Jack Scribe
Warning: The following story may contain graphic descriptions of sex between consenting adult males. If you are underage or do not wish to read such material, or if reading this sort of material is illegal in your jurisdiction, then read no further. This multipart story is primarily about romance and relationships between men. Any reference to actual persons, living or dead, is only to enhance the fictional nature of the story and does not suggest a particular sexual orientation.
A special acknowledgement to David from the Lakeview area of Chicago and Brad from Denver for providing diligent proofing and editing of the story, to Carey for being a patient teacher, and to Drew for helping to expand my boundaries.
If you have any comments or suggestions for the author, feel free to write me at jack.scribe@gmail.com. I love feedback. Support Nifty!
Part 5, BIRTHDAY IN NEW YORK AND OTHER PLACES
The American Airlines 757 left O'Hare on time at 5:15 pm. I hated the Friday early evening commute crowd returning to New York. It was almost like they were re-awakening their snarled, hostile demeanor and defenses to create a game face for a return to the Big Apple. Most people thought Chicago was a small New York. Wrong. Chicago was like a very large Kansas City. No one could match the warm openness of a Midwesterner.
Matt had booked me into the Omni Berkshire Place at 52nd and Madison Avenue. Apparently he had acquired a roommate at the company condo that made my visit too crowded. I liked the Omni and used it fairly often. We had a good corporate rate and it only cost me $89.00 per weekend night. And it was only a block away from the "'21" Club, where the birthday dinner would be held Saturday night.
Adjusting for the one-hour time difference, I figured that I should be out of La Guardia airport and at the hotel by 9:00 p.m. Because of the crushing traffic around the airport, we agreed to meet in the Atrium lounge off the hotel lobby for a reunion libation. I hadn't seen him for over a month. Like riding a bicycle, we used to fall into step personally and physically. But I couldn't read this new chapter with clarity. Our phone conversations certainly didn't have the usual spark of the past. I wondered if I needed training wheels?
After the captain leveled off at 35,000 feet, I closed my eyes and thought about the evening last Sunday with Sammy. Replaying our activities in the bedroom brought a smile.
Wasting no time with the preliminaries, we were sans clothing and in each other's arms, feeling hearts beating rapidly. "I've been waiting for this all weekend, big guy," he hoarsely whispered before nibbling tenderly on my nipples with his teeth. Both cocks were wide-awake.
"I'm a man of my word," I said, nodding affirmatively, that signaled my agreement to be fucked. He broke out the McDonald grin. "But I'm going to hold you to your word. Go easy. It's been a long time since this has happened."
Moving over to my crotch, he leaned down and licked my hard, hot, leaking member from tip to base. "I'll take it slow and gentle. This has to be good for both of us," Sammy huskily spoke. Then he moved lower, tonguing my scrotum and perineum as he stroked my dripping cock. Using a free arm, I grabbed the lube and Trojan and placed them nearby on the bed.
"You'll notice that the new ones are without color," I commented with a dreamy smile. Sammy returned it in kind, before his thumb found the puckered target. Massaging around the wrinkly edges, I felt the beginning of a more serious entry. "Oh fuck, yeah. Warm me up," I moaned as he started a circular motion with his thumb. Sammy pulled out, reached for the lube, and moistened the cute hard red cock and his fingers.
Putting on the rubber, he said, "I'm going to use my fingers until you feel comfortable." With a wink, he wetted my cock as he inserted the middle finger slowly and started exploring my dormant hole. Rotating and probing, the second and third fingers were inserted to widen the circumference.
"Ohhh," I moaned, as he passed over my prostate. "Mmmm."
"Jerry, are you okay?" he asked, with the fingers frozen from any further movement.
"Babe, that was a nice hurt. You touched me right where it counts. I want you inside me," I demanded quietly, with a smile.
"Meaning the other me? The one without any fingerprints?"
"Yeah, that one," I responded in a rough whisper, as he brought my legs up and pressed them against my shoulders. I could feel the coolness of the Astroglide being applied and soon felt the hot head of his willing dick knocking at my door. Without much flexibility, I wiggled a signal that all systems were go.
Slowly he started entry, one centimeter at a time. "Man, what a hot feeling," he said pushing further.
When he was half way home, I growled, "Come on in, fucker, I'm ready to take what you got." With that, he pushed in until I could feel his pubes against me. The slight burning sensation was replaced by a satisfying fullness. "Ahhh..."
Like a piston motor, he started moving back and forward, speeding up with each plunge. After long-dicking, he would jab small, deep incisions, seeking out my pleasure button. "Oh, shit, do you...oh, Christ...babe, ahhh, this is...fuck..." Sammy uttered, as he was slamming away.
I wrapped my legs around his waist to give me some control and movement. I was meeting his thrusts in a counteraction to drive him deeper and move in unison. I could feel my nuts tightening as an early warning alert that the final moment was at hand. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum, I..." I heard bells in the distance. Bells? Bells I didn't recognize...
"Ladies and Gentlemen. The Captain has turned on the seat belt sign. We will be landing at New York La Guardia in 15 minutes. Kindly bring your seats to an upright position and stow the tables into the seat in front of you."
I slowly opened my eyes, and I looked around to adjust myself to the surroundings I had mentally left an hour earlier. Looking down, I noticed a tenting of my crotch, as did the older, well-dressed woman next to me. I sheepishly smiled while scooting up in the seat to be a little less obvious.
"That must have been a helluva dream," she said with a wink.
"Yeah. A helluva dream." I felt the blood rushing to my face.
"Whoever Sammy is, must be pretty enticing," she added.
Buckling the seat belt above the obvious bulge, I said, "Enticing is hardly the word I'd use." I looked at her with a sheepish smile, knowing that my face was crimson.
"Well, whatever the case, I hope this Samantha knows you dream about her." I smiled and didn't add anything else, as we landed moments later. When deplaning, we wished each other well and went our separate ways.
Because of the black tie clothing, I had to check baggage, which delayed the usual carry-on only departure from the airport. Luckily, there was a cab available for the drive into Manhattan. The driver was able to navigate over the 59th Street Bridge and get me to the hotel in record time. I was at the front desk checking in just moments before nine. The baggage would be taken to my room by a bellman so that I could join Matt at the bar.
There he was, I observed without his realizing my presence, sitting at a corner table with his cocktail of choice, a Cosmopolitan. Urbane was the best description of Matt. About the same height as I, he had a distinctive, 'Anglo' appearance, with his light brown hair, blue eyes, aristocratic nose, and chiseled cheeks. Even in the Brooks Brothers sear-sucker jacket, open-colored shirt and linen pants, there was a regal image he projected. Nothing to suggest that he was from Des Moines, and his folks were schoolteachers. Matt had worked hard to create this image, while moving successfully upward through the corporate ranks.
Walking up behind him, I reached down and hugged. "Hey, buddy, long time." I felt Matt suddenly stiffen at my touch and voice.
He turned and smiled. Getting up, he lightly kissed me on the cheek and said, "Hey, yourself. Join me in a drink?"
I moved over and returned his kiss on the lips. 'What the fuck,' I reasoned, 'This is New York.' "Yeah, great." He pulled away in reaction and gave me a concerned look. I dismissed his actions, because Matt never was too demonstrative in public. 'But then,' I thought, 'I'm not either.' This was a first. I sat down and absently grabbed a few cashews from the dish as the waitress came over. Looking up, I pointed and ordered, "The same with Ketel One Citron."
"It's been a busy month at the office. The old guard is getting antsy about my proposals. However, the bosses are very pleased at what's happening." Matt's expression was very intensive and serious.
"I'm glad for you. This should be great for your career back at Burnett when you return." Just then my Cosmo arrived. Taking a sip, I continued, "Still returning November 10th?"
"Well, Jerry, there have been complications to the job," he replied earnestly.
"Complications? What are you talking about?" I questioned, with a raised eyebrow.
"I've been offered a Senior Vice President position here. Saatchi and Saatchi is really the parent company. It's hard to turn down," he stated as a matter of fact.
"Turn down. What the fuck are you talking about. Your home is in Chicago," I said a little too loud.
"Hey, chill. Just hear me out. I've made some decisions about my...our...lives and the future. Things have changed for me since spring."
"Us...changes...what gives Matt?" I said in alarm, seeing red flags rising in my mind.
"The long and short of it; I'm going to accept the position here in New York."
"And what about us? Our home? Our dreams?" I looked anxiously at him for answers.
"You and I are the victims of separation. Timing is shitty. But my heart just isn't into Chicago anymore or..."
"Me?" I stared incredulously.
"Yeah. That's the most difficult part. I don't want to hurt you." He looked at me with big, round eyes.
"Not hurting me. Bullshit. You're destroying whatever we have left in our lives together. Jesus, Matt. What fucking nonsense are you talking about?"
"Jerry, lower your voice." I did notice a few cold stares from the other guests.
"Okay. Let's lay it out. Who is he?" I asked accusingly, in lower tones.
"There is no 'he' in the equation. And that's the strangest part. Jerry, I'm going to marry the most wonderful woman. Don't ask me how it happened. But she's everything that I could want to build a home and career with." He studied my changing expressions from challenge, to anger, to hesitation, and finally, to complete bewilderment.
"You've switched gears and have suddenly become a loving hetero? I don't buy that for a moment, Mr. Bottom Boy." The anger was starting to perk again.
"You don't need to call me names. The fact is, she can be great help in my career. And she doesn't require a lot of sex."
"I don't know what to say. This is an overload," I muttered, hanging my head down and staring at the silly carpet pattern. Looking back at him, I concluded, "I just don't know what the fuck to say about this grenade you've tossed." Part of me was thinking, with irony, of the years he had his legs up in the air receiving my hard maleness.
"I know you don't want to know about her. Maybe at another time you will meet her. Tonight, I wanted to tell you what I've decided. Jerry, I'll always love you. A different love. I hope that you can find room in your life for me in this new relationship...as an old friend."
In more measured tones, I replied, "Old friends don't put knives in the backs of their loved ones, Matt." I decided not to go into further emotional overdrive right now. "Don't worry, I'm not going to go into a bitchy fit. I'm more in shock right now. That you could say 'goodbye' to three years without looking back. Wow. Just, wow."
"My position becomes official in September and..."
"Jesus, I should have seen this coming..." I said to the table.
"...We need to figure out when I can get my things out of your house." He had brought his car to New York last spring.
"Actually, it's mostly clothes and personal effects, plus your pictures and PC. I'll have them packed and sent to you. You can arrange for payment at this end." I really didn't want him back in the house at this point. 'Need to change the locks and security code,' I noted mentally.
"Probably makes sense. You don't mind doing this for me?"
'Matt. You've just shit on me big time, blowing off our partnership, and I'm really not thinking too clearly. It's going to take some time. But I don't want you back in the house. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to take my drink and go to the room. Give me a chance to sort it all out."
"I know you're pissed. But I want us to be friends," he said urgently.
"Pissed? Yeah, very pissed and very confused. Friends?" I added in a sarcastic, subtle manner, "Maybe you'll name your first born male after me?"
"No, it occurs to me that it's a very bad idea. She won't allow it," Matt replied. We both stood and stared at each other. He offered a hand that I ignored.
"Better take those little blue pills, pal," I concluded, leaving the table to make my way over to the elevators.
'Holy fuck,' I reasoned. 'Was I mad or relieved? A little of both.' The elevator arrived, and, while day dreaming, I mechanically went through the motions and soon found myself in the room. Seeing that my belongings had been properly stored away, I finished the cocktail, removed my traveling clothes, and immediately crashed in the turned-down king bed. While considering Matt's revelation tonight, I was thinking of Sammy entering me as I drifted away.
Saturday morning in New York in a bed by myself. "Uhhh," I yawned out loud, while familiarizing myself with the room. After taking care of a morning whiz, I padded to the door to retrieve the New York Times outside. I looked first to make sure that no one was around to see me in the buff. It was 9:00 a.m. First things first: I called Room Service and ordered the ubiquitous "Continental" Breakfast and a large pot of coffee. Knowing the general timing of service, I stepped in the bathroom for a quick shower. I wouldn't shave until this evening.
I heard a knock on the door while I was toweling down. Reaching for a robe, I put it on and went to the door. My mind conjured up fantasy visions of some hot stud as the waiter. Opening the door, I was a little disappointed to find an older, Hispanic, uniformed man holding the tray. I motioned him in. After the waiter placed the tray on the desk, I signed the bill and thanked him.
For the next hour, I leisurely tried to read the "Times" while having breakfast. Last night's final meeting kept playing in my mind. This new relationship of Matt's had obviously been building for a while. Twelve hours later and of more rational mind and emotion, I analyzed what had happened. Matt has always been a supreme political player in his Chicago office. This was one of the reasons he ended up in New York on this plum temporary assignment.
I reasoned that this senior VP job offer came with the challenge and old adage that if you can make it in New York, you can make it anywhere. That he could walk away from our partnership to advance his career was quite revealing. I wondered at what point this woman would be discarded? 'There's more than tall corn grown in Iowa,' I mused.
As I poured the fourth cup of coffee, the telephone rang. 'Oh shit, I worried. 'Is this my former lover calling?' "Hello?" I answered apprehensively.
~~~ "Hey, birthday boy, welcome to the Big Apple."
"Ben, good morning. When are you and the family coming into the city?"
~~~ "Mom and Megan came into town last night." The Martin family had a large, four-bedroom co-op on Sutton Place overlooking the East River that was used as a secondary family home.
"I'm really looking forward to this evening. There's been a change in the guest list, however."
~~~ "Yes, Matt said something came up, and he wouldn't be able to make it."
"Matt already called you? What did he say?"
~~~ "Just that he had been called out of town for a client meeting with P & G in Cincinnati. Some kind of emergency."
"Hmmm. Yeah, you could say he had an emergency come up. Ben, is there a possibility that we could have a quiet lunch somewhere? I need your friendship and advice."
~~~ "Jerry, I get the feeling that something's not kosher between you two."
"Definitely not kosher. The term 'us' doesn't apply to Matt and me any longer."
~~~ "Holy fuck. You guys have a fight?"
"Naw. A fight I can handle. Comes with the territory. He's dumped me."
~~~ "Shit man, I'm sorry. What say we meet for lunch at the Athletic Club around one in the Grill? I'm going over there soon for a workout, steam and massage."
"Okay. I'll meet you at 1:00 p.m. I've got lots of shit to sort out. Bye."
New York, like Chicago, is a great city for walking around. After getting dressed, I left the hotel and wandered up Madison Avenue and window-shopped the various stores. At 59th, I turned west and went over to Fifth Avenue. With the silhouette of the old, stately Plaza Hotel before me, I crossed and started walking west on the same street now designated Central Park South. The New York Athletic Club was two blocks further away with the landmark, gigantic, blue NYAC flag flying out front of the aged, gray, art deco building. Upon arrival, I was cleared at the front desk and directed to the Grill. Waiting for me was Ben.
"Hey, buddy,' I said, approaching the table. Ben stood and we shook hands.
"Great to see you, Jerry. I am bursting with questions. What's happened between you two?" He didn't mask the very grave expression on his face.
"Sit down, and I'll give you my story."
We ordered two beers and split a chef's salad. We toasted with the draft mugs. "Apparently I am a single man," I announced. "Last night Matt told me it was over." I looked at him with a detached stare.
"Oh, God, man. I wouldn't have guessed this at all."
"I've felt a deterioration gradually separating us. I thought it was something we'd work out. His revelations last night really did broadside me."
"Has he found someone else here?"
"Yes. In classic fashion," I replied.
"Classic. What the fuck do you mean?" he said, looking at me with a puzzled expression.
"Well, it seems that Matt has turned heterosexual on me. He's found some woman and has fallen in love...he says." I noticed Ben's shocked look.
"He's found a woman? No way. I'm not an expert, but I do know you just don't switch sides so abruptly."
"You don't without some purpose in mind."
"Purpose? Jeez, I thought you two were a pretty solid couple."
"Not so solid the past four months or so. I guess that distance is to blame somewhat. But I really think Matt is grabbing for promotional straws with his job. I'm pretty sure that the woman will become the professional wife for his career growth. He's taking a Senior VP job here."
"Man. Jerry, I'm sorry. He dumped you just like that?"
"Our telephone conversations and meetings recently were pretty forced. Looking back, I guess neither of us wanted to confront the ugly truth about growing apart. And then he tells me he's getting married? Christ, Ben, give me a break."
"If I had to guess, this decision will come back to bite him in the ass down the road. You okay?"
"Last night, I kinda lost it. But after a night's rest and reflection, I'll figure out how to move on."
"So there will be an obvious one fewer guest tonight? How do you want to play it?"
"Most of the guests are colleagues and friends of you and me. Plus your family. Let's just say that Matt couldn't be here because of a serious illness in the family. Okay?"
"Okay by me. I don't know if people will buy it."
"Fuck, it'll give them something to talk about. But, buddy, I plan on having a good time."
We finished the light lunch and departed. Ben offered to share a cab, but I wanted to walk back. Returning to the hotel, I called back to Chicago. "Hello. Is Sammy home?"
~~~ "Yes he is. Can I say who's calling?"
"George, this is Jerry Franklin calling."
~~~ "Jerry, good to hear from you."
"Good to speak with you, also. Sammy had such a good time at the East Bank Club last weekend, I was curious if he was up for another workout tomorrow?"
~~~ "As a matter of fact, he is now officially a member. Let me get him for you. By the way, Bill Saunders will be calling you soon regarding some possible help Martin Consulting can offer our company."
"Great. I look forward to the opportunity. Good speaking with you." A potential contract? Better keep on George's good side. 'And why did I feel the excitement welling inside at the thought of seeing Bill again?' I wondered..."Sammy, buddy, how are you?"
~~~ "Where are you?" I thought you were out of town until tomorrow?"
"I'm in New York. Just don't tell your Dad. He thinks I'm in town and asking you to work out with me Sunday at East Bank."
~~~ "You still coming back tomorrow afternoon?"
"Actually, I'm returning to Chicago in the morning."
~~~ "What's the flight number? I can pick you up."
"No need, but thanks for offering. I've got my car in short-term parking. Are you free to get together tomorrow afternoon? Say around three?"
~~~ "I've got nothing planned for tomorrow during the day."
"Great. Why don't you pick me up at my house, and we can go to the club together in one car? I could use a light workout and some steam.
~~~ "Good for me. I'll be at on your doorstep around three."
Look forward to seeing you then."
~~~ "Missed you this weekend. See ya tomorrow."
"Until then." I felt at peace, resting the telephone in its cradle. 'I did miss that cute little shit,' I thought, with a smile. 'And the sex that comes along with it.' However, a friendship was what I'd work on. But best not to lead him along as I now had a potential business relationship with his Dad. And then there was Bill to consider.
I called American Airlines immediately. Rearranging my airline reservations was simple. Sunday morning traditionally isn't heavily booked. The reservation for 9:00 a.m. would get me back to the house by 11:30 a.m.
I set a wake-up call for 6 p.m. and attempted, with little success, a pre-party nap. The tension of Matt's actions was still hanging heavily over me. I got up before six and cancelled the wake-up call. Leisurely showering and shaving, I had plenty of time to get pulled together and walk over one block to the legendary '21'. Dressed in Armani black-tie dinner clothes, I departed with minutes to spare.
The evening was an orchestrated success. Ben covered for me, and I was cruising on stored charismatic overdrive during cocktail hour, drinking a 2000 Batard-Montrachet. Cold shrimp, Beluga caviar bilinis, and smoked salmon carved by the captain were a pre-dinner hit. That Matt was not present didn't pose much of a problem. He was someone who had been introduced once or twice to some of my city friends. There were a few questioning glances from some of the wives. The 79 guests filled the tables for 10. The head table was more spacious because of one missing Matt. Throughout the evening, I spent time at each table.
Without me knowing it, Ben had conspired with Mom to get a series of baby and adolescent pictures of me that were blown up and hung around the private Harbor Room. Ben had chosen an elegant menu planned around rack of lamb with a terrific 1989 Chateauneuf du Pape Cote du Rhone from 21's well-stocked cellar. 'Billings at the New York office must also be good this year,' I thought, while mentally calculating the approximate costs of tonight's fete.
Throughout the evening, a string trio played light chamber music. Before dessert, a man came before the microphone and solemnly introduced himself as the master of ceremonies to the guests. He slowly un-shed this façade as the jokes started in almost staccato fashion. In a matter of moments, the entire crowd was laughing wholeheartedly as this professional comedian started roasting me unmercifully. By the time he was finished, tears of laughter were flowing.
After that amazing performance, Ben came before the guests and offered a more traditional birthday salute from one friend to another. Instead of a cake, elaborately decorated, flaming Baked Alaska was served with Roederer Cristal Champagne for toasting.
At the conclusion, I stood at the door and spoke briefly to everyone as they left. After thanking Ben and his family for this terrific dinner and birthday celebration, I walked back to the hotel temporarily satisfied. Between the Burgundies and Champagne, I had no problem sleeping.
With light Sunday traffic, I was at the airport early and had time for a complimentary breakfast at American Airline's Admirals Club. I needed more food than the in-flight bag of pretzel bits. With a third cup of coffee, I absentmindedly flipped through Vanity Fair. Dominic Dunn's monthly column always amused me.
I replayed the events of Saturday. My instincts about the recent telephone calls had been correct. Matt had been playing a different tune I didn't recognize. Now the puzzle was coming together. The one missing piece that I held did not match...yet. Would it? The missing piece was one of the two new arrivals in my life. Sammy. Was there a place for him other than a fuck-buddy and friend? How did he feel about me? Was he too young? Was this just damned foolishness? 'Questions inquiring minds want to know,' I thought, smiling at the well-known tabloid phrase. And then, there was Bill Saunders.
"Mr. Franklin, your flight is ready for boarding."
TO BE CONTINUED