Open Sesame

By: Hank Horne
(© 2018-2019 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 36

Monday was pretty much what one might call a ‘normal day’ around the ‘ranch.’  Maji and I met with Scotty after lunch to determine the numbers for the first three days of the Club’s operation.  With all the freebies, I didn’t expect much, but Sunday when we started charging for food and drinks, we did well meeting expenses.  It seems that we have priced our menu fairly and would be operating at a ‘break-even’ level.  The tips the dancers made would be theirs, and they were ecstatic about the boon they received for their work.  They had met earlier with Scotty and agreed that each would share 10% of his tips with the DJ of the night, because he was as important to the performances as they were.  That made me extremely proud of those guys. 

Maji was working on the first of his ‘private’ videos with two of the Security guys.  It was a ‘no-holds-barred’ wrestling match.  He was using two floor cameras run by his production staff.  A third camera was suspended from the ceiling and remotely controlled from the director’s booth.  The two wrestlers were wearing posing briefs, and by agreement, there would be no nudity nor overt sex involved.  We were waiting until Majid, Dildar and Hassan’s naturalization process was completed so there couldn’t be any screw-ups with the government’s using that as an excuse for denying citizenship.

The two wrestlers are about six-foot and weigh about 200 pounds of solid muscle.  And for their size, they are extremely agile.  This also keeps them sharp as bouncers at the club, if that ever becomes necessary.  Mostly they’re there as “eye candy.”  It was a hot match, and they both were going for the submission.  Each camera fed into a separate recording unit, both video and audio, so Maji could edit it all together later.  The guys were pretty much equally matched, and they wrestled for twenty-five minutes before one could get a submission hold that his opponent could not power out of.  Both men were sweating profusely and looked tired at the end of the round. 

Maji got on the intercom between the control room and the studio.  “You want to go for two out of three rounds?”

“Sure, why not?” the winner answered.

“Well, take a break and see you in five minutes,” Maji told them.

The winner flashed a birdie, and the loser hollered, “Fuck you!”

The two cameramen hollered to the wrestlers, “We’ll hold him down for you!” and then laughed.

Then Maji clarified, “Okay, make it tomorrow at the same time.  Same gear, but a light sheen of oil all over your bodies to simulate sweat -- or fifteen minutes of push-ups in the steam room.”

“How about just a jock strap for tomorrow?” one of the wrestlers asked.

“Not now.  We’re starting out conservative with these and will take it a step at the time for the next few months.  The ball grabs and ‘Father Nelsons’ are suggestive enough early on, with the nipple torture and bulge biting.”

I spoke into the intercom to the guys in the studio, “It looked great in here, guys.  You worked really hard through the entire match, and I’ve already messed up the control room with what I’ll have to clean up now.  Thanks a lot!  {Laughter from the studio at my sarcasm} Tomorrow, some fist and elbow blows will add some excitement to the brutality.  I loved the leg scissors with faces buried in the crotch, especially when you used your teeth to extricate yourself.  Nice close-up – it was hot!”

“Thanks, Grant!” the four men said.

* * * * *

It was about 8:00 when I went over to the Club.  I got a Disaronno fruit punch to nurse for the evening and took a booth to watch everything going on.  There were about twenty-five guests, plus the architects who were there every night.  Howie walked in a little later, spotted me and came over and sat opposite me.  He looked exhausted. 

“Have a good time today?” I asked.

“I am worn out!” 

A barback approached our booth and asked if we needed anything from the bar.

Howie said, “I’ll have what he’s having – but make it a double!”

“Yes, sir,” he said, punching the order into his hand-held pad.  He looked at me, and I shook my head.

“Thanks,” I replied.  “So, Juana kept you busy, huh?”

“I feel like I have walked all over Atlanta today.   And all of it underground.  It was interesting.  I came.  I saw.  I didn’t bother to conquer.  It’s a once in a lifetime experience.  We came back topside for dinner at a nice restaurant.  The steak was excellent, perfectly cooked.  The wine was spot on.  Then we headed back here.”

“And that was it?”

“Well, not quite.”  By this time, Howie’s drink was served. 

“You’re leaving something out,” I chided him.

He took a sip of his Disaronno.  “Hmm, good!  Juana drove us to a nice, secluded area and offered some additional, close up and personal attention.  Was she supposed to do that?”

“That was her choice.  She must have wanted you to thoroughly enjoy your day,” I responded.  “Don’t stop now.  What happened?”

“Grant.  I do not kiss-and-tell!  What occurs in her car – stays in her car.”

“So, she kissed you and you kissed her back.”

“I did not say that.”

“Then she went deeper than just a friendly kiss.”

“Grant!”

“Then she rubbed her hands over your chest and started to unbutton your shirt.”

“NO! (Pause) Yes.”

“She worked her way down to the belt line and found something that stimulated her curiosity, forced into a vertical position and needing — shall I say — release from the confines of pants that were being stretched — and maybe some other kind of release?”

“Do you have all the cars wired for video as well as audio?” Howie asked.

“Really, Howie? You think I was born yesterday?  Come on, now.  I’m an adult man and I’ve been on a few dates and parked in a car with beautiful women – and men.  I know the routine.  I’ve been around the world too.”

“Any port in a storm, swabbie!”

“Then you reached over to check out the generous Hispanic boobs. And found them extremely desirable.”

“Enough already!”

“What did she say when you went for the lower extremities?”

“She refused to let me go there.  Said she was wearing alligator jaws which would bite my finger, or anything else off if I tried,” Howie said.

I raised an eyebrow and laughed.  “Oh, that’s a good one.  I haven’t heard that before.”

“That’s what she said.  Then she unzipped me and went down on me, all the way first try!  Damn! She’s good. She edged me for at least fifteen minutes.  I was about to lose my mind.”

“Good for her!”

“And when she did let me come, she took everything I had in me down the throat.”

“So, she satisfied you?” I asked.

“Is this what I can expect for the rest of the week?” Howie inquired.

“It’s entirely up to the girl what she wants to do.  I just asked them to take a day to keep you company, so you wouldn’t wander aimlessly alone.  I thought you might like that, and the girl who will drive you around will not work the diner that evening, so you’ll have all the time you need.  You may want some of our industrial strength vitamins before bedtime and tomorrow morning.  You need your stamina, Stud-Horse!”

“Fuck you!”

“Oooh, make my night!”

“I’m outta here!”

“Rest well!  Love you, cuz!”

He signed, ‘I Love You’ as he turned to leave.

* * * * *

The rest of the week was mostly like Monday, and by Saturday night, the crowd at the Club was amazing.  The bar crowd was profitable, and the diner was busy, mostly between 7:00 and 9:00. Then those customers came down to the Club.  We got a half-dozen reservations for The Lodge that weekend, and several dozen for the weekends through December.   Howie had a similar story with each of the girls’ taking him to Nirvana every evening for the entire week.  They were all wearing their ‘alligator jaws’ each day, and they all totally satisfied him using the fellatio method. 

One of our drivers, Gerhard, took Howie and me to Hartsfield International for his flight back to D.C. We sat in the back and had some quality time together, the first since moving from Chevy Chase.

“We haven’t had much time together this past week, but I hope you’re totally drained,” I commented.

“Always a way with the words!” He replied.  “It’s been a great experience, and one I needed bad.  I hope you’ll let me come back occasionally.”

“You know all you have to do is book a flight and let me know when to pick you up.  We might even put a sign on the door, ‘Howie’s Room.’” 

“I wouldn’t put you past it.”

“Anything for you, cuz.  I’ll even lend you one of my Bikinis for the pool, if you’re ashamed of anybody making comparisons,” I teased.

“You wouldn’t remember, but there was a time when the ‘M’ in YMCA actually stood for ‘men.’  And swim lessons were in the nude.  So were swim classes at Maryland when the Cole Field House was first operational.  You only wore jock-straps for diving.”

“I’m glad I did not have to endure that when I was at College Park.  I’d have had a hard-on in every class,” I replied.

“I heard that guys who signed up for swimming the first semester the Field House was open, nobody could take the course because the pool sprang a leak, and everybody got credit for the swimming but also the class they actually took.” 

“You’re kidding!  They actually gave credit for it without taking it?”

Howie nodded.  “That’s what I heard.”

“You hear anything from your ex?”

“Yeah, I hear from her occasionally.  Her dad is thoroughly pissed with her and he’d like to kill me, I think,” he answered.  “She still needs to grow up.  But that’s fine that we separated, I’ve found where I can come when I need some intense relief.”

“Anytime.  Mi casa, su casa.”

“While we’re on that subject,” Howie started.  The girls are not all girl, are they?” 

I just looked at him, concerned where he was going with this.  “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.  I’m not totally clueless.  Those girls were as good at taking me to Nirvana as Majid was last year.  No girl gives that good a blow job.  Level with me, Grant.  Please!  I didn’t think you would lie to me about their being transgender….”

“I didn’t lie to you.  Maybe some political deception, but they are not transgender, as such.  They are hermaphrodites.  They were born with both male and female parts.”

“You’re shittin’ me!”

I shook my head, ‘no.’ 

“What do they do, tuck it between their legs in their panties?”

I nodded my head, ‘yes.’  “Probably.  Next time you visit down here, you can try it for yourself.  I promise.  No alligators or crocodiles to stop you.  I’m sure they would enjoy your attention, with your attributes.” 

“Have you tried it yet?” Howie asked.

Again, I shook my head.  “Nope, not yet.  Sometime next year maybe.   You want a full report on the results of my survey?”

“Hell, no!” Howie exclaimed.  “I want to conduct my own survey.”

We both laughed.  “Go for it, stud!” I told him.

“Grant, there’s one thing in particular that I noticed this week – well, actually since you’ve been back from Iraq.”

“And that is?” I asked.

“Your relationship with Dad.  You still refer to Mom as ‘Aunt Millie,’ but you’ve dropped the ‘Uncle’ when you mention Dad.  Did something happen over there to change how you feel toward him?”

“Chip off the old block, huh?  You get right to the point, don’t you?”

“And I think you mentioned that you learned about his relationship with Uncle Craig then.”

I nodded my head.

“Did Dad come on to you in Bagdad?”

“Howie, you’ve heard me say many times that what happens in the basement stays in the basement.  Well, what happened in Bagdad stayed in Bagdad.”

“I thought so.”

“I really didn’t have much choice if I wanted some help from his office on getting the guys over here.  And by the same token, I would have something to remind him of when I need his help.”

“That’s the political game we are part of,” Howie said.  “It sucks!”

I smiled and nodded my head to his observation.  “Well put, cuz!”

We arrived at the airport and Gerhard got Howie’s cases from the trunk.  We said our good-byes with a hug, and I rode back home up front, where I could get a much better view of the hunk who was one of our automotive mechanics.  

“Gerhard, I’m glad I have this opportunity to know you better.  Do you prefer to speak German or English?”

“I am comfortable with either, Sir.”

“So am I.  And the “Sir” formality is for when outsiders are around.  I’m ‘Grant’ when we’re ‘one on one.’  I hope you’ll be comfortable with that.”

“Zat is very generous of you – Grant.”

“The only name I don’t want anyone to call me is ‘ass-hole,’ unless you want to use mine.”

Gerhard glanced at me and burst out laughing.  “I’ll remember zat.  You can call me ‘ass-hole’ venever you vant to use mine too.”  He continued laughing. 

“What does the name ‘Gerhard’ mean?”

“I don’t know,” he replied.

“What, Jamal?  Oh! ‘strength of the spear.’ Thank you.”

“You ver talking mit Jamal?” Gerhard asked.

“Yes, I stay in constant communication with Jamal and Majid does the same with Arman.”

“He said my name means ‘strength of zee spear?’”

“Yes.  We’ll have to find out how strong your spear is.”

Gerhard laughed again.  “I sink your spear is strong too.  You sink it all zee way in my ass-hole and fill my inside mit your cum?”

“That’s the idea, stud!”

“I like zat!”

The conversation kept going all the way back to the ranch.  ‘Maji and I will have to get Gerhard in bed with us soon!  I’m about to lose a load now!’ I thought.

To be continued... 

Posted: 03/08/19