Hot for Talia

by Julian Bloom

  ***

  As it turned out, the dinner was a success from the beginning. Tim was gay, but definitely not a queen. A computer whizz, he had made a fortune from a couple of inventions in the early days of the technology revolution. His lively brain and scintillating conversation made him popular in any circle, except the most bigoted. Physically, however, he looked rather like a mantis, or perhaps a Giacometti sculpture having long bony limbs with large joints borne on size 13 feet. On top of his long neck, a craggy head looked like he’d borrowed it from an older and larger brother. Fortunately, his brilliant eyes caught everyone’s attention before they really took in the rest of him.

  Ross was blown away by him as Joel knew he would be, even before Tim confessed that when he’d been 6 or so, he’d dreamed of being a wrestler – a dream shattered by his adolescent growth sport. Tim, on his part, was instantly attracted by Ross’s masculine physicality, but as the evening progressed, even more by his personality. Tim was at first on guard with new male acquaintances of unknown sexual attitudes, but soon sensed a kindness and gentleness in Ross that put him at his ease, and their conversation was lively.

  Among Joel’s many hobbies was cooking, and he served a delicious meal for his guests with no concessions whatsoever to the prevailing obsession with healthy eating. He enjoyed using the unusual foods that had been brought into prominence by that obsession, but only for the variety they brought to his diet. The first course consisted of a slice of vegan cheese on a grain-free seed cracker, graced by a dollop of red pepper jelly, with a Matéus rosé that could stand up to it. The second, in an about face that would horrify the vegans was bratwurst with sauerkraut, dill pickles, roast potatoes and glazed carrots. That, he had decided, needed German beer, and he found a Bavarian stout that suited it perfectly. Then, after a spoonful of Kiwi sorbet to refresh their pallets, he offered a classic French chocolate mousse accompanied by a white muscatel.

  The conversation ranged widely during the meal but Ross stayed well away from his own situation. When they adjourned to the deck for coffee, however, Joel asked him what was on his mind. He began to explain, haltingly at first, but two pairs of sympathetic ears, plus the afterglow of beer and wine soon loosened his tongue.

  He finished by saying, “I don’t know what to do. I can’t see my way ahead. I’m thoroughly fucked.”

  Joel offered deep sympathy, but had little practical advice. He understood what leaving school and getting some routine job would mean to Ross.

  Tim, who had made little comment through the recital had a suggestion “Have you considered becoming a male escort?”

  Ross, after a moment of total surprise, said, “No, never.”

  “Are you repelled by the idea?”

  “Totally…. No,…. I don’t know,” he replied, flummoxed.

  “Well, you have the body and the charm to make a success of it, and it’s better paid than any alternative you’ve got, if I have a clear picture of what they are.”

  “But I have no skill at … making love. Absolutely none. In fact,” Ross took a deep breath and blurted out, “I’m a virgin.”

  “There are clients in the game who would pay dearly for the privilege of deflowering a virgin.”

  “Really?”

  “Definitely.”

  “But I wouldn’t know what to say or do?”

  “For some, that’s the appeal.”

  “I’m not even sure I could…. do it.”

  “I don’t think there’s any likelihood of that being true, and anyway, the right client would be delighted to triumph over that difficulty.”

  “I’ll have to think about it. I don’t know where to go or how to find a client, or anything about it.”

  “I can help you with that. In fact, I’d be delighted to.”

  Ross knew he’d have to have some time to deal with it. It was too much to process all at once. “Give me a day or two.”

  “OK take as long as you want.”

  That conversation pretty much ended the evening, and Tim soon left, leaving Ross his contact numbers.

  Ross was too discombobulated to leave and Joel, sensing his mood brought him a large whiskey. Ross downed half of it, waited as the heat coursed through his body, and managed, “What do you think?”

  “I actually think it’s a good idea, or at least the best idea available right now.”

  “Really. Why?”

  “Tim’s well acquainted with the high end of the sex game, so you’ve got the best guide you could hope for. You wouldn’t have to be on the street, or anything like that. He’d give you the connections that would make you an elite escort.” Joel had decided on the spur of the moment that the fact that Tim’s experience and knowledge was in a different part of the landscape was irrelevant.”

  “What would I tell Aunt Dorothy?”

  “I think she might take it pretty well – especially if you presented her with a fait accomplí She’s a game old bird. “

  They talked around the subject, with Joel, being the more experienced, filling Ross in with the details until Ross, too drunk to drive home, fell asleep on the sofa. Joel covered him tenderly with a duvet, and left him. He had an idea that what Tim had in mind was not quite what Ross thought it was, but he certainly wasn’t going to mention that. He wondered how Ross would react if his suspicion was correct, and decided that however he did would be interesting.

  Chapter 4

  Ross woke up around noon with a splitting headache. His first panicky thought was that he was up a shit creek without a paddle. But then the conversation he’d had with Tim broke through the fog. Could he do that? No way! He’d never even been naked with a woman. The thought sent cold chills down his spine. He’d have to find some other solution to his problem. Groggily, he shucked off his clothes and dragged himself into the shower, hoping that it would clear his head. And, in fact, a long blistering deluge followed by a freezing cold rinse did help.

  Emerging from the shower, he began to towel himself dry and took a long look at himself in the full-length mirror on the door. He’d never thought much about his body, but now, taking an evaluative look at it as a possible asset, he decided it wasn’t bad. No excess fat or hair, no birthmarks or acne scars – nothing to be ashamed of, in fact. His package was OK – respectably large and straight. His face certainly wasn’t ugly. Maybe being an escort wasn’t totally out of the question – at least if Tim could lead him to a client who got turned on by bashful innocence.

  The idea wasn’t totally repugnant, he decided. Aunt Dorothy had raised him to be tolerant, especially of the unfortunate women who were forced to become sex workers to feed themselves. Didn’t that apply to himself, after all?

  Thinking of Aunt Dorothy’s tolerance, he wondered if Joel might be right – that it might extend to him. Of course, she would refuse his help in this way, but he also knew she would decline his help in “any” way. But she might come around. The least he could do was to discuss it with Tim in the cold light of day.

  Ross took out his cell, called up the number Tim had given him, and then lost his nerve without letting it ring. What on earth was he doing? He distracted himself by foraging for some food, but while he ate it reconsidered. What were the alternatives? Right off hand, there were no good ones he could think of. Damning himself for a coward, he grabbed his phone and entered the call in a rush, desperately hoping nobody would answer. After a few rings, his hopes were dashed by Tim’s cheery greeting.

  “Hi Tim, it’s Ross. Can we talk?” Ross blurted out.

  “Of course! Delighted! But not over the phone. Shall we meet somewhere?”

  “Sure. Where?”

  “Are you still at Joel’s?”

  “Yes.”

  “OK, see you in about half an hour,” Tim said decisively, giving Ross no time for second thoughts, and ended the call.

  For Ross, it was a very long half hour. He paced about the house restlessly, decided five times to cancel the arrangement, but changed his mind six times. When he heard T
im’s footsteps on the porch, he went and opened the door before Tim could ring the bell. It wouldn’t hurt to talk.

  Ross hardly knew what to say or what questions to ask, but Tim’s easy, welcoming and relaxed manner soon overcame his nervousness and they talked about the details of a sex worker’s life. Tim made it seem generally easy, but didn’t minimize the drawbacks of making intimate contact with a series of strangers.

  “There’s no getting around it,” he said, “there are some vicious characters who exploit, or even harm sex workers. It’s better to find a single client – but it’s not easy. I could ask around if you want me to.”

  “Please,” said Ross, “I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

  Then, as if it was a sudden afterthought, Tim asked, “Would you consider a male?”

  Ross just stared at him. “A male?”

  “I actually have a friend who I think would love to form a relationship with you on a commercial basis. He’s an older man, lonely, and really hates the idea of taking up with strangers. He’d be very generous, I’m sure, and absolutely safe.”

  “You mean a sexual relationship?”

  “Of course!”

  “No way!” Ross shook his head violently. “I’m not gay. I couldn’t even get it up with a man. Never! I’m surprised you’d even suggest it.”

  “OK. Don’t fly off the handle. It was just a thought. But think it over. Talk to Joel about it. But meanwhile I’ll look for an older woman who might be available.”

  “No, it’s out of the question. Totally. I don’t need to talk to anybody. Look for a woman.” Ross was upset and keen to get rid of Tim, and did so almost rudely.

  Tim wasn’t fazed in the least. He’d expected that reaction, but there was always a chance for second thoughts.

  Chapter 5

  When Ross saw his aunt that evening, he found her in a state of despair. Lou Gehrig’s disease was unpredictable and sometimes progressed slowly, or even not at all for long periods. The doctor had emphasized that, so when she had left him, she had felt fairly confident that she would have time before things got really dire.

  But she was employed as a personal assistant to the C.E.O. of the local cement factory, a job of considerable responsibility, requiring a good memory and a facilitation for dealing with dictation. She hadn’t felt up to telling her employer, though as a trusted employee she felt that she would receive very sympathetic treatment, but at work, she was particularly aware that her skills, particularly at typing, had degenerated, and a serious memory lapse frightened her considerably. Maybe she hadn’t much time at all.

  She shared all this with Ross, who firmly announced that, despite her violent opposition, he was quitting university and already had a possible job. He didn’t, however, have the courage to tell her what the job was.

  Aunt Dorothy was unhappy about his decision, but was frightened enough to give in.

  From his aunt’s, he headed straight to Joel’s, the only person in the would he felt he could be honest with. At first, he related what Tim had told him about working as a sex worker, but left out any reference to a possible gay connection. It was not, in his opinion, a factor in his decision. Joel was sympathetic and supportive, as Ross knew he would be, and basically thought that under the circumstances, it was the best that Ross could do.

  But when that topic had been pretty well exhausted, Ross, his tongue loosened by several stiff whiskeys, blurted out. “On the other hand, what I really didn’t like was that Tim suggested I seek male clients. He said he had one in mind. What does he think I am – some kind of queer?”

  Joel knew and loved Ross better than to be offended by the crudity of the comment, knowing it to be a product of the stress of the moment. “Like me, you mean?” he asked quietly. Ross was immediately remorseful. “I’m sorry, Joel, that came out of some dark recess of my mind. But why did he think I might be open to the idea?”

  “Maybe, because we’re such good friends. He might have assumed an intimate relationship.” Joel knew that wasn’t true, but it seemed like a good thing to suggest. “And, of course, since he’s gay, it wasn’t a strange idea to him.”

  “Tim’s gay? I never would have known.”

  “Would you have known about me if I hadn’t told you?”

  “No, no, never.”

  “Well, why does it surprise you with Tim?”

  “Shit, I don’t know, Joel. I guess there are false assumptions still lodged in my brain, despite everything. Even knowing you, I guess subconsciously that gays show certain characteristics.””

  “Don’t worry. It’s you and practically everybody else in the world. So you wouldn’t consider his suggestion for a moment?”

  “No!”

  “Why?”

  “It’s just not on.”

  “Why?”

  “I couldn’t do it even if I wanted to.”

  “How do you know if you’ve never tried? Look, I’m not pushing you, but it seems like a good idea – because there’s someone he knows who’s safe and kind and reliable or he wouldn’t have mentioned it. “

  “Ok, I get that.”

  “It makes the whole thing less risky.”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Let’s unwrap it a bit. Do you find it repulsive when I hug you?”

  “Not at all! God no!”

  “Well, then, what would be the difference if it were somebody else – say Tim?

  “I don’t know. Never thought about it. With you it’s just natural affection.”

  “And could be with somebody else, maybe?”

  “I guess so.”

  “In high school, we did some experimental masturbation with the guys. Was that repulsive?”

  “No, but that was just adolescent exploration.”

  “So what’s the difference?

  “Not much, I guess.”

  “If I kissed you, would you be repelled?”

  “I … I don’t know. No! I love you too much to be repelled.”

  “Wouldn’t you say that lips are lips no matter what the gender of their owner is?”

  “I suppose so, but you’re way outside my comfort zone.”

  “Are you willing to try it and see what it’s like?”

  Ross didn’t answer, but after a moment said, “You really think I should go Tim’s route, don’t you!”

  “Yes, I do.”

  ‘Well, I trust you more than anybody else in the world except Aunt Dorothy, so if you want it, I’ll give it a try.”

  Joel put his arm around Ross’s shoulder. “And we’re solid no matter what?”

  “We’re solid no matter what.”

  Joel leaned over and pressed his lips softly against Ross’s. Ross’s lips were stiff as boards for about one second, and then relaxed. He didn’t pull back, but put his arm around Joel and hugged him. “Hey, pal, I kind of liked that. It was different, but I liked it. At least I’m OK with it.”

  “Not too unnatural?”

  “Actually, it seemed natural – like a special hug.”

  “Well, like kissing, quite a lot of the things we do are the same as what straight couples do.”

  “I never thought of that.”

  “Well that’s not surprising. Think on it buddy, and if you want to carry on further in the direction we’ve gone, let me know.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  The evening naturally ended there. Ross went home full of questions, but not of stress. There was a lot to process, but he was sure he could do that.

  Chapter 6

  It wasn’t as easy, he found, as he’d thought. A friendly kiss with a guy he loved was one thing. But a passionate kiss with a stranger was something else entirely. He made the mistake of going down to the sex shop and picking up a gay porn magazine. What he saw there didn’t excite him. He decided that he’d have to find another way, but it didn’t take hours of searching to convince him that there wasn’t any other way – At least no other way as unthreatening as the opportunity that he had.

>   That evening he went back to Joel’s and went over it with him again. After hearing him out, Joel said, “Ross, porn repels even me. It’s clinical and artificial and devoid of any humanity. It’s devoid of all the humanity that makes the nitty gritty of sex feasible. I’ll bet even straight porn would put you off. Let’s face it, all sex, looked at objectively, is either absurd or revolting. “

  “You think that if I did those things with you it would be OK?”

  “We can try it and see. Just as an experiment. You trust me, so the very moment you ask me to stop, I will stop.”

  “I suppose.”

  “We’ll even set the scene a bit. The right music. A bit of weed. That’ll help.”

  Half an hour later, Joel drew Ross up from the sofa, put his arms around him and kissed him on his eyelids, nibbled his earlobe, grasped his buttocks and drew him against arousal. At first, Ross was tense, but then he relaxed. He felt a stirring in his groin. “This is nice.”

  When Joel kissed him on the lips and probed with his tongue, Ross tensed and then opened his mouth and let Joel very gently massage his tongue. A kind of warmth flooded through him as Joel began to unbutton his shirt. As Joel began sucking his nipples, Ross felt his affection for his friend begin to possess him.

  When Joel said, “OK, buddy?” Ross just said “yes.”

  Murmuring, “Let’s get more comfortable,” Joel led Ross to his bedroom and gestured for him to lie down. Beginning again with a kiss, he stroked his hands down Ross’s chest until he reached Ross’s jeans. Seeing that Ross was ready, he unbuttoned them, reached inside and cupped him in his hands.

  Releasing Ross’s erect package from its tight confinement, the shaft looked engorged to the point of begging for release. He began to stroke the tip with his fingers, and it didn’t take long for Ross’s breath to quicken. He put his mouth over the large tip and firmly massaged with his tongue until Ross was gasping in bliss. Joel finally started bobbing down onto his hardened shaft in ever deeper and faster strokes until Ross moaned “Oh God, I’m going to fucking cum”. Ross pulled down hard on Joel’s head as he buried his dick deep into his throat. His throbbing cock finally exploded as he squirted an unending load of seed into his mouth.