then stripped down and got into bed. For a moment I thought of Julian Argento, wondering how he liked his sex, but then I was out. I slept until almost noon on Saturday.
When I got to the kitchen, Manny was there fixing himself some Cuban coffee, and I gratefully accepted a cup. I’m not a big coffee geek; my stimulant beverage of choice is usually an energy drink, but I needed to wake up.