Months ago, during the only other glory hole experience in my history, I vaguely recalled this same state of all-encompassing arousal and yearning. I had found a hole in a wall between an apartment and an automotive repair shop. Though I was the one who had been doing the servicing of the mechanics, I recalled the similar sensation that they were sharing themselves with me, strengthening me, like I was sucking out their essence to transform myself.
Tonight's encounters ended as they had begun, with Luke. I could no longer hear music blaring behind the door. How many hours had it been? The party was probably over. Luke submitted himself for a second helping and moaned my name this time, sprinkling in compliments and demands that I didn't listen to. When he finished, Luke opened the back door of the box and motioned for me to crawl out. I pushed the cans and cups to one side, the used towels to the other, and collected a wad of bills so thick I could barely fold it and stuff it my pocket.
Luke offered his hand and dragged me out. My knees and thighs were so sore I didn't want to stand up. I sat propped against the bed and stretched out my legs. My feet tingled as I regained circulation. Luke brought me a glass of ice water and a damp body towel.
"Take your shirt off," he said. "You're drenched. I'll give you one of my shirts to wear home."
I toweled off my chest and forehead and let the ice cubes linger on my tongue. Luke returned with a folded t-shirt and set it on my lap.
"Never in my wildest dreams..." he started to say. "How did you do it?"
I flashed him an exhausted grin.
"What can I do for you?" Luke asked.
"Is the party over?"
"It's been over a while now. Everyone's back in their rooms or passed out."
"Where's Todd?"
"Conked out on the floor by the bar. I'm just going to give him a pillow and a blanket and let him sleep there."
"Was Todd one of the guys who came in here tonight?" Though I had looked at every man through the eyeholes, their faces had begun to blend together.
"I'll never tell, you know, but let's say it this way. I don't think there was a single dude who got left out."
I widened my eyes. "All ten of your friends?"
"More than that."
"How could it be more?"
"I saw the bartender and deejay creep in here, too. I really don't know how you did it, Kieran. Do you need to throw up or something?"
"No. In fact, is there any food left?"
Luke left the bedroom again and returned with crackers, cakes, and pastries, all piled high into a pyramid on a tray. He handed me a napkin and another glass of ice water. "You deserve to get paid. How much do you want?"
"We never talked about money," I answered. "I'm not here for money."
Luke put three one hundred dollar bills in my hand and folded my fingers over the money. "I insist you take it," he said. "Is that enough?"
I grasped the huge bulge in my pocket. "Why were your friends showering me with dollar bills?"
"I asked them to." Luke ripped the sign off of the box and handed it to me.
I read it aloud. "Pretty mouth," it said in big letters. Underneath, in underlined smaller font, it said, "Tip it if satisfied."
"It?" I repeated and chuckled.
"Give me a break, I was drunk," Luke replied with a smile. "I'm glad my sign worked and you got some extra dough. Good deal."
I finished the entire tray of food, stood up, and put on Luke's t-shirt. He walked me out of the suite, which was a disaster of alcohol bottles and stains on the carpet. I stepped over Todd's sleeping body to reach the front door and Luke rode with me in silence down the elevator and into the lobby. Luke called a shared ride for me with an app on his phone and wrapped his arm around my back.
"Thank you, Kieran."
"I think I should be the one thanking you," I said.
"You can't be serious."
"Well, I am."
"All of this insanity, just from running into you on a helicopter tour? Simply amazing."
"Take care."
Luke waved at me as I rode away in the backseat of a stranger's car. Luke and I had both been at a loss for words during those final minutes. There seemed to be more to say, but for the life of me I couldn't think of what it should have been. The extent of his generosity and kindness had been unexpected. We were worlds apart and unable to fully understand one another, but for that moment in time our paths had intersected and I felt somewhat close to him.
Chapter 7
Brandon's empty house, a two bedroom and two bathroom Mediterranean-style two story in Henderson, just steps away from a well-maintained city park, was serene. I undressed in his guest bedroom and switched off the airplane mode setting on my phone. I had used the setting during the time I was in the hotel suite to block any incoming calls or text messages while I was inside the box. Two notifications chimed in. I had a text message from Andrew to let me know he had made it home without any problems and a nice voicemail message from Cody, the engineering geologist in Texas, saying he was thinking about me and looking forward to seeing me in about a week.
I pulled the wad of cash out of my jeans pocket, thumbed through the bills, and gasped. I had assumed the men were dumping in only one dollar bills. But these were mostly fives, tens, and twenties, and someone had even tipped me a hundred bucks. I separated the bills by denomination and tallied them up. Five hundred and ten dollars!
I drew a piping hot bath. Brandon had stocked the guest bathroom with a selection of Lush bath bombs and I chose one called "dragon's egg." I plopped it in the tub and it bobbed on the surface, gradually filling the room with the aroma of lemon oil and pear.
I soaked for at least an hour. I thought of Lady MacBeth, washing her sins away. Just like that, soap and water can issue a new beginning. But I didn't want to wash my sins away. I didn't want to feel like the night was over. I wanted to remember everything, but my memory was already beginning to fail me. Had it all really happened? Ten guys? Perhaps more?
The other thing I asked myself was whether I had become a complete tramp. I reminded myself that I needed the money and it came to me without any bargaining or soliciting. Were these tips different than the tips Brandon earned exhibiting himself on adult web cam sites? I knew there must have been a difference, but I was too relaxed to dwell on it any further.
The bottom line, I realized, was not to second guess myself. I had eagerly wanted the experience. It was more than I had ever expected. And it made me feel good. Imagine my blazing lust for straight men who had no attraction to me. But on this very night I had controlled their pleasure and they had gifted themselves to me, sharing their essence, and even sharing their gratitude and money.
While my body was still moist and warm, I slipped on a loose-fitting pair of boxer shorts ideal for sleeping in, crawled into bed, and dozed off with a smile on my lips.
Chapter 8
I woke the following morning to the rustling sounds of Brandon returning home. I stayed in bed, opened my eyes, and watched the frolicking eucalyptus leaves flicker and sway in the breezes moving through his backyard. Several minutes later, he knocked and then opened the bedroom door.
"Good morning, sport," he said. Brandon wore his work attire and his aviator sunglasses rested on his head. His muscular frame filled the doorway and his blue eyes sparkled.
"How are you?" I asked, yawning and stretching my arms.
"Fine, but dashing off to work. I wish I had time to fix breakfast, but help yourself to anything in the cabinets. If you want flapjacks or waffles, there is a pancake house within walking distance, about a mile away."
"That sounds good."
"Tonight's the last night of your trip. Can I take you to dinner? It'll just be the two of us."
"Sure."
"Did you do anything fun last night after we left?"
"It was epic."
"I'm not surprised."
"I shouldn't say another word. You wouldn't understand."
"Maybe not," Brandon conceded.
"So I won't press you for the gory details."
I finally crept out of bed after I heard Brandon drive away. I noticed my skin was incredibly soft and I wondered how much of that was due to the bath bomb. I stared at myself in the mirror and saw the change. This was a new version of myself looking back at me. The change wasn't subtle. I couldn't pinpoint what was different, but the overall effect of my appearance was alien to me. I liked it.
I had no plans scheduled for the day. The one goal locked in stone was to find Brandon a thank you gift for his hospitality. I hoped that a good idea would come to me. But what do you get for a perfect guy who seems to already have everything he desires? I sure wondered what it felt like to be an immoral like Brandon.
I shaved, coated my skin with aftershave and argan oil, found my favorite ball cap in my luggage, threw on jeans and a sport shirt, and set out on foot for the pancake house. I tried their eggless veggie omelet and it was delicious, but what I really couldn't get enough of were the strawberry waffles smothered in maple syrup. I also downed a large glass of orange juice and considered myself ready for anything the day might bring my way.
Using my phone app, I arranged for a shared ride to Sloan Canyon for a desert hike. Before Andrew had returned home, this was something he and I had talked about doing together to see the ancient petroglyphs in the mountain canyons south of Henderson. The weather was especially agreeable, reaching the mid sixties fahrenheit with few clouds, and I was in the mood to be outside. I also wanted to snap pictures I could later share with Andrew.
The hike began at a small, nondescript parking lot. There were a few cars present and a government agency trailer with a wheelchair-accessible ramp. I went inside to get a map and a park employee showed me the trail to follow to find the petroglyphs. She said the full loop would take at least three hours and urged me to take plenty of water. I knew she was right, but my stomach was full from a hearty breakfast and I thought I could easily traverse the miles without having to lug around bottled water. None was sold in the trailer and I didn't want to hitch another ride just to go to a convenience store and back, delaying my hike any further.
It began as a long stretch through a desert valley, which was mostly barren, yet still interesting with abundant cacti and shrubs. The park designers had done an a clever job of creating a narrow gravel trail for hiking that did not spoil the land. Eventually I reached the mouth of the canyon and the trail slithered through foothills, leading me deeper into the mountains. I noticed stunning rock cliffs, hawks, and an abundance of lizards. However, few people were on the trail. After an hour into the adventure I had only walked past three individuals, all of who appeared to me to be experienced hikers and explorers. I wondered if Nevada residents and visitors were unaware of the petroglyphs or just didn't care that they could reach undisturbed desert where ancient people used to live.
As the foothills reached higher, the trail required moderate climbing over arroyos. Several appeared to form what would have been steep waterfalls, approximately seven to eight feet in height, but the gullies were completely dry. I enjoyed the rock climbing and wished Andrew was with me to see it for himself. I slowed my pace to take numerous photos, carefully angling my phone's camera to catch the best play of light and shadows on the rocks and cliffs. The arid slopes resembled what I would have expected on Mars or another planet. Fortunately, there was absolutely no sign of litter, trash, or vandalism.
After climbing the largest of the rock walls, I rounded a bend in the trail and came upon a crescent-shaped canyon tucked far into the mountains. I knew at once this was the key spot on the hike. The incline to my right stretched two hundred feet high, with large boulders dark from minerals. Petroglyphs were peppered across the hillside. Some rocks had multiple carved designs. I estimated many hundreds of them, perhaps thousands. Everywhere I looked more came into focus. For this unfathomable level of preservation many factors had to unite to prevent erosion from water, wind, and avalanches. The angle of the land was just precipitous enough to allow ancient people to climb and carve, while prohibiting modern people from ransacking the area to take souvenirs. Furthermore, the spot must have been important for the ancient societies for reasons of their own, which may have related to the canyon's location, just before the largest waterfall.
I used my phone to take still pictures and video clips of the hillside. I had already spent nearly an hour there when I decided to sit on a boulder to the left of the trail. I wasn't ready to leave. I let my mind run free, imagining ancient people scattered across the rocks and spending time carving the shapes and symbols that had so much meaning to them. Some of the petroglyphs were obviously references to tortoises, birds, rams, lizards, trees, and the sun. Many of the carvings appeared to be abstract, perhaps even otherworldly, more like alien beings than stick figures. I repeatedly noticed the figure "8" or letter "H" and zigzagging lines.
I had the entire zone to myself until I noticed that two tall and burly men in sunglasses and windbreakers had arrived. Like me, they were in awe of what they witnessed, pointing out to each other in a foreign language—which I later learned was German—what they wanted each other to be sure to observe. I watched the men and guessed that they were a few years older than me, either in their mid or late twenties. They both had the body types I associated with rugby players. They were dressed well and I assumed they had wealth, as young international tourists who explored Las Vegas off the beaten path.
The men acknowledged me with friendly nods. I tipped my head and remained seated. In those moments I became aware of two things. First, I was desperately thirsty. I chided myself for not making the extra effort to get water for this hike. There I was, a park ranger in training, making the dumbest of dumb mistakes in the desert. Second, I noticed that these tall men wore matching clothing. The same brand of designer sunglasses. The same style of windbreaker, hiking boots, and backpacks. The same model of visor caps, though in different colors. The shapes of their faces and bodies indicated they weren't brothers. Of course, they had to be partners. Neither wore rings, but I had no idea if married partners in other countries wore wedding rings or not. They looked good together. Watching them brought me competing feelings of hope and jealousy.
At their request, I took their picture with their SLR camera so they could get a far more encompassing shot than a selfie from a phone camera could ever provide. I photographed them at a couple of angles to include as many petroglyphs as I could. They had the half smiles that you sometimes see men wearing when they are photographed side by side in locker rooms. These men were comfortable with themselves and closely bonded together. Their English was partially precise and partially broken. We could communicate well enough to exchange names—they called themselves Felix and Max—and basic pleasantries. Noticing that I had neglected to bring a backpack, they offered me a bottled water. I couldn't stop chugging it until the bottle was empty, which brought about laughter from all three of us. One of them handed me a second bottle and I sipped it with more restraint.
Looking back, I cannot pinpoint how the connection with them escalated from simple kindness among strangers to lowering our pants to our ankles above the dry waterfall at the bend in the trail. Maybe it was when they removed their sunglasses and revealed mischievous eyes. Or when Felix sat beside me and I nudged closer. Perhaps it was when Max put one foot up on the rock at my side, "man-spreading" his legs and exhibiting dominance. They had condoms and they took turns banging me underneath them on all fours, humping like cavemen or wild animals, as the other served as the lookout to ensure we weren't caught by another hiker.
Felix and Max spoke in English to tell me how tight I was and they each took multiple rounds, holding their orgasms off as long as they could. But mostly they spoke to each other in German while jackhammering me. I didn't feel degraded. My perspective was that they were sharing me, that this was about their connection with each other, and talking to each other in their native tongue brought an element of intimacy and mystery to what could otherwise h
ave just been a rugged shag among strangers.
Fortunately, their own pleasure was not their only concern. After both had finished plowing into me, they leaned me upright against a rock wall. Felix passionately kissed me while Max stroked me to climax. For a few seconds the awkwardness of it all overwhelmed me. I dressed quickly and made the move to bolt away so they could be alone. But Felix asked me to wait. The three of us hiked together back to the parking lot. We said our genial goodbyes before we parted and took separate shared ride services.
On the way back to Brandon's house I had the driver drop me off at a deli, where I had a late lunch eating a submarine sandwich under the shade of a pergola on a stone terrace.
A text message chimed my phone and I was startled to see that it was from Luke. "How are you holding up, buddy?"
I typed back without delay. "Still alive and kicking."
"Glad to hear it. I was wondering. Are you still going to be in Vegas tonight?"
Chapter 9
Brandon and I, both sharply dressed in sleek black shirts, made our way through the lobby of the Delano Las Vegas. Brandon turned so many heads and earned so many second looks I wondered if people thought he was a movie star or European prince or professional MMA fighter. Brandon had no reaction to all the attention, indicating he was completely used to it and took it for granted. We rode the elevator to the top floor and entered a restaurant decorated with cool blue and cream colors. Tens of thousands of glass spheres hung conically in vertical strands from the ceiling and intentionally resembled champagne bubbles. We were directed to a reserved and elegant booth table against the window, which overlooked the city and mountains in the distance and the construction of a football stadium only a tenth of a mile away. Sun screens blocked the setting sun on the west-facing windows.
Brandon asked if he could order for both of us and I readily agreed. He selected the wine and began ordering plates of the restaurant's specialty dishes. Instead of getting entrees, the menu was created to encourage diners to select a wide variety of small plates. I had never been to such an exclusive and pricey restaurant and I mentioned this to Brandon. He smiled, happy to hear I was impressed by his choice. Every bite was scrumptious. I was buzzed after the second glass of wine and Brandon kept ordering more food. When the sun descended behind the mountains, the restaurant staff raised the sunscreens and dampened the lights, providing a romantic new ambiance.
Untame (Straight Taste Book 5) Page 3