by Duncan More
At the end of one song, Don suddenly stopped the songfest. “You know, somehow in all of our paintings, we don’t have any couples. How would you two like to pose? I think it would be a real challenge for Renaldo and I’d love to have one just to remember this night. And there’s a spot over the fireplace where it would look especially nice.”
“Oh, I thank you for the compliment, but I don’t think so. You said you have Christmas parties here for the bank staff. I don’t really think I’d want them to see Eugene and me showing everything.”
“No problem. We’ll take it down that day. But we could enjoy it the rest of the year.”
Dillon looked at Eugene and together they agreed. After all, they would have one for their home and tonight was a rather special night.
“I’ll be right back. Sing something in the meantime.”
“You think he could take a picture of us, too?” Dino asked. “I don’t have one of us.”
“That’s because we’re not a couple. We just date and have sex together.” Hernando was rather terse. He fucked with a lot of guys and didn’t even want to give a hint to anyone that he was with just one guy, not even Dino, whom he was fond of. He liked the guy and liked the sex, but he wasn’t about to become exclusive. Not at this stage of his life. Especially when there were guys out there like Dillon, with a dick and a body that deserved to be adored. Those guys in the Scranton bars who weren’t getting lucky and needed some personal attention. Every Friday and Saturday night – early if Doug and Don weren’t going somewhere or after he brought them home if they did. He had become rather adept at last-call pickups. Enjoyed many a horny guy who didn’t care how he got off as long as he shot a load somewhere.
Don returned shortly with his camera and paired the couple in different poses around the first floor. He even took a few of them separately – always with Dillon facing left and Eugene facing right, in case Renaldo wanted to merge them into one painting instead of separately. His favorite, though, was of Dillon standing in the bow of the piano only obscuring Eugene’s torso as he lay on the top with his head resting on a bent elbow.
Then, as if to soothe some ruffled feathers, he posed Dino and then Hernando, although he had no intention of doing anything with them.
Doug finally ended the photo session. “It’s getting a little late and the old folks are ready to retire for the night. It’s time for you guys to get dressed and Hernando will get you safely home. I really enjoyed this evening. I haven’t heard Don sing so much in years. I’ll tell you what. December is only four months away. I think I will impose upon you two to sing a little at the Christmas party. Those voices need to be shared and appreciated.”
“And so does your body,” Hernando thought to himself about Dillon.
“We’d be happy to,” Eugene said, “provided you get everybody to join us for carols after. You always have such a holiday spirit here for that party.” He looked at Dillon, “Picture this place festooned with garlands of greenery and a uniquely themed bedecked tree in every room! I still remember the Star Trek tree – little model Enterprises flying all over it, and there was a gingerbread tree over in that corner. Simply gorgeous!”
“Thank you,” said Doug. “We have the girls from Bloomin’ Idiots come and hang the garlands and set up the trees. Then we decorate one tree a night starting the Sunday after Thanksgiving. Takes us almost two weeks.”
“You know,” Don said, “we are open for suggestions for this year. Having trouble coming up with new ideas. Not that we’ve given it that much thought yet.”
“There was a tree in a bank up home. They did it in small lollipops and multi-colored lights. They had someone giving every kid who came in with a parent one of those three-inch wide pops – like you used in that show, Eugene.”
“We’ve already done that here, but I like the idea for our bank,” Doug interjected. “Any others?”
“Disney Tree?”
“Nope.”
“Poinsettia tree?”
“Nope.”
“Aids ribbon tree?”
“No, too specific,” Don injected, “but I like the idea if we expanded the colors, pink for breast cancer, black for p.o.w.’s, yellow for suicide awareness or support for our military forces, teal for anti-bullying, and all the other colors – maybe with a little note attached stating what they symbolize. It could be our awareness tree. A lot of people at the courthouse are wearing the teal one right now.”
“Great idea,” Doug concurred. “One down and nine more ideas to go. Thanks, gentlemen. And now goodnight. Hernando, drive safely.”
“Very safely. These are two of Doug’s best employees.” Don shook hands with each of them as they descended the porch steps. “See you at 7:30 for the ride to mass, Hernando.”
“Yes, sir, and again at ten for Don’s Sunday service.”
“Thank you for your hospitality,” Dino said. “Would it be rude of me to ask to ride into town and back with Hernando and keep him company?”
“Not at all. Just no fooling around till you get back to wherever you two are spending the night.”
“Agreed.”
They headed to the car. “Get in the back seat with Eugene and get friendly with him,” Hernando whispered to him.
Dino looked surprised but was used to obeying Hernando’s wishes. Hernando opened the front door for Dillon. He had a plan. Nothing overt – maybe a little hand-holding or at least contact, maybe some thigh massaging – just laying the groundwork for later intimacy.
He eased the car down the driveway, headed down the road, and periodically glanced in the mirror to see what kind of action Dino might be starting. He was disappointed to notice they were sitting on opposite ends of the seat and just infrequently talking. He glanced more frequently toward Dillon’s crotch and remembered what was lurking under the clothing.
“You boys in a hurry to get home? I was just wondering if Eugene has taken you to The Copper Penny yet?”
“Never heard of it,” Dillon replied, aware of Hernando’s hand on the seat inching toward him.
“It’s a bar in Scranton. Almost all men and a few fag hags. Wild dancing, healthy cocktails. They don’t scrimp on the booze.”
“Oh. What’s a fag hag?”
“A straight chick who feels more comfortable with gay guys and doesn’t have to worry about getting hit on by testosterone-driven straights.”
“Never heard of it.”
“If you guys wanted to party some more tonight, I could drive you there. Maybe even get in a dance or two with Dino.”
“No, not tonight. I think it’s definitely home and to bed. That swimming sort of tired me out.”
Damn, Hernando thought to himself. Time for plan B. “Well, if you guys ever want to go, I’d be happy to take you. Let me give you my phone number. Any night I’m not chauffeuring Doug or Don around, I am free and available.”
“Maybe. Never been to an all-gay bar. Bet it’s a lot different than Wayne’s.”
“Yeah, hotter men and mostly shirtless showing off what they got. Not that most of them could compare to you. Some of them are into tattoos and piercings, but most are just ordinary guys like me. Some guys are making out but nothing obscene – zippers for the most part are up, although I’m sure there have been some blowjobs in the men’s room over the years. I’m sure you and Eugene would like it there.”
“Fuck! Time for Plan C.” He headed the car to Rupert’s Corners and pulled up in front of the house. He opened the door for Dillon and helped him out. He opened the door for Eugene, who extricated himself quickly. “Mind if I use your facilities. I forgot to hit the loo at the judges’ before we left.”
“No problem.” They mounted the porch. “Up the stairs to the left,” Eugene said as he unlocked the door.
“Thanks.” Over the toilet tank as he relieved himself, Hernando spied a framed picture of Gia. “Who’s that babe in the picture over the toilet?” he asked as he descended. “Didn’t expect to find a chick picture in this house. She�
�s hot. Looks almost like Cher.”
“That’s me as Gia last year at Halloween at Wayne’s Wild West Way Station.”
“Wow, man! You make one hot mother-fucking woman!”
“Thanks.”
“Only do it at Halloween?”
“No,” Dillon said. “He does a performance every two or three Fridays at Wayne’s.”
“Wow! When’s the next one? I’ve got to come see this. How the hell do you change like that?”
“Lots of tucking and make-up. They’ve got me scheduled for next Friday at 10:30.”
“I’ll try to be there.” Plan D was forming in his mind. Eugene on stage, Dillon in the audience, him right behind Dillon getting him lots of tequila for their first time together. Then a friendly arm around his waist, and then a gentle squeeze on his butt while whispering how good the performance was and maybe the first nibble on the ear. Not since Satan in the Garden with Eve was a plot being so carefully schemed. “Well, I have to get the car back. Dino is waiting. It was very nice spending the evening with you both.” He planted a quick kiss on both their lips, Eugene’s first. “As I just said, I’ll try to be in your audience next Friday if the judge’s schedule allows me.” Then it was Dillon’s turn – breaking down Dillon’s cheating taboo a little bit. First contact had been made. “Call me when you want to make that road trip. Here’s my number. He handed Dillon a business card and headed back to the car. Dino would have to suffice for the night.
Chapter Fourteen
“Well, that was quite a night! I really enjoyed meeting the judge. I mean, I’ve met him as a co-host of the Christmas party, but I never really got to know him – spend actual personal time in his company before. I can see why Mr. Fredericks has been with him for twenty-seven years. They’ve built quite a life together.”
“I’ll say. He certainly made us feel comfortable. They’re not the kind of people I’m accustomed to being around. All that money! Nothing like that in Maine. I mean, I didn’t even feel awkward posing for a future portrait.”
“And we get a small one for the house for us.”
“What did you think of Hernando and Dino?”
“Seemed like a nice pair of guys. Sort of reminded me of Larry before he met Bill. Two guys who would get together for a little release every so often. Tonight was the first time I really met them.”
“He drove Mr. Fredericks and me to Scranton that day for lunch. What did you think when he started sucking Dino right there in the pool?”
“Actually a little awkward. Sort of wanted to do the same to you, but you know me, bedroom activities should be private, not on exhibition. But don’t worry. As soon as we get upstairs, I prove how much I want to tonight. Try to keep me away and it will be totally wasted effort.”
“That would never cross my mind – even if I had a headache. But tell me – if we weren’t together and Hernando hit on you, would you consider it?”
“That’s a foolish question. I’m with you and that’s how I want it to be. Me and you. Why would you even ask such a question?”
“Because all night I think he was subtly trying to put the moves on both of us. It seemed that every time I glanced his way he was either staring at you or at me. And I mean staring, not just looking. And then he just had to kiss us both as he left. And what he gave me was not a friendly kiss. He really pressed his lips tight to mine. I almost expected he was going to give me some tongue. I’m not sure how I would have reacted if he did. I did find him sort of sexy.”
“Well. If we are going to be totally honest with each other, and I hope we always will, so did I. Before I met you, I may have considered it. But that was then. We are now. Come on, my little Jonathan Buttall, let’s get upstairs and I’ll prove how much we are now and for always.”
“Who’s Jonathan Buttall?”
“The model who posed for Gainsborough’s BlueBoy.”
“God, you know so much. Race you upstairs.”
Clothes were off and bodies were joined and words like forever, love, and fidelity were being exchanged as pelvic thrusts became more intense as orgasms neared. They were whispered into wanting ears as they wrapped arms around each other and drifted off in pure contentment.
Eugene was awakened about two hours later and Dillon was pushing him forcibly away protesting “NO! NO! NO!” And then the legs started kicking violently.
“Dillon, Dillon, wake up! You’re having a nightmare. It’s alright, Baby. You’re safe.”
“Oh my God! Oh my God! It was horrible.”
“It was only a dream. It wasn’t real.”
“It was horrible. Hernando came to our door and said Mr. Fredericks needed to see me immediately at the house. I believed him and got in the limo. Well, he took me somewhere out in the country, parked, and told me to get out. When I refused, the door opened and Mike Bonavena yanked me out. He was naked and had a rod on that reached his nipples. Hernando told me that I had to suck him off or Mike was going to split me in half with that thing and then they would come for you. I was going to do it. Anything to save you. I got down on my knees on the grass in front of Hernando. He sneered at me and told me to get all my clothes off first. He wanted to watch me jerk off while I sucked him. He just stood in front of me waving his cock and telling me how much I really wanted to do it – to wrap my lips around it and go to town. That’s when Mike interrupted him. “You know, I’m going to jail because of that other faggot. I ain’t gonna be gettin’ any pussy for a while – so I might as well get used to fucking guys and I think I’ll start with this one.” He hoisted me up and forced me on my back across some picnic table. As Hernando was getting close to shoving his dick in my mouth, Mike spit on his hand and rubbed it on my hole. There was no way he was going to stick that monster in me. That’s when I started punching at him and kicking to keep him away. Thank god, you woke me up!”
Dillon was still shaking as Eugene cradled him in his arms and tried to soothe him. “It’s all right, babe. It was just a bad dream. You’re here and safe. Roll on your other side. Let me hold you tight in my arms and go back to sleep.”
As if dreams could pass from one to another and bring with them foreknowledge, images formed in Eugene’s brain: there was Hernando at the door, for Eugene saying Mr. Fredericks needed him. “No, he doesn’t. That’s just a pretense to get me into the limo. I don’t like sex in cars. So how about you just close the door behind you and we go upstairs? You want to fuck me or get a blowjob?” This was nothing out of the ordinary in his past. Pre-Dillon. “Actually I’d like to 69 with you while your boyfriend is fucking one of us or both. I think that would be so hot.” Immediately they were feasting on prick in the bed and Dillon joined them, pounding his prick into Hernando with all the gusto he exhibited with Eugene.
He remembered the dream when he awoke, but opted not to mention it at all to Dillon. They agreed to be totally honest, but dreams have nothing to do with reality, so he kept mum. All Sunday they just lounged around the house, watching the last exhibition football game as Dillon explained a lot of things about the game to Eugene. Two movies, replete with soda and popcorn, and they called it a night. It was a full work-week ahead.
The next week was a rather sedate week. Mavis interviewed several people who had heard about what Dillon had done for Michael Kistler and came seeking loans for themselves. A Thomas Gregory actually thought for the first time that he might be able to afford a house of his own instead of renting. A Theresa Meyers seriously thought about finishing her university degree. Four people were wanting to get new or newer cars. Dennis Carrillo thought about re-roofing instead of spot patching. And then it was Friday afternoon and Dillon had the whole weekend off while it was Eugene’s turn to pull a Saturday shift as a teller. Dillon was a little relieved, as every day he had been receiving a bullying e-mail from someone calling themselves Dick Hardon, Dick Long, Richard Long, Peter Long, and U. R. Johnson. It was annoying him, but he didn’t want to alarm Eugene – not after the hassles he had endured from Mike Bonavena. He
had saved them all – neatly in a folder called “threats.” He derived some amusement from them with the abundance of grammar errors. He wasn’t sure if they were sent by someone uneducated or just trying to sound that way. All he knew for sure was they were all sent from the same IP address. He couldn’t tell whose it was but he mildly suspected Boyd Hopkins. Unless he involved the police, he couldn’t legally check out the IP address, so he saved them all as evidence in case something more sinister ever happened.
You fucking cum-sucker – why don’t you take your fairy ass back where ever the fuck you came from. We don’t need your kind here.
Fuckin’ homo – one of these nites we’re gonna get you and then you’ll know what it’s like to have three straight dudes pounding your sissy ass. You are forewarned. Get out of Dodge before it’s too late for your skinny ass.
Want you to know one of these nights your gonna wrap your pretty boy lips around me and taste a real man’s load. You’re such a fruitcake.
Why you settling for six inches in your pretty-boy whole. I got nine and I’m gonna shove it up u some day real soon. Jes waiting to ram you with my dick, you little queer. I’ll split you right in half with my thick fuckstick, with no fuckin lube neither.
Dillon=faggot=aids=death I can’t wait, you cocksucker. Just might skip step three and kill you myself. Get out now, pussy ass. Save yourself. Think your Eugene got a beatin! Hell, you’ll still be bleeding two days after they take you to the morgue.
It was a non-eventful weekend: a little karaoke, mowing the grass, two pro football games on the television and lots of cuddling, and then back to work on Monday morning, all refreshed. The week started most fortuitously for Dillon. He had just finished giving Mr. Fredericks the bottom price he had negotiated with Intellex and been accepted by the company according to the e-mail on his computer. He had saved the bank almost 25%, so the board would be satisfied. He had returned to his office and barely gotten seated when Mavis opened his office door.