This is a work of fiction. Names of characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously; any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locations is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2015 by Dennis Milholland – All rights reserved. Other than for private, not-for-profit use, no part of this work may be reproduced, transmitted or stored in any form or by any means, other than that intended by the author, without written permission from the copyright holder.

Careful! This is a work of fiction containing graphic descriptions of sex between males and critiques of religion and governments. And last but not least, Nifty would like your donations.

Farewell, Uncle Ho

by Dennis Milholland

questions and comments are welcome. www.milholland.eu / dennis@milholland.eu

Chapter 20 (Mon., Dec 26, 1966)

When we got to the hotel to pick up my belongings, there was an NYPD patrol car out front. The thought of a suicide, murder, hotel theft crossed my mind, but I was totally taken aback to find out that the policeman had been looking for me. The desk clerk pointed at me as we entered and added: "Hey, no dogs." which I took as his wink to the cop that he, the desk clerk, was a stickler for law and order.

"Who's Benton Loughery?" I signaled by raising an index finger. "Got any identification?" I got out my wallet and handed him my folded driver's license. "Can't read this."

"My name is at the top of the card and my picture is to the right of center, combine the two." I suggested with just a pinch of sarcasm.

"You a doctor?" He looked at me in disbelief, and I nodded for verification. "Where was this issued, and why is it pink?"

"You'll have to ask the French authorities why they choose to issue driver's licenses in pink." My patience was running low. "And I think the place it was issued is under number six."

"Paris?" He was beginning to get the drift. "That Paris, France?" He handed me back the license, when I nodded, again. "You don't look French."

That got a laugh from the desk clerk, which got the clerk a glare from the cop. I sighed. "Can you, please, tell me what you want?"

He read from a typewritten page. "We have a complaint against you 'cause a lewd and lascivious behavior on the 25th of December toward one Brian Khan."

"That's ridiculous." I stated cautiously. "I'm a business associate of his father's for whom I did some translating related to a property sale to a Chinese family from Hong Kong--"

"--you speak Chinese?" The cop prophylactically glared at the desk clerk.

"Obviously." I was now straining to be polite. "Why don't you phone Mr. Khan, or his lawyer, Dr. Marvin Brandstifter, to confirm that I had no interaction with Brian Khan, whatsoever, on the 25th of December. As far as I know, he's been away from his father's house for several days, now, including the day before the 25th." I gave him Bat's card and crossed my fingers.

The policeman got hold of Bat on the second ring, who verified what I'd said. Lon who was, without a doubt, behind this, could expect some serious trouble coming down the pike in his direction, if I knew Bat as well as I thought I did. The policeman, on the other hand, was willing to let go of the complaint. "Sorry to have troubled you, Dr. Loughery." He touched his uniform cap and left.

As I motioned to Haruki to follow me to the elevator, the desk clerk yelled: "No dogs!"

And as eloquently as I knew how, befitting my standing as someone with a PhD in modern philology, I said: "Fuck you."

***

Having retrieved my bags from the hotel room, in the company of Barney the Beagle, we returned to the lobby. The clerk was just this side of a major seizure. "God damn it, Chink, I told you no dogs!"

Since it had been a trying week, and my patience with Caucasians was rapidly waning, I grabbed the clerk by his shirt collar and backhanded him across the muzzle, knocking his dentures for a loop across the counter. And in my newly discovered talent of projecting in a loud, deep bark, I said: "I told you to fuck off!"

He was fast to recover his teeth, but he knew when he'd lost. "Are you checking out?"

"Why, do you want me to?" I stared him down until he flinched and moved to the cash drawer.

He handed me twelve dollars. "I would appreciate it." When I counted it, he added: "I only charged you three dollars for the one night."

My glare was not friendly. "Yeah, but I paid you until the tenth of January."

Either it had been an honest mistake, or the guy was ready for Broadway. "Oh, shit, I'm sorry." and he quickly counted out another fifteen.

Out on the street, Haruki and Barney were both looking somewhat threatened. "You certainly have changed since high school. What happened?"

I stopped and must have looked a little bit down, since the way I had acted toward the desk clerk, wasn't something that I would have approved of in someone else. "Should I look for somewhere else to stay?"

He waved his hand as if to cancel the thought. "No, no." He chuckled a little stiffly. "Don't get me wrong, but back in high school you were, well, not, um, as forceful."

I laughed. "You thought I was a pansy?"

"Yeah, that too." He laughed along with me. "Just until about two minutes ago, I was worried about you getting hurt in the Army." He shook his open right hand, as if to signal that something was too hot to touch. "But now, I'm sure you'll be just fine."

We crossed over to the hanging tree to let Barney have a whizz and a crap, and walked through the park a little returning to Haruki's house on Washington Place. I set down my two cases in the entry and watched as Barney returned to his spot in the kitchen without his leash and without being told. Haruki put some dry dog food in his bowl and refreshed his water. The thought that they only had each other made me misty. It was the fate of so many New Yorkers and their dogs.

I went over to give them both a pat, of course Haruki's pat was a little more specific. "You hungry?" I was thinking about where we could go, since it was still a holiday as I sat down. Christmas was on Sunday so everything was still closed today. He nodded and I thought that something nice would be in order. "How about the Le Chanteclair?" When he looked blank, I added: "Across from Sachs."

"That would mean getting dressed up and trudging through the snow." His enthusiasm was simply not there. "How about if I make us a pizza for lunch?"

"Okay, but I would like to do something special for you," I tried to put this on a lighter note to not make him feel guilty for not wanting to go out. "since you saved me from the Earle."

He came to where I was sitting at the kitchen table and hugged me from behind. "Believe me," Barney also looked up. "you really are doing something special just by being here."

At this moment, it dawned on me, and I stood up to really hug him. "I just remembered that you're Catholic, aren't you? And you spent Christmas alone with Barney, didn't you?" Silently, I considered myself lucky that I didn't have any religious holidays to worry about, family or no. But, only having been able to surmise how much it must have hurt, like Marv and his lonesome Chanukah, I took him into a close hug like Bat had done for me, with my right hand rubbing his back and his head cradled in my left. This is an immensely soothing way to be able to let go. And when I wondered: "Your folks didn't even call you, did they?" he lost it. And so did Barney. I didn't know that hounds could sound so forlorn.

***

Instead of pizza, Haruki made us sandwiches, and again either the bread was from an up-market bakery, or he'd baked it himself. "Uh, just a question--"

"--ask anything you want." He smiled his breathtaking smile with a smudge of mustard on his lips that were begging me to lick them clean.

"Do you bake your own bread?" The question sounded silly or even trite, once it was out.

He beamed. "You're the first to ever notice."

If I had known how that silly little question would brighten his day, I would have commented on the cookies. So, I did. "And those hazelnut cookies were way too good to have come from a bakery."

His breathtaking smile became even bigger; his handsome face went beet red. "You know what?" He didn't wait for an answer. "The only regret I have about high school, is that we didn't get together despite my parents."

"Yeah, and your dad would have caught us coming out of the Earle." I burst into laughter at the thought.

"Can I ask you something?" He'd squelched his laughter, and somehow I knew that this was going to be important.

"Ask away." Barney stretched, yawned and sneaked toward the table in hopes of scoring leftovers.

"Do you have a problem with the fact that I'm a virgin?" Again, he turned as scarlet as anyone of Japanese-Cuban lineage could get.

"Why on Earth would I have a problem with that?" I paused to give it some thought. "Although, I find it just slightly unbelievable, since you've always had girls hanging on you like coconuts on a palm tree."

He took another bite of his sandwich, chewed twice and washed it down before he spoke. "Uh, it's hard to explain and I can't tell you why, but I always felt comfortable around girls, and have no problem making out with them, but, to tell you the truth: pussy scares the daylights out of me."

I damned nearly choked on my last bit of sandwich, part of which fell to the floor, and Barney was on it like a cold sweat. "Never heard of pussophobia before. Generally, you either like it or you don't. Like I don't. But it doesn't scare me."

"The only way that I have ever fantasized about penetrative sex is..." He looked away and got up to put our plates in the dishwasher.

"Is what, Haruki?" I finished my can of Rheingold. "Don't just leave me dangling."

"Promise you won't get mad?" The door of the dishwasher clicked shut.

"Promise." I chuckled.

"I only ever wanted to screw your ass." The sentence came out as if it were one word. This must have cost him enormous effort.

"That can be arranged." I smiled, stood up and held out my arms.

"You would let me do that to you?" I nodded, and he seemed flabbergasted. "But you're so masculine and, and ..."

"Aggressive?" I helped him out.

"Yeah," He tittered and managed to stand back and actually look at me. "but I just can't imagine you being the woman."

"Whoa, stop right there, Little Buddy." I lifted him and inch or so off his feet and brought his face up to mine; he was feather light. "We'll be two men fucking. There's no woman involved. I don't have boobies, and I certainly don't have a cunt. I've got an asshole that you're more than welcome to fuck. But I can't give you kids and I don't suffer from any period shit. It's a butt fuck, okay?"

We were virtually rubbing noses, and he kissed me, and not innocently by any means. This guy could kiss. And I wasn't going to let him weasel out by playing the straight card. We were going to fuck. Now. "Have you got some Crisco?"

He shook his head in disgust. "No, I use creamery butter."

"Is it salted?" This could get tricky, I thought.

"Of course, not." He looked almost insulted.

"Is it in the icebox?"

He shook his head again, laughed once and went to the pantry and pulled out a large, dark green earthenware pot. "I keep it submersed with a silver spoon in cold water." I glared at this, but if this hocus-pocus made his cookies taste that good, who was I to criticize it?

"Could you put about a tablespoon of it into a coffee mug?" His brow was knitted. "It's to get us lubricated, so we don't hurt one another. You're circumcised, so you won't have enough natural lube." The penny dropped. "And please bring a roll of paper towels."

I let him go up ahead of me and my bags, since I had no idea of where he wanted us. He went into the large front bedroom, which had its own bath. I got out my utensils and placed them into the washbasin. As I undressed him, he whispered for me to be gentle with him. I promised and undressed myself.

Holding his hand, I led him into the bathroom. I filled the enema bag and put in the usual dose of glycerin. Haruki watched with wide eyes, but asked nothing. I inserted the nozzle and let the warmth fill me. He smiled and asked me softly to do the same to him. I did and told him to hold it for as long as he could. Of course, I had to relieve the pressure first, but he wasn't that far behind me.

The shower that followed was warm and soothing. He asked me if he could touch my cock. The formality made me chuckle, when I realized that he didn't know what to do with my skin. I showed him how to gently retract it and rinse the glans with water only, no soap. He gasped as I rinsed his, and he almost swooned when I lathered between his buns.

We dried and I took him immediately to bed. I knew from my own experience that if I sucked him he wouldn't get the climax inside me that he'd been dreaming about, for who knows how long. The first time is always on a short fuse. I dipped my finger into the butter and put a good amount in and around my hole, then Haruki was no longer the teenager, I remembered from Phys-Ed class. His cock was that of a full-grown man, heavy, thickly veined, long and pulsating with each excited heartbeat.

As I positioned myself onto my back with my legs lifted, he positioned the head of his pole at my pucker. I was amazed at his gentleness, and he lasted longer than I'd anticipated. His orgasm didn't cum with loud growls and expletives, his breathing caught for a second and he purred with satisfaction, as he collapsed onto my chest.