“Good. Let me know your schedule over the next few weeks. He’ll be okay with this, right? And this will help you and Dan? That’s still true?” Ben rubbed his face with his baseball mitt hand. “Look, Dan’s very upset over all that’s happened at work. And he knows I never believed the accusation against him for one minute.” He stood and walked to the front of the desk. “Dan talks a lot to me… not about you, so don’t worry.”
A smile crossed Ginny’s face. “I’m sure he doesn’t.”
Ben crooked his head. “Okay, I don’t know what that means, but never mind. Anyway, he’s sure that something is happening at DV&N in Paris involving that Lords woman and Barrington. His hands are tied, and he’s frustrated. I’m sure you know this.”
“Yes, more or less. He needs to drop it. It’s not his concern anymore. Dan has an obsession…” Ginny stopped talking and looked down at her feet. “Besides, he misses Vinnie.”
The conversation continued with praise and concern for Dan. They agreed he was deeply depressed.
“So, do you think this will help both of you?” Ben asked again. “I know it will improve my routine for the show.”
“Absolutely. And Dan will be delighted. He’ll want to help you, and he’s said he’ll do anything for me.” She hesitated and glanced down. “He may not admit this will be good for him, but it will.” Her smile came with rising cheeks and sparkling eyes. Ben’s smile followed.
Two liars grinned collusion. Ben’s lie was over his real goal: more intimacy with Dan. Not full sex, but visual. Ginny’s lies were many and complex. Dan had certainly not agreed and might not do so willingly, but she’d force him. And her goal was to control her stethy by yielding to her desire. Dan’s improved mental state was merely a hypothesis—a secondary benefit.
****
His body folded like a human question mark, Dan gave tacit agreement to Ginny’s declaration.
“So, I’ll tell Ben you agree.”
Dan nodded.
Ginny was pleased with the agreement, but not with the feeble nature of it. This was just another sign that he was a pushover. His body might have shown improving strength, but he remained weak in both character and attitude.
“This will be good for us, Dan. I think this will help our relationship.”
“I suppose. I guess it can’t hurt. I mean, what’s the worst that can happen? I’ll be embarrassed. Ben will be embarrassed. And there’s no threesome. I mean, I need to be sure about that.”
Ginny assured Dan of that, but she didn’t reveal that they’d be engaging in sex while Ben posed. She did reveal one other detail, though: “I think to make him more comfortable though, we should strip down to our underwear.”
That gave Dan another worry. Had she forgotten about his adolescent swimming pool incident? The older bullies? His exposure? His fear of an erection around men?
For a few seconds he said nothing. Ginny waited. He closed his eyes, the image of the two older boys, sixteen or seventeen, passing him poolside. One explaining his workout routine, his double-bicep pose. The other boy squeezing his arms, telling the alpha male they were big and hard. The flexing boy’s teeth growing longer with his widening grin: “Sixteen inches of pure, hard muscle.”
Dan’s eyes grew moist with memory. The humiliation returned; the boy’s flexed arm rammed Dan’s face; the push away, the second boy pulling at his Speedo, his erection displayed for all to see—girls, moms, everyone.
“Have you forgotten about my incident at the pool, Ginny? Have you not given me any thought at all?”
Ginny knew about what had happened; Dan had told her. But that had been a long time ago and he had been just a teenager. It wouldn’t be like that, not now.
“I don’t know why it happened,” Dan said. “Maybe it was the boy’s hard muscle or maybe it was fear, but I became excited. Don’t you get it? My penis sprang up to its full length, and probably larger than the sixteen-year-old bully’s. He called me a queer. For months I worried that I was a homosexual.”
Ginny moved closer to him. “When did you know you weren’t gay? Or have you been suppressing it?”
“No, I’m not gay, and you know I’m not homophobic or Vinnie wouldn’t be my best friend and I wouldn’t be working out with Ben. My high school swimming coach is the one who helped me understand. Coach knew I wasn’t gay and he told me, ‘One hard-on in front of a boy doesn’t make you gay.’”
Dan crossed the room, away from Ginny. She followed. Her words came out slow and soft. “You won’t have a hard-on with Ben. But even if you do, it will be me in the room. Ben won’t care how big your erection is, believe me.”
Wine was poured, and the discussion shifted to dinner preparation. For reasons he didn’t understand, Dan felt good about their conversation. It was their first real, non-trivial conversation that wasn’t an argument.
After dinner, Dan went to his study, reinforced by alcohol. So what if I get hard in front of Ben? At this point my life has been reduced to nothing anyway, so I should just forget the shame. I’m going to let Ginny enjoy herself and move on.
Dan closed his study door to block out the sounds of the television. He believed his agreement would be good for Ginny’s stethy, and maybe it would help their relationship, too. But he didn’t see how it would help Vinnie—or the looming financial crisis at DV&N.
Chapter 30
Insecurity
The date chosen for Ben’s “show” was the Friday after Christmas. Roles had been assigned: Dan as cook, Ginny as organizer, Ben as guest and entertainer. Ben refused the wine Dan handed him, citing his contest diet.
“I’ve made a protein shake for you,” Ginny said. “Dan doesn’t know about your diet the weeks before a contest. I made the menu too, which Dan will cook to perfection.”
The dinner conversation focused on Vinnie. Ben’s empathy came across, even though he’d never met Vinnie. Dan repeated his theory that Vinnie’s attack had been something other than a random hate crime.
When the food was consumed, Ben revealed that he was feeling nervous, and Dan agreed. Ginny clanged her glass: “Enough talk, everyone to the bedroom.”
In the bedroom, Ginny ordered: “Undress. Dan to briefs and Ben to poser suit.”
Ben placed his folded clothes on a chair and applied body oil. Dan didn’t move. Ginny twirled her finger, winding-clock fashion, and said with a harsh voice: “Do it.” Dan obeyed.
Ginny stripped down to her bra and panties, then hugged Dan and swiveled him, his back to Ben, facing the headboard. Over Dan’s shoulders, she had a full view of Ben.
The soft bedroom light glistened off Ben’s oiled Doric thighs that supported a triangular upper torso; a cement-hard chest projected pectorals cantilevered between shoulders.
Music played from Ben’s iPod. On beat three he started his routine: a double bicep, honey-coned peaks on peaks, then a twirl to a side pose.
Muscles percolated, flesh thinned, and veins skimmed Ben’s skin. His nipples formed fireplugs, surrounded by areola quarters. His semicircle horseshoe triceps formed a coral.
With each pose Ginny touched Dan’s corresponding body part. She imagined if Ben exploded, each sinew would land on Dan. Ginny’s flicked her wrists, signaling for Ben to move closer.
Throughout his posing, Ben’s focal point was Dan’s well-defined muscles. Ben was proud of his trainee. The dresser mirror reflected Dan’s Adonis face: licorice lips, high cheekbones, silky eyebrows, and crystalline eyes. Ben squatted, putting him level with Dan’s curved ass, his humps accentuated by tight jockey shorts.
On an impulse, Ben massaged Dan’s back, his cool hands startling Dan. Then he moved his hands down to squeeze Dan’s buttocks, releasing a gasp. Ginny dug her fingernails into Ben’s flared pectorals, which Ben ignored. He snaked his hand between Dan’s lags to crawl beneath his genitals.
Ginny’s kiss stifled Dan’s outcry.
Ben whispered, “Dan, you okay with this? Is this okay, Ginny, can I touch Dan?”
Their re
ply stayed trapped by their kiss.
Ginny broke away. Her feathered voice in Dan’s ear said, “I need this. Ben does too. You owe me.” She held back, For Paris.
Crushed by Ginny’s words and Ben’s chest, Dan whimpered, “Ben, I’m sensitive.”
“It’s okay. I’ve done this before, and we have the same equipment.”
Good, thought Ginny. The men are talking.
Dan craned his neck, made a half turn, and saw Superman. The striated musculature, the Alaskan pipeline veins crisscrossing underneath the skin. Ben’s body had been undraped by his contest diet, revealing new details. He had evolved into a new species.
The men were transfixed by each other until Ginny removed her bra and panties. Dan’s jaw dropped when Ginny pressed her naked breasts against him. With a swift squat, Ginny pulled Dan’s briefs to his ankles, releasing his hardening penis. Ben’s ink drop poser followed, kicked aside.
Without a cue, Ben shot a bicep pose, and Ginny moved to pinch the peak. Ginny dragged her ass across Dan’s hips, taking his penis for a ride; his eyes grew to fill his forehead.
Ben spied Ginny’s wide Cheshire grin as he followed her pointing finger. “Huge, isn’t it?” she said. “Like a porn movie star, wouldn’t you say?”
Ben said nothing.
“One of the biggest I’ve seen, how about you?” Ginny nodded to Ben’s carrot and then to Dan’s beetroot.
Dan chewed his gums. Ben’s mouth curled, and his teeth bit hard against his lips. He stopped flexing, his nostrils flaring.
Ginny knew. I’ve gone too far. This is Paris speaking. I need to stop. She mouthed for Ben to resume, which he did.
“Dan, feel like you’re at the gym,” she said. “Ben’s in contest form.”
Dan looked at Ben, then to his throbbing erection. “I’m sorry, Ben. I don’t know what’s come over me…” Dan felt like he was poolside again; he heard the adolescent laughs. Coach, I need you now.
“Don’t sweat it,” Ben said. “It happens to lots of guys, straight and gay. It’s a completely normal reaction, and I’ll take it as a compliment.” Ben lowered his arm and smiled.
Dan looked away when Ginny’s pushing caused his stiff penis to hit Ben’s abdomen. She guided Dan’s hand along Ben’s furrowed pectorals. She pulled Dan’s hand over Ben’s nipples, hard as hers. The music stopped, but Ben didn’t bow for applause.
Dan cupped his hand over Ginny’s breast, which was smaller than Ben’s.
Ginny felt secure. Dan’s overcome his self-effacement before another man. He’s forgotten his jealousy and fear of abandonment. Her left hand moved from Ben’s nipples to his eight-pack abs, then returned to his pectorals. She anchored her free hand to Dan’s cock and pulled his flared tip to rub her vagina.
Dan suddenly backed away. “No.”
“What?” Ginny had no lilt in her question.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Why did you stop?” Ginny shouted.
Ben, sensing the fight, walked out to the living room.
Dan’s voice sizzled. “You want to have sex with Ben.”
“That’s not true. I admire his physique. Besides, he’s gay—or had you forgotten?” Ginny’s voice was as hot as Dan’s.
“Doesn’t matter. Maybe he’s bi. Your mother warned me that someday your fetish would take a turn.”
“Leave my mother out of this.” Ginny took several breaths. “And I don’t have a fetish and my mother’s theory of sthenolagnia is bullshit.”
“Bullshit’s about right. Why were you touching Ben’s nipples? He doesn’t have muscles in his nipples.”
“Because they’re at the end of his pecs! Basic anatomy, Dan. People use porno films to enhance their sex, don’t they? This is just like that. It’s called fantasy and nothing more.” Ginny was at full volume. “I love you, not Ben. Don’t you love me?”
Dan scowled. “Not at this moment. I agreed to help Ben and you, but all you want is a dumb bodybuilder, not puny me.”
“First, you’re not puny. Second, I refused bigger men before you came along.”
“More bull. You were groping Ben. Say it: you want a muscle freak to satisfy your sthenolagnia fetish.” Dan was shouting now.
Ginny shouted back, “Don’t you become my fucking mother! I’ve had enough. You’re immature and your jealousy is stupid. I’m not interested in Ben as a man. I want to explore his muscles with my hands, not my pussy.”
Ben came back into the room to fetch his clothes. Dan pointed.
“There he is,” Dan said. “Go fuck your big muscleman.”
“You’re a fucking idiot.”
“You’re a muscle slut. I’m not enough of a man for you.”
“You got that right. Chickenshit let a little French asshole push me over.”
Dan’s hands covered his face. Ben walked out.
A wailing cry broke the lull in bedroom enmity. Ginny and Dan rushed to the living room, where they were shocked to see Ben doubled over, rocking, weeping, his hands covering his face.
Squeezing in beside him, Ginny touched his forearm. “What’s wrong?”
Dan knelt before Ben, resting his hands on Ben thighs, ignoring Ben’s genitals. “I’m sorry. None of what I said was about you. This is between Ginny and me. I didn’t mean my derogatory remarks. Please forgive me.”
“Me too,” Ginny added. “I overreacted. I like you for more than your body.”
But Ben’s heaving was unstoppable.
He whimpered, gasped for breath, and cried louder: a primordial anguish, and unbearable to hear. Ginny cried, and Dan joined them. This was a breakdown they had caused.
“Please, Ben. Please stop. Oh god, please stop,” Ginny sobbed.
Ben’s mouth gaped, soundless.
Dan’s tears leaped to Ben’s chest. Ben gasped, choking as he tried to speak. Dan fetched water and held the cup as Ben drank, sucked air, and drank again, the gulping his only sound. When the glass was drained, Ginny brought a refill. Ben finished the second before speaking.
“I’m sorry… I am so sorry… so sorry… so sorry….” A diminuendo refrain.
Ginny placed her arm in Ben’s. “You have nothing to apologize for. I should apologize.”
“Me too,” Dan said. “I said vile things that have nothing to do with you.” He stood behind Ben and rubbed his shoulder.
Ben sobbed, “It’s not your fault.”
“What’s upset you so much?” Ginny asked in a soft whisper.
Ben explained that he felt he had been the fight’s catalyst. It wasn’t their words that bothered him—he’d become immune to insults about bodybuilders being meatheads, queers, grotesque freaks. Bigotry he could handle. But not his own lying. He hadn’t come here for their critique of his routine. He’d wanted intimacy with Dan, something he knew Dan would never have granted. So he had used Ginny.
Dan backed away.
“Not sex, Dan,” Ben clarified. “Just to look and touch.”
Ginny stood, her finger wagging. “You did not cause our fight. So, you wanted to enjoy Dan. That’s not why we argued.”
“Ginny’s right,” Dan said. “It wasn’t your touching me that was the problem. Ginny and I have other issues. Okay, you were untruthful, but we were too.”
Ben’s head was bowed. A tear fell on his thigh.
“There’s something else, isn’t there?” Ginny’s hand on her mouth muffled her question. “Our argument couldn’t have caused such upset. What is it? We’re your friends; you can tell us.”
Chapter 31
Revelation
The past was private. Ben didn’t talk about his past. He asked for a glass of wine.
“Are you sure?” Ginny asked. “What about your competition?”
“Ginny, if I’m going to talk I’ll need alcohol. A glass of wine won’t matter now. I’ve already lost, given my state.”
Ginny and Dan shrugged at the pumped nude god on their couch. Everyone put their clothes back on, and Dan decanted a Montepu
lciano. After two sips and a deep inhale, Ben started his story.
“I was married to a woman once. Marianne. We were high school sweethearts.” He stifled a sob. “We had a child. Carl.”
Ginny touched Ben’s arm.
“I began serious weight training in college. My workout partner got me into bodybuilding. By senior year, I’d won some amateur contests. After graduation, I took State Juniors, which caught a promoter’s eye. I trained part-time, around a boring pharmaceutical sales rep job.”
“Is bodybuilding when you knew you were gay?” Dan asked.
Ginny put her index finger to her lips, and Ben ignored the question.
“I started steroids or I’d never have made pro. Marianne was already pregnant, so I didn’t worry. I matched her pound for pound. My sales position gave me access to good stuff. Marianne lied to her parents. Don’t all families pretend?”
Dan looked at Ginny and her pencil smile.
“Carl’s birth was my happiest moment. Soon after, my serious pursuit of a pro card began, but I needed more training time. I wanted pro status before my twenty-fifth birthday, which few have achieved. My doping and training increased. I quit my job before I was fired. Marianne supported me. She became a second grade teacher. Carl entered daycare at three months.”
Ben threw back half his wine. Ginny saw Dan’s head move up and down.
“We managed, with Marianne’s parents’ help. I won state and regional competitions, and I earned a pro card in eighteen months. The prize money and magazine photos brought in thirty grand a year, which wasn’t enough. Food, supplements, steroids, promoters’ fees and travel… all that ran upwards of twenty-five-thousand.”
“That much?” said Dan.
“Easily. Along the way, I came out. It sounds absurd, since I’d always known, really, but the usual self-denial and shit excuses had held me back. But as a pro, I had more opportunities with muscle groupies and gay men. Marianne’s reaction was… well, you can guess. I told her I loved her, but not in the way she deserved. We divorced. For obvious reasons I didn’t get custody, but I loved my little boy and he loved me. To her credit, Marianne never tried to turn him against me. She granted me weekend privileges, even over her parents’ objections. I helped with babysitting for school meetings and most daycare pickups.”
Ice Cream Man Page 15