His attention drifted back to David’s pounding and Biyu’s moaning.
It was bash his head into the mirrored-cabinet or take his thumbs and jam them into the base of his skull to relieve the pressure. He went with option two. “She’s been back on her meds long enough now not to be so dependent on David’s sexual ministrations to find her g-spot, I mean, her Zen-like place of calm. There’s something else going on here and I intend to get to the bottom of it.”
He sighed. He had no idea how he was going to come out of this without feeling bested by that brat.
“If you’re planning to use this approach to get mummy back in your arms, Klepsky, you better figure out how to up your game.” He yanked the medicine cabinet open, pawing through the bottles and jars behind the mirror. “Viagra. Cialis. Testosterone.” He kept looking at labels and yanking bottles. “Christ, it’s like you saw this day coming.”
He gulped a couple pills from each bottle, swallowed them dry, chewing them into paste before gulping hard. He unscrewed the cap on the testosterone cream, smoothed a bunch of it on his chest and back. Resealed the jar and returned it to the shelf. Then he stared down forlorn at his forty-three year old dick. “There’s not enough dick-hardening solutions in all the world. You’d do better waiting a few more years until it’s entirely petrified, and having this contest then.”
Dick-hardening solutions! His very words reminded him of something. He ripped open the mirror cabinet again—the last thing he needed to be reminded of was that he looked every bit his age of forty-three in that mirror anyway. There. He grabbed the bottle. Checked the label. Prostaglandin-E. “Was it five cc’s, or ten?” He ripped open the packet on one of those diabetic syringes he used to inject himself with the solution the last time. Pulled up twenty cc’s of solution, just in case. Jabbed the needle into his dick. Depressed the plunger, yanked it back out. “Holy shit! I forgot how fast this thing works. Let’s see how his twenty-one-year-old dick lasts up to superdick this time.” He wiped the injection mark with an alcohol swab, applied a fresh rubber, and headed back into the ring.
Ed immediately gestured to his hard dick as Klepsky entered the bedroom. “In case you were wondering how you were going to keep up with junior, need I remind you, we have one dick to spare.”
“No worries,” Klepsky said.
Ed glanced down at his crotch. “Oh my! And so there aren’t.” He giggled and jumped back onto the bed. “How do you want me?”
“Let’s see what the sound of you gagging on my dick does to the competition?”
Ed chuckled. “Excellent idea.”
***
“Is that Ed gagging on Klepsky’s dick?” David said.
“Don’t let him try and intimidate you, baby,” Biyu said supportively.
“But Ed has such a big mouth. It’d take a horse dick to gag him.” David glanced down at his crotch and saw his dick shriveling up at the thought. He just cupped his hands over himself.
Biyu slid up in bed and kissed him on the lips, stroking his face with her hands tenderly. “It’s how psy-ops wars are played. They tried this shit on me for years in China. Don’t let him get inside your head. Get inside his.”
“How? Talk fast, woman, before my dick gets any smaller.”
She smiled. “Lean back against the bed board.”
A few second later, David was emitting sounds he had never emitted before. He was out of control with the “oh my God’s!” and the “Ahs! And Ohs!” He’d never experienced oral sex like this.
***
“What?” Klepsky stared at the wall suspiciously, pushing up from the bed in a cobra position, even as he continued to hammer-fuck Ed. “What is that? He hasn’t made those kinds of sounds before.”
“If. You’d. Stop. Pounding.” Ed gritted out between his yelps.
“Oh, yeah.” Klepsky eased up on the butt-slamming.
“She’s giving him oral,” Ed explained.
Klepsky listened more closely to confirm. “You’re right.”
Then: “I’ll never date younger women again!” David screamed from the other room.
“That bitch,” Klepsky said. “She’s supposed to be saving that for me.”
Ed snaked out from under him, and slid his back against the backboard. He pointed to his dick. “Let’s see how you do.”
Klepsky listened to David and Biyu until he couldn’t take it anymore. “Fine. Seems like a waste of a good hard on,” he said, admiring his own dick, “but…”
“Oh, don’t worry. That thing isn’t going anywhere. Not from the looks of it.”
Soon Ed was making sounds from Klepsky orally gratifying him that matched, if not exceeded, David’s screeching on the other side of the wall, and the contest was back on.
***
Ed and David passed each other in the upstairs hall and high-fived one another on the breeze by. “Still working like a magic charm?” David said.
“A magic charm that has been used to release the hounds of hell,” he said giggling as he ran down the stairs towards the kitchen.
He came back moments later with a plate full of munchies as David was coming out of the hallway bathroom. “Great idea!” David said, and ran in the direction of the stairs to get a plate of his own.
“Wait!” Ed shout-whispered. “On second thought, take mine. You’ll respond better to the sugar rush at your age than he will. Think I’ll go back for some protein shakes instead.”
David grabbed the plate from him, ducked back into his room.
Ed whistled his way down to the kitchen, whistled his way through procuring the blender drinks, and whistled his way back up the stairs again minutes later. It was hard not to notice that more moaning and carrying on was coming from David’s room again. He smiled, quite pleased with himself. “Not sure Klepsky needs the provocation any more, not with all the prostaglandin-E I left in that medicine cabinet and every other dick-upper on the planet, but I’ll take it all the same.”
He ducked back into his room with the tray in one hand, and glanced at Klepsky’s hard-on. “Are we in love with modern chemistry yet?” he said leadingly.
“We most certainly are.” Klepsky grabbed the blender drink from him and guzzled right out of the blender.
Ed fell to his knees to slurp the run-off dribbling from the blender down Klepsky’s chest on to his dick.
***
Klepsky was staring into the bathroom mirror again, he didn’t know how many hours later. His head craned to the curtains at the sound of birds chirping outside. He went over to the curtains and parted them. “Holy shit! That’s daylight. As opposed to a car’s headlights passing by.” He shook his head and chastised himself. “If this is what it takes to win mommy back into your arms, Klepsky, maybe it’s time you reconsidered your end goals.” He lumbered back to the mirror. “Maybe think of this as more of a nighttime soap opera where everybody sleeps with everybody sooner or later, and just roll with the changing seasons. Yeah, definitely the way to go. She’ll get bored with him eventually, and we’ll let the call of the wild pull her towards me, propped up by…” He reached for the prostaglandin-E. “Better start ordering this stuff by the truckload.”
“Maybe…” Ed said. Klepsky was startled to find him standing or rather leaning against the door jamb to the bathroom. His legs crossed, arms folded, stark naked. “Maybe if you saw Biyu as more of a daughter than a wife, you could be the single dad who sexually abuses all his surrogate kids.” Ed twitched his eyebrows playfully.
“To help me get inside the minds of the sexual predators we hunt.” Klepsky found himself nodding. “Yeah, that could work.” Then he shook his head, thinking better of it. “Nah, I want a conventional family, I tell ya, even if to get to Shangri-La means hiking through the Himalayas in the dead of winter. The mountains standing in for…”
“Our stacks of collective neuroses. I get it,” Ed said testily. “I’m a genius, remember?”
“Don’t sound so defensive just because I don’t want to rape all of you e
qually. A moment ago you wouldn’t have stood for me raping anyone but you.”
“Like you, I’ve been forced to think more realistically in lieu of last night’s events. I can’t have you killing yourself pretending you’re twenty-one just to squeeze more sex out of you. Like you, I’m in this for the long-term. Maybe we should…”
Klepsky held out his arm in a gesture conveying, “Please stop.” Then he thought more about what he wanted, as he started shaving his face before the mirror with the hot foam and the straight edge. “Maybe we should put our names in a punch bowl. And whoever we draw out is our partner for the night.”
Ed giggled. “Sounds weird, but kind of fun too.”
“I think it’ll teach us non-attachment. Adrian is always going on about it like it’s some big thing. Maybe he’s right. Maybe it’ll teach us to be less attached to outcomes. After we’ve played the game long enough, who knows? Maybe we’ll be able to make more adult decisions, no longer yanked about by the predilections imprinted on us by our past. In my case, dominating and humiliating little twerps like you in any way imaginable just brings back fun times as a kid. Maybe the quickest way to a nuclear family that’s semi-normal, considering how far we are from that reality, is to break all the rules at once, instead of one at a time.”
Ed giggled. “That actually sounds pretty good.”
Klepsky stared at him suspiciously. “How come you’re so accommodating all of a sudden? You hate sharing me with anybody?” Klepsky continued to take long, slow strokes with his straight edge up along his neck. Anyone from Ed’s generation would likely slice their own throats trying to talk and shave at the same time with one of these.
“I enjoyed parenting you last night.”
Klepsky gave him a strange look.
“What, you think I didn’t just manipulate the shit out of you like some tempestuous child? Think again, bub. Maybe we should add that to the punchbowl, you know? Not just our names but different roles we could each play for one another. You could get “brother” instead of playing ‘dad’ all the time. Biyu could get ‘sister.’ David could get ‘Biyu.’”
Klepsky laughed. “I’d love to see him get into character as her and throw a hissy fit from the top of a desk at the FBI-FD.”
Ed laughed. “I know. Wouldn’t that just be hilarious?”
Klepsky dropped the razor. Toweled off the last of the foam. Looked over at Ed. “We’re going to get this done, aren’t we? We’re going to be a regular family, no matter what it takes.”
“Yes, we are.”
It was the way Ed said it. For the first time, Klepsky felt convinced in his heart as if they all truly wanted the same thing. “Whatever challenges the next case brings, we’ll have the punch bowl routine to get us through it. The more it frees us from our pasts, the more we will have to give the future. And that’s a good thing, because these cases don’t get any easier as time moves along. At least that’s been my experience.”
“As self-help programs go,” Ed said, “I concede it’s genius.”
“Anything less and it would feel too much like we were putting ourselves ahead of the rest of the world.”
“There’ll be time enough for that.” Ed did one of his signature eyebrow twitches. “I’m not going anywhere.”
It was the way Ed said it. Klepsky felt a knot of tension come undone at the very center of his soul.
He never knew until that moment just how much he wanted this family thing to work. He’d always been one man against the world. He rather liked it that way. He could tell Adrian still did. But Adrian could adapt to change. Klepsky couldn’t. Not by himself. He needed a family about him to act as a catalyst, to wear away his resistance to being himself. He’d saved enough people in his life. It was his turn to be saved.
He came over and hugged Ed. They both hugged each other like neither of them would ever let go. It was just one more thing he needed that morning.
His cell phone was ringing. That particular dial tone meant just one thing.
A fresh case. An all-hands-on-deck case as the other phones belonging to David, Biyu, and Ed started ringing throughout the house.
Ed and Klepsky relaxed their embrace of one another. “Explain to the others I’ll be in just a little bit after everyone else.”
Ed glanced at his dick. “Yes, you have that hard-on to get rid of first. Wouldn’t want them thinking it’s over a dead body, or a mass of dead bodies.” Ed shoved his fist in his mouth to stifle his giggles. “God, I’m sorry. It could take days for that thing to go away. You might want to check in at the hospital first.”
Klepsky glanced at his dick and sighed. “Yeah, maybe I’ll do that. But first I have those punch bowl entries to make up.”
Ed smiled at him. “Yes, you do.”
FORTY-THREE
2 Weeks Later
Mercifully, the shrink had a big couch, made of plush black pleated full-grain leather. Klepsky, Ed, David, and Biyu pretty much filled it up, sitting side by side, in just that order. They were facing her at her desk with her back to a library of books running floor to ceiling. She had the view out the generous window behind their backs. Maybe she needed it as a go-to place to decompress from whatever her patients had to tell her, a brief escape, like a kind of panic room for her mind.
“So, do we have a spokesperson for the group?” she said with a soft-chuckle, absently and perhaps nervously, parting her soft hair. At least it looked soft. Her face, by contrast, looked hard. She was a still-beautiful woman but the face showed pain. This woman had experienced a lot of it in her day. Klepsky thought some of the facial muscles looked doctored, as if after a car accident. Either the doctor was really good and the damage inflicted had been far worse, or he was not the best of plastic surgeons. She was in her fifties, and Klepsky doubted all those blond hairs were natural. But her figure was still smoking hot. She aged the way actresses age, with grace and added character. After a beat or two, she prompted, “Someone who’d like to go first?”
“Ah,” Klepsky said, clearing his throat. “It’s like this. We met at work. Other than that, we really had no real connection to one another beforehand. I’m forty-three, Biyu there,” he said pointing with the fedora he’d been rolling in his hands, “is thirty-five. Ed beside me is twenty-eight, and David there is twenty-one. I got it in my head to bring us together as a surrogate family. I was hoping Biyu and I would be a couple. We talked about dating when we first met and both agreed it would be something we wanted to try. Ed and David, I figured, would fall naturally into the roles of our two kids. Sure, they’re old enough to be living on their own, and in fact have been living on their own for quite some time. And they’re adults in their own rights. But like the rest of us, they figured they’d benefit from a family they never had too. And, I mean, these days kids stay home well into their twenties, some into their thirties, and some never leave, right? I mean, in this economy you can hardly blame them. Not that there’s a financial incentive in their case; they probably both make more money than I do. What, with all their inventions and what not.”
He took a breath. “Still, I figured the more good years we had together, the better able we’d all be to entertain families of our own one day. Sort of a dry run. For Biyu and I, this may be the only family we ever have, though we’re certainly not too old to give birth to some kids.” He leaned over briefly to shoot her a teasing glance before sitting back straight. “And speaking for all of us, we’d like to unlearn whatever dysfunctional behaviors we’ve inherited from our pasts that might inflict psychological scars on children of too tender an age to weather them.”
She nodded in the ensuing silence, but didn’t speak right away. Waiting to see if anyone volunteered anything else. Shrinks were good that way. They seemed to know instinctively that silence was their friend. “Well, it makes sense,” she said finally. “So, what dysfunctional patterns have you noticed so far?”
A beat or two while Klepsky built up his nerve again, like letting energy store in a battery. “
Well, our youngest son, I mean surrogate son, David,” Klepsky said, “is sleeping with mommy. And me, I’m power-fucking Ed, here,” he put his hand on Ed’s leg. “It started with me competing with David who was making mommy moan to high heaven through the wall of our adjoining rooms. I wanted to let it be known to her that I could fuck every bit as long and as hard.” He interrupted himself once again to lean towards her and throw her another telling glance. She wasn’t having any of it, kept staring straight ahead. So he sat back up straight. Sighed. “But it’s taken a darker turn of late. Now, I’m more like a schoolyard bully, forcing myself on Ed in public places every chance I get, just to humiliate and degrade him. Twisted his arm behind his back until it must have felt like I was going to wrench it out of its socket and drilled him over a garbage can in an alley just this morning, saying, ‘take that, you little shit!’”
Ed cut in with a gesture, “I never climaxed harder in my life, except for when he was strangling me the night before.”
“Thanks for reminding me,” Klepsky said. “It was while I was drilling him, of course, one of those double your pleasure double your fun deals.”
“But you’re not gay, or bisexual, are you?” Victoria asked, staring straight at Klepsky.
Klepsky shook his head. “Ed is, though. I don’t think there’s any denying that. I just enjoy punishing the boy. He picks the punishments, which I consider only fair. I’m more of a rageaholic, to tell you the truth, than a sexaholic. My kids seem to fit more squarely into the sexaholic categories. Though it’s probably too early to start throwing around labels.”
Unkillable (The Futurist Book 1) Page 37