Date: Mon, 19 Jun 2017 14:12:09 -0400
From: Orson Cadell <orson.cadell@gmail.com>
Subject: Lake Desolation 15

Please see original story (www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/rural/lake-desolation/)
for warnings and copyright. Highlights: All fiction. All rights
reserved. Includes sex between adult men. Go away if any of that is against
your local rules. Practice safer sex than my characters. Write if you like,
but flamers end up in the nasty bits of future stories. Donate to Nifty
**TODAY** at donate.nifty.org/donate.html to keep the cum coming.

*****

I get Logan to the room, strip him and tuck him into the bed. I kiss him
and he smiles wanly, then drifts off the sleep. Stress suddenly relieved:
the greatest sleep aid known to man. I sit in the living room, breathing
deeply and staring at Freedom Tower, contemplating the fact that I just
committed my first string of felonies. Well, aside from some of my plots
that *should* have been illegal. I quietly walk into the bedroom and sit on
the chair, watching my love sleeping. My heart empties of all concern
looking at his features. I feel a tear try to fall, but it never
does. Wally was right. Maria *would* be very happy.

*****

Lake Desolation 15: Make Love Not Sex

By Bear Pup

Monday evening (8)

*****

I retreat into the other room and make some calls. My editor would gut me
if he found out I was in The City and didn't stop in. I also wanted to talk
to my personal lawyer about protecting 'Larry'. There were also a couple of
other authors that I should at least chat with.

I make an appointment with the lawyer for Wednesday, literally thinking to
myself, 'I should at least give some time for the ink to dry.' I book two
hours with my editor for tomorrow. We normally don't go that long, but I
persuade him to let me buy him dinner. Normally, I'd let him choose, but
there is a place I've been longing to try but could never get Maria to even
consider. BarBacon. We agree to meet at four in his office then walk the
long-block to the gastropub.

I call a half-dozen of the author-friends on my mental list and chat for a
while with each. Babs is incredibly bored and dropping 'hints' like heavy
ordinance about having dinner. I won't use her whole name because the
tawdry, foul-mouthed, raucous delight she actually is would horrify the
famously-prissy and repressed matrons who consumed her works like the
bon-bons they normally are. I agree to meet her for dinner at Bills Burger
Bar in the lobby of the hotel. I know I'm lining us up for two 'burgerish'
places in a row, but I have a feeling Logan won't mind.

We agree to seven and I ring Bill's. I'm not the only Marriott regular that
they know by name, and they are always happy to push someone off the list
to make room. Plus, a table for three is never a problem there. I resign
myself to sitting at a high-top but hope a little 'green lubricant' to the
hostess will change that a bit.

I get Logan up at five so I have time to cuddle and coo with my lover (Wow!
I got 'my' and 'lover' in the same thought without an ellipsis between to
words. That's real progress!). When I have him to contented sighs, we get
cleaned up and dressed and make our way to the Concierge Lounge. Logan
grabs a juice drink and I get a Perrier as I sit back and absorb the pulse
of the Financial District in miniature. Unlimited angst is always the daily
special, but the turmoil of President Twitter seems to have ratcheted up
the tension. Interesting.

At six-forty-five, we head down and find the hostess awash in people. I
quietly walk to the end of the line when I hear a familiar, gruff
voice. Lukas has been there is some function for as long as I've eaten at
Bill's. "Stettler, good to see you." He walks up and shakes my hand like
he's been waiting for me. He walks us past the line casually and pulls us
into a booth off to one side. "You asked for three. Who will be joining
you?"

I smile widely, knowing the reaction will be fun. "Just Babs, Lukas." The
man rolls his eyes.

"Oh, God, Stettler. Again? I'll alert the bar. At least it's not her *and*
Cate. I'd have to call in emergency bartenders! Is this another young
author I need to worry about?"

"Lukas, meet my nephew, Larry Mallory. Actually, he's so distantly related
that I'd have to pull out a Peerage to tell you the relationship, but
Nephew works. Larry, this very smooth fiend is Lukas Kapralek, a Czech, but
still good company regardless." Lukas laughs as he shakes hands.

"Don't listen to him, my new friend. My main job when Stettler is around is
to keep his dining companions from seeing the bottom of their glasses. Good
to meet you, and I'll be off to find the case or two of J&B that I'll be
needing."

"STETTLER! You hound!" I'm being kissed by a flamboyant ball of energy with
defiantly-grey hair and streak of some radioactive green colour this time.
"And who's your pup?" She pulls the wide-eyed Logan into a bear hug and
kisses both cheeks quickly. "Aren't you just a doll! Are you married? Would
you like to be? For tonight at least? Damn, you are a stud aren't you? Just
say the word. We can use Stettler's bed; God knows that he won't. I'm Babs,
but I'll answer to anything that ends with J&B and Tonic. Ah! Lukas, you
old chicken thief. Just what I needed!"

Pretending affront pride, "Babs, I am not a 'chicken' thief. I'm a Czech
thief. We never settle for mere livestock and you know it. I also know from
painful experience not to wait for the staff to take your order. This
J&B-Tonic is on the house, just to avoid the cost of damage to the bar if
you had to wait more than a few seconds." They cheek-kiss happily and he
wanders off. I nudge the shell-shocked Logan and give him a reassuring
smile.

"Babs, the young man you've just shocked into silence is Larry Mallory, a
relation of Mar-- {cough} Maria's and, at the moment, my charge. Larry,
this terrifying woman is [____] but call her Babs. If he adoring fans found
out what she's really like, they'd start buying Julie Garwood and J&B would
got out of business when Babs has to revert to rotgut vodka. How you doing,
honey?"

"Oh, Stettler. I heard that catch. I'm doing fine, baby. You healing up
okay?"

"Actually, yeah. I'm writing again, even!" The small talk proceeds from
there, interrupted within five minutes by an absolutely delectable little
waitress bringing a bowl of their excellent Guacamole and two big baskets
of chips with individual sauce bowls. And the second J&B-Tonic. Fuck, it's
nice to be a minor celebrity! She takes our drink orders, A Brooklyn Local
#2 Belgian beer for me and a lemonade for Logan.

We chat for a while and Babs, as always, draws Logan into the conversation
frequently, forcing the intimidated young man to relax. It's her
superpower, really. I've never seen anyone stay uptight around Babs in
party mode. She is knocking back cocktails like water and I'm likely one of
the few to know that's more or less what she's drinking. J&B is more the
colouring agent than anything else; Lukas knows how to mix for Babs and
will go through a hell of a lot of tonic water tonight.

Another bowl of guac with fresh drinks for Logan and Babs comes with the
waitress taking our orders.

Babs hasn't even opened her menu yet and doesn't need
to. "Bill's-Chopped-extra-feta-no-chickpeas," she rattles off the name of
the salad as a single, long word. I order a South of the Border, medium
rare and Logan just nods and asks for the same. Babs has her eyes slightly
lidded.

"So, Larry, how did you meet Stettler?" She's fishing, but I'm pretty sure
she can't set the hook on 'Larry'.

"My grandmother, Nana Ruth, was Maria's cousin. When my parents decided
that I, uh, needed time to, um 'sort out my priorities'," you could hear
the air-quotes, "they asked Jaco-- um, Stettler if I could come for a
visit."

"Jacob?" She raises an eyebrow.

"Um, sorry. I just never knew him as Stettler. I didn't even know really
what he wrote. Only that Maria's husband was an author named Jacob
Schweitzer." Babs smiles.

"Yes, not a well-known fact, that. I never heard anyone call him anything
other than Stettler McKay unless it was Maria and it just close
friends. So, you hot little thing, what do think about your uncle writing,
um, sorry dear, what do you call our genre? Historical Bodice Ripping?"

"Historical Fiction, Babs. And be careful, dear. Remember how many of your
pseudonyms I know...?" She gives me the 'you wouldn't dare' look. "So,
Larry, have you ever read anything by Aaro--"

"Oh, my, Larry! I almost forgot to ask, have you read any of Stettler's
work. His, um, historical stuff is really fascinating." Babs is glaring at
me fiercely. That she writes gay romance wouldn't be shocking, but
gay-slave-bondage romance? With marvellously-sculpted sex scenes?
Yepper. That's our girl!

"Actually, I just started. It's really, um, well-written for..." He turned
to me with a raised eyebrow, "Historical
Something-that-definitely-does-NOT-start-with-R-or-rhyme-with-dance? I'm
sure I got that right." Babs is having fits.

"Careful Young'un. I have explicit authority to whoop your bottom if you
get outta line."

"Ooo! Did you get that from one of my plots, Stettler? How deLIGHTful!"

"Babs, I swear, you get more cantankerous every single year."

"Don't you know it, honey. Anyway, Larry, what could possibly have gotten
an innocent young thing like you shipped off to Siberia complete with
growling bear?"

Larry chuckled. "I am, well, I *was* a student at U of Miami. A friend
tagged me on a Facebook post in a picture where I was holding a, uh,
special cigarette? My parents decided that I had obviously become a drunk
and a dope fiend (their actual words) and who knew what all else. So, with
a month and a half to go on the semester, I find my a-- myself on a plane
to Upstate New York. Ja-- Stettler has been really... really good for me."
His voice goes tender. "And I think we're, well, sorta helping each
other. He's even letting me proofread his pages."

Yikes. Okay, misstep for Logan. Babs pounces like a bird on a
beetle. "Really? How FAScinating. Stettler, how nice to see you're finally
opening up. I don't recall anyone outside your publisher reading your work
before it shipped in my life."

"Now, you know I used Jenny Froom for, well, forever! Turns out that
Larry's mother is an English teacher--"

"ESL. English as a Second Language, though now they're supposed to call it
English as an Additional Language or ESOL, which I can't recall what it
means. Sorry, Ja-- Stettler. I shouldn't have interrupted." He looks down
sheepishly but gives me a wink that Babs can't see."

"Oh, honey. Interrupting Stettler McKay when he's in pundit mode is the
only way to survive! I recall once in Berlin when we were on the subject of
sexual mores in--"

"Um, AARON, I was going to asked about the new book. Isn't it called--"

"So, Larry, it's really luck Stettler found you. He is a very talented
author as well as a," hit hard for effect, "Good and Loyal and DISCREET
Friend to so many of us in the, um, Historical Fiction world. I'm sure
you're a great proofer."

"Actually, Babs, he is. He even does consistency checks. Forward *and*
back."

"Really?" Logan now has her undivided attention. Consistency, especially
across titles, has never been her strong suit. "Larry, honey, sorry for the
teasing. That's just me. So, um, have you thought of doing proofreading,
you know, professionally?"

I cut in before he can respond. "An interesting idea, Babs, *after* he
finishes school. And before you ask, no, I am *certain* he would not like
to 'practice' on your next few novels for free." Babs' lips vanish in a
tight line. Across the decades rings a line, 'Curses! Foiled again!'

"Actually, I might like that if I think about it." Babs perks up
immediately. "I can't start school again until the spring semester. And she
is a friend, Stettler. And I've only been editing your stuff for, well,
three weeks now and it might be good for me to try with a different
author." I stare at him and, BAM, it hits me. Reinforce the Larry timeline
and give him actual chops, and with one of the great gossips in the
community. Fucking brilliant, kid. I grab his shoulder and smile.

"That might not be a bad idea, son. And it might get your parents off your
back, to show them you're talented and putting your time to good use." Babs
is now over the moon. She freezes suddenly. I smile with a hunch what's
she's going to say.

"Um, actually, the one I have in the works right now and need h-help with
might, um, not be suitable?"

Logan smiles slowly. "I think, Babs, that you're worried I might be shocked
by, let's say, 'racy' material? Maybe under the name Stettler keep
desperately trying to drop on you? I'm only 18, but I grew up in the age of
internet porn. I'm pretty sure you can't shock me."

I mutter loudly, "Don't be too sure!" and Babs sends me a look that could
freeze the heart of a publisher -- if it could find a heart of a publisher.

"If it freaks me out, I promise to tell you and leave the offer open for
your next one. But I'm pretty sure it won't." The rest of the meal is light
chatter, all three of us extremely satisfied with how things might work
out. Babs gets free proofing, Logan and I get several added layers of
security. We pour Babs into a cab around nine and head upstairs.

I wait for the door of the room to close before I pull Logan in a deep and
powerful kiss. "My, God, Logan. You are a wonder. God, I love you!" I kiss
him so much he can't answer until he laughingly pushes me away.

"It was fun, you know, with Babs. I really like her Stet-- damn, Jacob. I
now see why you get so worried about the Logan/Larry thing. This is HARD."

"You played it perfectly. And you're right. Proofing for her is
brilliant. I will make sure she pays you -- no, don't object. There's a
good reason -- and we'll let her take care of telling everyone how
brilliant LARRY, her new and very inexpensive proofer is. She'll be
swimming in JB as every plies her for your name *and your background*. In
three months, most of the circle will know your whole (often invented by
Babs) life story!"

"But why take money? I don't understand."

"Several reasons. Because Larry needs a bank account, and then a credit
card. To get either, Larry needs and income, preferably with checks written
by reputable companies and people to Larry Mallory. Because it makes Larry
more real.

"But mostly because authors are not known for generosity. Free things tend
to be worth every penny, but cheap things are worth a fortune. AND the 'I'm
only 18' bit will make it even more realistic. They won't expect to pay
much and they'll be brutal on pushback. Nothing could be better if you're
going to school for anything n Language arts. Hey, by the way. I never
asked. What *do* you want to major in?"

"What? Why? What?"

"Because you WILL be going to college, Logan. Or at least Larry will
be. Did you take the SAT when you were in school?"

"Um, Jake, you're moving really fast. Really, *really* fast. Jake, I was
stoned out of my mind for almost all of high school! I was lucky to get a
diploma! Yeah, I sat for the SATs but I don't even know what the scores
were. And they wouldn't count! Not if I'm Larry. Don't be crazy, Jake. I
mean, slow down, please?"

"Oh, Logan. I'm so sorry. I just don't *want* to slow down. I want to be in
a place that you are absolutely safe, and I want it to happen
yesterday. I'm sorry, but it's hard for me too." I went back to kissing
him, this time soft and gentle, pulling him with me to the couch.  We coo
and cuddle, Logan slowly stripping me more and more.

He gets more passionate, more aggressive. He has me panting. I feel his
hand on my sex and I moan into his hair; he's kissing my neck right
then. "Logan? Logan, stop for a minute. Logan, please?"

He's flushed when he looks up at me. "Make it quick, Jake."

"That's the problem, Logan. It's not going to be quick. Don't take this as
a challenge, but I'm thrice your age. It just isn't going to work
tonight. I can't keep up with you, son. I just can't. Especially after a
night drinking with Babs. I love what you're doing, but--"

"Then shut up." Logan started to kiss my chest, this time licking around my
nipples. He knows what that does and I moan deeply. I'm nearly hard for him
and he smiles and purrs into my tit, making me giggle. He moves down again
and begins to nibble and flick his tongue over the smooth, soft patch of
belly to either side of my treasure trail.

He pulls back and I moan, then groan as he continues to lever me to my own
feet. He pulls me into the bedroom and strips the remnants of my
clothes. Logan lays me gently back and strips himself in a few short
movements. His body is on mine now and I feel his powerful, virile erection
against my slightly-flagging manhood. I am holding back tears as even his
erotic touch and his wondrous scent are not enough to bring me back to full
erection.

"I-I'm so, so sorry, Logan. It, It's not g-g-gonna work tonight."

He brings a hand over my mouth and says, "I think it's working just fine,
Jake. What, you think making love is about making you cum? Or that you have
to cum every time I do? Stop being stupid and put your hands on me. Touch
me, lover."

He dives in for an interminable kiss. I let my hands rove his back, chest,
thighs, a-a-a-assssssss. I suck in a shuddering breath as he purrs from the
touch. I start to caress and fondle his ass cheeks, letting my fingers
occasionally brush into that forbidden crack. His hands are locked on my
nipples now, with something between a tease and squeeze that is driving me
insane. Worse, his mouth is making love to the area below my ear.

I hear a whimper, another, a whine. All from my own chest. Logan hunches
against me, sometimes to one side of my thick but flaccid cock and then to
the other. I let one hand all the way into his crack and he cries out
softly, then starts to hunch with real urgency as my fingers find the
delicate folds of his nether entrance. I let my other hand join the dark
and mysterious party and whisper. "God, Logan, I love you. I love you. I
love you."

That, apparently, is the magic word. Logan throws his head back and
explodes between us. I look up at a young god, lithe muscles locked in
ecstasy. I can see every cord of his neck, every ripple of his chest and
shoulder, and every single muscle is straining to contribute to his
release. My belly-fur is flooded with his discharge, and I probably feel
hotter, sexier, manlier and... more satisfied in this moment than I've been
in years. Would I rather I was cumming with my virile lover? Sure. But the
sheer bliss in his exultant face is far more-powerful and fulfilling than a
dozen orgasms to me.

<eof>

If you want to get mail notifying you of new postings or give me ANY
feedback that could make me a better author, e-mail me at
orson.cadell@gmail.com

Active storelines, all at www.nifty.org/nifty/gay...
Canvas Hell: 29 chapters .../camping/canvas-hell/
Beaux Thibodaux: 21 chapters .../adult-youth/beaux-thibodaux/
The Heathens: 22 chapters .../historical/the-heathens/
Lake Desolation: 15 chapters .../rural/lake-desolation/
Shark Reef: 8 chapters .../adult-youth/shark-reef/
Culberhouse Rules: 5 chapters .../incest/culberhouse-rules/
Raven's Claw: 3 chapters .../authoritarian/ravens-claw/

Special collaboration with Brad Borris: In God's Love (5 installments)
.../incest/in-gods-love/