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Aside from all manner of homosexual behavior, I have one additional warning. There is occasional mention of drug use characteristic of the time period. I promise that it is only incidental here and there and not constant. It was not included to proselytize but only for the sake of authenticity.
Addendum: There is a further note that the word nigger is used and it is important to know that is not used derisively or with any contempt or disrespect. It is used in the way Mark Twain used it in Huckleberry Finn.
“New York 1912” by Larkin all rights reserved
Continued upon request:
jet2larkin at Jeemale dot kom---- (reinterpret)
Three First Class Tickets:
Passing me on the far side of the street was Myles' Father, Mr. Koenig, Manfred Koenig to be exact.
He appeared to be buried in thought. "Mr. Koenig, what a pleasure. How are you?"
At first I don't think the he recognized me.
He said."You boys grow up so fast."
"How is your wife and have you heard from Myles? Last I heard he was with this Mother's relatives in England."
We were out front of my house and Mr. Koenig said, "Edmund, could I come in just for a minute so that we could talk privately?"
We went to my room and closed the door. It seemed so strange to be in a room with Mr. Koenig where I had buggered his son so constantly."
"Myles is back in Germany. He went through Sweden only a week after the war started to accept a position in the Kaiser's Navy. Edmund I can't tell you more than that because of security and my position in the Embassy."
Mr. Koenig, I've booked passage on the Cunard line for the boys and I, two weeks from today. Would it rude to impose on your wife's family without Myles? I could cancel but the boys will be very disappointed. Billy is already fluent in pounds, shillings and pence.
"Edmund you've been a friend of Myles and our family for a long time so there is no question about being their guest but I am going to urge you to cancel anyway. Please do this for me." His comment was heavy and serious.
"Isn't this war just a skirmish that will settle down once they come to their senses? I mean, sooner or later, they are bound to run out of bullets."
Mrs. Koenig and I are going to Havana for a few weeks but I'm afraid that we are closing the apartment and I'm taking a post in Rio de Janeiro.
Before going out the front door, Mr. Koenig gently took hold of my upper arm and said, "Edmund, please cancel your trip. Do it for me. I promise you that there will be other times but do me this favor."
The whole thing seemed so puzzling.
I liked the weekend mornings because Billy would be home and Peter was sometimes off in his various activities usually having to do with the repaired Marmon. For better or worse he has turned into a gay blade.
But on those times it would be Billy and I, having the peace and time to lull and lay upon each other. In the 3 years since the unfortunate affair that brought us together, he has grown a foot or more taller and his still almost hairless body is silky and smooth and warm to the touch. He has become incredibly sweet and affectionate with me and does not seem to worry about the boyish attributes that are so important to Peter. He clings to me and reassures me that I am important to him. My careless meeting with him in Madison Square and his perilous, uncertain circumstances and my unwise rescue has been the best thing I have ever done with my life.
We were both naked and I erect when Peter walked in to the room. He dropped jacket on the floor, kicked off his shoes and the rest until he too was naked and crawled onto bed.
"You know these fancy ladies don't know anything."
He joined us as an essential part of our trio.
"The reason I prefer Billy and,.. you too Edmund, is that when I get a throbbing cock, you know exactly what has to be done. These girls or ladies or whatever they are, are so wrapped up in themselves and what their parents think or their brother or sister, the neighbor or the minister at the church and if we are going to get engaged or married, all I want is to pull down their panties and examine their pussy and play with the clitoris thingy and, if it is asking too much, play with my cock."
Billy lay with his head resting on my chest listening to Peter's idle talk.
Billy sleepily commented, "I'll do it, just ask me."
Peter went on, "What's the point. When you go see the whores you know that they have been fucked by an army before you got there, I might as well stick my cock in a bog, but I'm not sure if these stupid, religious rich girls even know I have a dick between my legs? And, the ones that know the score are all too often ugly."
I looked at Peter, "Dick, where did you hear that?"
"Oh. it's nigger talk for penis."
I considered it for a moment. "Well that one is new to me."
Peter stroked Billy's back. "Have you fucked him yet?"
Brushing Billy's hair out of his eyes I said, "I was about to just as you walked in."
"That's good because I'll do it first so you can get my juzum all over your big cock when it's your turn."
I responded, "Well, now that you've dragged me down into the gutter, get on with it and when you're finished fucking Billy and then I fuck you instead?"
He nodded in approval, "Ok."
Billy lay peacefully waiting. He lifted his up head to say, "Will you two make up your mind."
"Ya know Edmund, when you're off somewhere or already spent or smoking your opium pipe, he comes lookin for me because I know how to do it right." He started preparing Billy.
With his head still on my chest and on his lying on his belly, Billy started adjusting his posture making his rear end sexually receptive. I thought of fighting Peter for the rights but decided that the view from where I was laying, was superb. After preliminary spit and fingering, Peter mounted him. That brought him up almost face to face where he then offered me his tongue while he fucked away. I was thinking, these girls are really missing out, and it was all to my advantage because instead of getting Peter's jizum all over my cock, I tasted it from where he so skillfully delivered it.
We repeated the same exercise in a different sequence during the wee hours and then slept late.
It was Friday and I thought I had better get over there. Peter always need a 15 or 20 minutes to make sure that the Auto was greased and ready to go. I climbed in next to Peter and explained, "I have to go to Manufacturer Hanover and Trust on 8th avenue and then down to the Chelsea Piers on 23rd Street."
Peter gave me one of his looks. "I'm not a fucking cab driver!"
I didn't mean to but I was quick with him. "Well then, don't ask for a taxi fare."
The engine suddenly stopped and Peter climbed out leaving me alone.
"Fine, then drive yourself, I don't give a shit!"
I thought to myself, oh no...! I have been through these cycles of reassurance and apologies many times. I cornered him and hugged him and his frown continued.
He struggled but I refused to let him go. "Peter forgive me, you are the best and I am crazy about you!."
His frown wilted just a little. "Are you going make me beg?"
He said, "Yes."
"He crossed his arms in mock determination, but his frown had lessened only a bit more."
I fell to my knees and hugged him around his bottom, "Please, please."
He relented and we got on the road cheerful as ever.
No boats were arriving or departing so we could park and go to the Cunard ticketing office.
The office was nicely furnished. "Excuse me but I am booked for 3 on the trans-Atlantic passage for Monday May 1st at 10 am. and I'm afraid that I must cancel. I hope it's not too late to do so? I think we were supposed to be in cabin 23."
The balding man was seated at a typewriting machine. He picked up a folder and scanned the passenger rosters.
He brought over some forms for me to sign. He organized them with carbons so that there would copies. "Be sure to press down hard so it records the copies."
The portly man waited for me to finish and looked around the room as if he had nothing to say.
Then he shuffled the papers back into the folder giving one copy to me. "
"You know, it's really too bad. It's not everyone who has the opportunity to travel first class aboard the Lusitania."
Continued upon request:
jet2larkin at Jeemale dot kom---- (reinterpret)