I must preface this story by saying that it is pure fantasy. As you might know, I don't always write fantasy. Sometimes I write fact disguised as fantasy. It's up to you to tell the difference. I avoid the usual disclaimers because, I figure, why are you here in the first place? Wouldn't you like to be surprised for a change?
by Larkin, .... jet2larkin (at) gmail (.) com
Part 4: The Encounter, Keys, A turn of Events
Peter was dressing to go out. It was late but in the city that never mattered. He pulled on a clean black tee shirt and threaded a belt through his pants and was out the door. He took the A train down to the Village. I was a small dark intimate bar. The man told Peter his name but he instantly forgot it. They walked along Greenwich avenue. The man was cheerful and glad to have company.
Before they had left the bar, the man had whispered in Peter's ear. "You don't have to reciprocate. I really don't mind."
Peter didn't look directly at him and nodded silently. He hadn't intended to reciprocate anyway. The man was shorter, in his fifties and balding. He wore an over sized sweater that hid his paunch and wore shoes with small gold plated buckles on them. It was a small apartment on the second floor of a nice building. Peter climbed the stairs and was let in through a doubled locked door. The interior was a dark mini palace full garish antiques and oriental rugs. A dim multi-colored lantern hung from the ceiling giving the room an mystical and eerie light.
A voice from the kitchenette, "What can I get you to drink?"
Peter said, nothing. He didn't plan to stay long.
The man had lowered himself in front of Peter and stroked his thigh between his legs. There was a pause that went on too long for Peter's comfort. He looked down at the man. Peter's face lacked all emotion.
In a soft but firm voice, he said, "It's ok, do what you want to do, I won't think any less of you."
Peter didn't think much of the man to begin with. It was understood that he was getting a blow-job for money and that was the sum total of it. Being emotionally detached made it all the more lurid. He took out his half erected cock and shook it in front of the man's face. The man looked up at him and passively opened his mouth. Peter rudely stuck it in. This sort of encounter brought out the worst in him. He had contempt for the man beneath him and it stiffened his cock completely. He held the man's head with both hands as if it was some nameless object and fucked it hard. He roughly pushed the man away and then gestured him back on his cock for more. The man behaved as if he was being abused and humiliated against his will but they both knew that was exactly what he wanted and it was what Peter was getting paid for. Peter could feel his cum welling up inside of him and his cock stiffened even more. In and out of the man's mouth it went and he was getting close.
Peter said, "You want it?"
The man still had his mouth open. He didn't move while Peter masturbated into his mouth and let the syrupy cum fall in his mouth and cross the his face. Peter had full filled his task and was glad to be done with it. He was shaking his cock out in the man's face when the man suddenly clutched his chest and looking up at Peter, gasped and fell forward on to the floor. A strange gurgling sound came from him and then he was completely still.
"Oh shit! The motherfucker's dead. He must have had a heart attack."
Peter had no idea what to do. He stood there for many minutes. After more time had passed he finally knelt down next to the man and turned him over. He was blue. There was a contorted expression on his face as if he had been in awful pain and his eyes were open. The effect was unsettling. Peter guessed that he was dead.
He thought, "Motherfucker! I still gotta get paid.."
He went through the man's pockets and found a fold of bills.
He counted out the two that was owed him and then counted the rest.."Three, four, five hundred..."
He thought about it for a minute then put all the money in his pocket and got ready to leave.
Peter thought to himself, "He's not going to need the money, but I know I will."
He stopped just before he was going to open the door to leave. He turned around and surveyed the small apartment. "I better see if there's anything worthwhile before I go.
Peter found a shopping bag and started picking up some of the knick knacks made of glass and different color enamels that were all around the apartment. There were crystal birds and carved animals. He had no idea what they were or how much they were worth but he could find out later. He searched drawers and the closets. He was just putting a brightly colored egg into his bag when he saw the man sitting up.
"Just what do you think you are doing!"
Peter stopped, stunned to see the man alive again.
The man's voice was shrill, "I treat you like a friend and bring you to my home and now you are robbing me."
Peter looked confused, "I thought you was dead."
"I'm not dead. Now give me my things before I call the police."
Peter gave the man the shopping bag filled with his treasures. "You would have walked out of here with all my beautiful things. I am sorry I ever met you. We could have been great friends and now I can never trust you again."
He struggled to his feet and Peter came over brushed off his clothes and tried to organize the man's collar.
Up close to the man Peter spoke in a calming and friendly voice. "We can still be friends and anyway, If you was dead, what difference would it have made? Wouldn't you rather see me get something that someone else?"
The man gave him a vague, slightly mischievous glance.
Peter said, "If you're alright, I better go, ok?"
The man walked Peter to the door. Before leaving, they embraced. Peter promised the man that he would come to visit again..
He never did.
Joey wore them on a string around his neck. There was the key the apartment where he lived with his Mother and a key to Peter's. Peter's key looked different because it was a Fox lock. What made it different was that the key opened a lock that was squarely in the center of the door. When the key was turned, it moved a steel pole aside that prevented anyone or anything from breaking the door down.
It was already afternoon when he let himself into Peter's apartment. The boy climbed up on the bed and made himself comfortable next to the still sleeping Peter. It was Joey's gentle humming that finally woke Peter.
Covering his eyes with his fore arm, Peter said, "What's that song yer singin?"
"Gilligan's Island." Joey started it over again.
Peter lay quietly and listened to the boy's music.
After a bit he sat up in bed and made an effort to focus on the world. "You want to go downstairs and get me a Coke and a Hershey bar?"
Joey sat up and got ready to go. As if to stress his independence he said, "I got money."
Peter called after him, "Get the one with nuts!"
When Joey returned, Peter had been up and around and wearing only a tee shirt, was returning to bed. Peter's large cock and balls had always been a source of silent fascination to the boy. His own penis seemed trivial next to Peter's. Peter sat up in bed leaving himself carelessly exposed. Joey crawled up next to him and distributed the items from the store. They both had a can of soda and assorted candy bars. After they had finished, Joey slipped himself under Peter's arm so that he could be closer. He had grown to like Peter's strong scent. He rested his cheek against Peter's chest as if he had found the safest place on earth. From that place, he was able to look down at Peter's cock without Peter returning a challenging gaze. He never minded but sometimes it was just the curiosity of a fatherless boy. Peter lightly handled his cock careful not the rush the unique and unlikely thing that was just beginning to unfold.
"Oh, I got something for you!"
He reached down to the floor next to the bed to get his pants. Going through his pockets Peter pulled out the money he had gotten from the man that almost died. Out of it he took a $100 bill and gave it to Joey. Joey's eyes widen and then his face broke into a beautiful smile. He took the bill and held it up to look at the face of Ben Franklin. The boy's thrilled excitement made Peter's cock rise knowing that he had made Joey happy.
Peter was smiling. "Put that away and don't fuckin lose it."
Joey stuffed it into his pocket and cuddled up closer to Peter. He reached down and gently touched Peter's cock. It lay across his stomach and it rose up to meet his finger tips. Joey slid down and put his mouth on Peter's cock and opened wider letting Peter slide it in.
This was another world from the night before. Peter's feelings for the man he had picked up in the bar were so different. They were feelings that were empty and without emotion. It was sex as an act of contempt. The older portly man that could have been the father he never had and here he was on his knees before him. Just for that he hated his guts.
He hoped that Joey would never regard him that way. Without stopping Joey from what he was doing, he began to undress him. His worn out shoes gave way to the same dirty socks. He pressed the sole of the boy's foot to his face. Joey was ticklish and he twitched and jerked. Peter held his foot tight and closed his eyes.
Peter, who was once neglected and discarded, Peter, who was never loved by anyone and got along on his own, realized something for the first time. He realized that he loved Joey the way someone should have loved him.
Carefully he slid the boys lose pants and underwear down. It was almost heart-breaking how small and thin the boy was. Peter lifted him up so that he could pull off his tee shirt. When did, they both embraced as if they had found everything they ever needed in each other.
A Turn of Events:
In the late afternoon, they were both roused by the sputtering and malfunctioning buzzer. It was the front door downstairs.
"It's me, Jeanie, let me in!"
Still naked, Peter and Joey quickly dressed and tried to make their pretence of innocence look plausible. Jeanie entered the apartment in an excited flurry.
Pete said "All's I got to drink is some Coke but it's sort of flat."
She was breathless, "Oh God no, I'm alright."
Jeanie sat on the edge of the bed trying to organize herself. She was out of breath from climbing the stairs.
"Oh shit, I don't know where to start! Joey, how would you like to live in Las Vegas?"
Her son gave her a puzzled look.
Looking at Peter, she said, "I met this guy that owns a club and I'm pretty sure I got a job."
She quickly looked at Joey, "Joey, I know you're gonna like him."
Peter voice lacked enthusiasm. "That's great Jeanie."
She could barely contain herself. "Oh shit, I'm so excited!"
As quickly as a light switch, Jeanie turned serious. "Peter, I got a problem.. do you, .. I mean it's a lot to ask, ...but do you think Joey can stay with you until I get organized out there?"
Peter acted cagey. "I don't know, for how long?"
"Just as soon as I get a few pay checks and get a place, I promise. Peter, I don't have much money but I can send some more when I can."
She pushed several twenties into his reluctant hand.
Peter looked down at the money in his hand and then up at Jeanie.
"Yeah, he can stay here, Joey's no trouble."
Jeanie jumped up and hugged Peter in an excited and emotional flourish.
"Oh thank you, thank you!"
Joey silently watched the two people in his life trade on his future. His Mother barely noticed whether Joey approved or disapproved in matters that concerned his destiny.
"Peter, here is a number that I can be reached at and if anything comes up I'll leave a message on my machine in the apartment."
Peter looked at the business card that Jeanie had given him. It was a glossy red card with fiery black lettering that said, "The inferno". There was an address and a phone number and under that, it said, Just 2 blocks off the strip.
Jeanie hugged and kissed Joey, was out the door and gone. The two sat silently on the bed together and just stared at the door to the apartment where Jeanie had just exited. The whole event hadn't had time to sink in.
Finally Joey said, "I've lived with some of my Mother's boyfriends before, I rather stay here with you."
Peter looked at Joey and was relieved.
Then with half a laugh he said, "What the fuck am I gonna do with you?"
More of my pieces under Prolific Authors on Nifty and to your
left, scroll down to Larkin
If you like my work please show your appreciation by making a
contribution to Nifty on my behalf.