Open Sesame

By: Hank Horne
(© 2018 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

HHorne@tickiestories.us

Chapter 14

Greta and I were invited to the Staunton’s’ for Christmas Dinner, along with our three Iraqi guests.  We had gifts for each of them, with one gift for the family from Majid, Dildar and Hassan.  Greta and I took gifts for Howie and Krissy, but they decided to spend the day with her family in Annapolis.  Cal told me that they were supposed to be here, but Howie apparently succumbed to her cajoling, as husbands frequently do when subjected to constant whining – just to make it stop!  We left the gifts there for them to get later.

Howie called the next day and asked if he could come over.  He brought each of us two Everett Hall neckties and his apologies for not being with us the day before.  Krissy was getting more and more whiny about getting her way.  He said that this morning she asked if all of us were “queer fags.”  He said he blew up at her for her lack of common concern and at least trying to understand people who might be different from her.  She has no real consideration for people of different ethnic background, religion, beliefs, or raised in a different environment, and could not understand how Howie would associate with those who are so different from him.  

“I told her…” Howie said, “… ‘it’s part of being a human being and caring for other human beings.  There are differences in beliefs between Anglicans, Baptists, Catholics, Lutherans, Methodists and Presbyterians.  But all are Christians.  You and I were raised in different churches, but we can still be in love and want to be with each other.  There’s a difference in loving really good friends as friends, as a brother or sister, and being “in love” with someone.  I happen to be in love with you, Krissy, but Grant and I have been like brothers or cousins or best friends for all our lives, and I love him in a different way.  He loves me in a different way than he would love someone he wants to marry and spend the rest of his life with.’ 

“Grant, I’m sorry to prattle on like this, but not being with you all yesterday really has gotten to me.  Give me a hug – just don’t try to kiss me – at least not on the lips or try to ram your tongue down my throat.  I might have to beat the shit out of you.”

“If I tried that, I would deserve the beating.”

“Majid, I have never had a blow-job that could compare with the one you gave me.  Girls just don’t give it the way a gay man does – not even professional girls.”

“Howie, it was a pleasure to give you the satisfaction you deserve,” Maji replied.  “Anytime you need another one, I dare say any of us would be very glad to make themselves available.  Hug? Same conditions?”

“Just whistle ‘Dixie’ to get his attention,” I said, and I thought Maji would choke on laughter.

Just then, a car pulled into the driveway and stopped.  A man got out, and I realized it was Jim Guthrie.  ‘Oh, shit!’ I thought.  I met him at the door as he rang the bell.

“When I said ‘call,’ I meant the telephone.  You didn’t have to drive all the way over here.”

“I want to apologize for my behavior the other night,” Jim started.

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to – I’m not the one you tried to rape with your tongue,” I countered.  “You need to face Howard for your assault on him.”

“I thought you might express my regrets to him.”

“You can express your regrets to him personally.  He’s inside.  Do come in.”

The look on Jim’s face was priceless.  He looked like the teenager caught by his mother in the final throws of ejaculation.  He stepped inside, and I closed the door, so he couldn’t run.

Howie came into the foyer, looking like he was ready for a full-fledged fight.

Jim stuck out his hand, ready to shake Howie’s, and ruefully said, “Staunton, please accept my apology for my actions the other night.  You had every right to beat my ass, and I’m ready to take my punishment.”

“Well, Guthrie, I’ll take that option at my choosing the time and place, and when you least expect it,” Howie said in his most professional tone.  “And I’ll take it NOW!” he said as he raised his right fist, then hooked his left fist direct on its target, Jim’s jaw.  Jim landed on his back on the floor, a dazed look on his face, not comprehending what had happened.

I leaned over Jim and told him, “Mid-South Golden Gloves light-heavyweight champion, two years in a row.”

Howie reached out his hand, asking, “Can I help you up?”

“Geshehellwayfrome,” Jim slurred his response.  “Isueyouorevershingyougot.”

“And what led up to it will all come out in court, including your part in the party the other night.  You really want to expose all that?  I don’t think so.  So now we’re even — unless you want to try to improve on the blowjob Majid gave me.  If you want to do that, just whistle “Dixie” and I’ll drop-trou — just for you.”

“Fuku!”

“That’s not part of the deal.  Just a B.J. will be very adequate, while I fuck your face,” Howie told him, then walked back into the living room.

“Sonofabish!  Heffeuf, Gah.”  Jim put out his hand for some help, which I gave him.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and you can rest up a bit in one of our guest rooms.”  I helped him up the stairs and into the room next to Dildar and Hassan.  I got a first aid kit and cleaned him up, then gave him some Tylenol and put him to bed.  “I’ll see you later and maybe you’ll feel like some supper with us – even some chicken soup.”  I kissed him on the forehead and left him alone.

About 5:30 that evening, I went back in to check on Jim.  He was starting to wake up, so I lay down on the bed with him.  “How’s my big ole studly patient this evening?” I asked.

“I have a terrible headache and my jaw is as sore as it can be.  And my coccyx hurts too.  Can I be your baby and you take care of me the way I want you to?”

“At least you still have a sense of humor.  Do you feel like coming down for some supper or do you want me to bring some soup up here for you?”

“Would you feed it to me if you brought it up here?” he asked.

“Could you suck me off as a bribe?”

“No, but could I bribe you to suck me off?”

“No, not a chance today.  It’s soup here or downstairs.  Which is it, wussie?”

“Shit!  If I’m not going to get the treatment I desperately need, I’ll just come downstairs.  How long?”

I stood and headed out the door.  “Fifteen minutes – now.  And be properly dressed – for Greta’s sake – please!” 

* * * * *

Then came New Year’s Eve.  Greta and Robbie were going to the party at the Deaf Club in Washington, so the four of us decided we would go bar-hopping in downtown.  No, I’m not stupid enough to take my SUV and park it on the street or on a lot in downtown D.C.  So, I called the limo service I have used and got one of their drivers to pick us up at the house about 8:30 p.m. so we’d get to The Eagle around nine o’clock.  I told the driver to pick us up at 1:00 a.m. 

We got in as the dancers were starting to perform in their little cubicles.  The other three guys were developing a taste for some alcohol flavors, such as rum based drinks.  I was considering ordering either a Hurricane or a Brass Monkey and introduce them to some vodka.  It was a cold night outside, so I decided to start with hot buttered rum for all of us but told the waiter to go easy on the other guys’ rum since they were not used to alcohol.  I gave him a fifty-dollar tip to take care of us.  I told the guys to nurse their drinks because I would not order more than every forty-five minutes to an hour as the night went on. 

The dancers were very good, many of them acrobats and gymnasts but also regular dancers doing their gyrations to current pop songs.  One really cool element of their dancing was they danced nude – and I mean totally nude, except for a cock-ring.  They started their routine clothed in a costume of sorts, going through the stripping portion to a variety of bikinis, thongs, G-strings, and then those came off for the last half of their twenty-minute performance.  As the evening went by, I noticed a pattern of switching dancers.  Four new dancers would come out from backstage and start their dance every fifteen minutes, starting on the hour.  The new guys would be fully clothed while the previous dancers were totally naked – and some were hard from customers playing with them when giving them tips.  Then the newer group would be to their naked stage at ten minutes into the performance, so five minutes later a new quartet would appear.  I liked the idea very much and called it to the attention of my buddies.  We would do something like that at the Crystal Rainbow – when we find a place that allows completely nude dancing.

The four of us spent over a hundred dollars each on tips to the dancers.  There were also dancers on the tables who were patrons wanting to make some money.  They would get up close and personal but could not be completely naked.

The New Year arrived and we all had champagne provided by the club.  Some patrons came in costumes; we all had party hats and noise makers, and “Auld Lang Syne.”  Everybody in the place shared kisses with the other patrons.  All the dancers were in their spot, totally naked, shaking their bootie and anything else that would wiggle.  They all broke the rules and let the customers get closer than normal.  I told my guys to watch my stunt.  I went to one of the hottest, best built, muscle-dancers, who was a blond. I put a twenty in my mouth, turned around and lay backwards on his part of the stage.  He came to me, lowered himself over my face and picked up the money with his “lower cheeks.”  I got a round of applause for my show.  Then, one at a time, Maji, Hassan and Dildar did the same thing with three other dancers.  After that others copied what we had done. 

At five ‘til one I herded my crew outside to the limo as it pulled up at the front door.  The tab for the limo was on my credit card, so I gave the driver a very nice gratuity for getting us to and from, safely.

To be continued... 

Posted:10/26/18