Jerry

By: Will B
(© 2009 by the author)
Ably Assisted by Ed

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

"Joe, this may come as a surprise, but I want us to be more than just friends, too."

"You mean…?

"Yup!  I mean just what I think you mean," Curt said with a smile, adjusting the tent in his trousers.

 Chapter 17

Felipe’s Unfortunate Incident in the Dining Room

J. Worthington Howells, III, had checked into the Souchard Hotel for two days of rest, relaxation, and maybe some adventures. He was forty-eight with jet black-hair (that had come out of a bottle), and his once-studly body was beginning to show some signs of flab.

Back home, in his home state in the heart-land of middle-class conservative America, he was an official in an extremely conservative political party. He was on the committee to ‘Keep the Defense of Marriage Act.’ He attended a church which did not allow women to serve on the governing board or even teach Sunday School. He was vocal in protesting any legislation that would protect the rights of gays, legal immigrants, or Native Americans.

Oh, yes, my friends, he was a true-blue, red-blooded WASP (white Anglo-Saxon protestant), whose ancestors had come over on the Mayflower (Massachusetts), the Susan Constant (Virginia) and the Ark and the Dove (Maryland).

‘My Gawd,’ he thought to himself. ‘I needed this break from the rat-race; I’m going to enjoy myself these two days.’

He unpacked his suitcase and hung up his clothes and set up his lap-top. He opened up his photo-album of twinks. These twinks were engaged in a number of highly diverting activities. Howells took off his clothes, put a towel on the bed, lay back, and watched the pictures move across the screen. As the pictures progressed, Howells began to tweak his own nipples, and then he moved one hand down to his organ of pleasure.  As drops of a pearly white substance made their appearance, he put it on his fingers and licked them clean.

As his rocket engines prepared for a blast off, his hand moved faster and faster until, at last, his heavy body was lifted into space.  As he drifted back to earth, he thought, ‘I’m gonna get me some action today, or bust!’

He got up, showered, put on a pair of shorts and some flip-flops and went down to the patio, overlooking the beach where a number of hot-looking guys were swimming, sun-bathing, or going to some secluded dune for some other type of exercise.

‘Naw, those guys are a little too old for me. I want some fresh meat!’

Howells went over to the snack bar and ordered a sandwich and a soda. He noticed the young man who served him. Felipe, an eighteen-year-old Latino stud, was tall and hot-looking. He wore a tee-shirt, slacks, and sandals, but even with a tee-shirt on, Howells could see that he had good muscle definition, and he had a pair of nips that were pressing against the material of the shirt. Howells noted a delectable looking bulge below the young man’s waist.

‘Man, I could have fun with that hottie!’ he mused. ‘I wonder what he’d look like if I had him in my room, playing with his goodies?’

“Will there be anything else, Sir,” Felipe asked. He had noticed Howells staring at him, and he was a little uncomfortable.

“What? Oh, no. Thank you,” Howells replied. He paid for his food, and left a ten-dollar tip—for a lunch that only cost six dollars.  He got up, went back to his room, and thought about the best way to approach the stud.

That night there were so many guests for dinner, that Sam had asked Adrian if he and Felipe and Ike could help serve. Among those supping at the Souchard were some of the construction workers, who had been building the residence, and Yussuf (‘Joe’) Hazmar, Sheriff of San Francisco County, who had come out to meet with Bruce and Chad to discuss plans for the young men’s education.

 The dinner was delicious, and all of the servers went about their tasks efficiently. Towards the end of the meal, Howells saw Felipe passing near his table and beckoned him over.

“Yes, Sir, can I get you something?” Felipe asked.

Howells casually laid his hand on Felipe’s arm. “Look, young fellow, I’ve been watching you and how you carry yourself. You have a nice personality and a winning smile. I think you could make some money as a model. I’m an agent for a photographer who’s always looking for new talent. When you get off duty, would you want to come up to my room, and I can show you some pictures of the kind of work I do, and perhaps take a few pictures of you to send to my boss. I’d gladly pay you for your time.”

Felipe had not ‘been born yesterday.’ “Oh, no, Sir. Thank you, but I can’t. We’re not permitted…,” he said.

“Listen, I said I’d make it well worth your while. Maybe we could have a little ‘fun’ while you’re in my room.’

“No, thank you… Please, Sir, let go of my arm.”

“Listen, my friend, if you come to my room, I’ll give you…one of the best blow jobs you’ve ever had.”

Felipe was now petrified. He could have pulled away, but he didn’t want to cause a scene.  Fortunately, Ike noticed what was happening and went to the kitchen to tell Sam and Adrian what was going on.

Sam and Adrian each picked up a knife, which they carried in a semi-concealed manner, and walked into the dining room.

“Let the kid go!” Sam said quietly.

“Why, why, I wasn’t do-doing anything wrong. I was ju-just offering him a job,” Howells sputtered.

“Let him go, now!” Adrian said as he let Howells see the knife he was carrying.

“Why, this is outrageous. I’ll have you know, I am very good friends with the Sheriff of this county. I’ll file charges of attempted assault, I’ll…”

“Good. The Sheriff just happens to be here this evening. I’ll call him over,” Sam said. He went to where the sheriff was sitting with Bruce and Chad and Trace and Jerry, and all five followed Sam.

“Here’s your very good friend, the Sheriff, Sir. Do want to file charges now?” Sam asked.

“Now look, Sheriff, I can explain. I was just offering this young man a job and he took it the wrong way. I didn’t mean anything unlawulful by offer...”

“Is that so?” said Sheriff Joe. “Is that right, Felipe?”

“No, Sir. He wanted to show me some pictures, and take my picture, and he offered to give me a … a …. blow…”

“That’s all right, Felipe. I don’t think you have to say anything more,” said the Sheriff.

Trace looked at Howells and said, “I think you would be more comfortable at some other hotel, Sir. We’ll go up to your room and you can pack your bags and leave. There’ll be no charge for the hours you have occupied the room.”

“No, no, that’s all right. I can pack my own things,” Howells said, trying to remember if he had left his lap top open and running.

“No, Sir. I insist on going with you,” said Trace. “We want to make sure that none of the Hotel’s towels get mixed up with your luggage.”

“I’ll come with you,” said the Sheriff.

The three of them went to Howells’ room, and sure enough he had left the picture show on his computer running, but the screen was black. Trace tapped the keyboard and the pictures reappeared.

“Sheriff, come here,” Trace said. “Some of these guys look a little young, barely legal, I should think.”

Howells was now sweating profusely. His face was red, and he was breathing heavily. “Sheriff, that’s personal. I don’t think….”

“No, Mr. Howells, you didn’t think. I see you definitely have some pictures of underage children here…. And here are some links to some other web sites…and by golly; here are some e-mails you have exchanged with some of the other lads you were trying to recruit as…er…models.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Howells was now almost crying. Sweat was pouring off his face and a rank smell filled the air, almost as if he had peed his pants. “What’s going to happen to me?”

“Mr. Howells, I think I’m just going to let you go.”

“WHAT!” exploded Trace and Jerry together.

“Oh, thank you, thank you, Sheriff. I’ll just get my belongings and leave.”

“Not so fast, Mr. Howells. You are certainly free to leave, but I am impounding this computer. I’ll give you a receipt for it, but if I ever hear of any threats made against Mr. McKenzie, the Hotel or young Felipe, I will personally hold you responsible, and I will release the contents of this computer to every newspaper in your home state. Is… that…perfectly… clear?”

“Now get out of here.”

Trace had the last word.  “Mr. Howells, I will let you take this towel with you. Seems as if you’ve been using it while you’ve been pleasuring yourself, and I don’t want any reminders of you in my hotel.

After Howells had departed, the Sheriff, Trace, and Jerry looked at Felipe. “Are you OK, son?” asked the Sheriff.

“Me, why sure! I wasn’t scared, I figured I could take him out; I could knock him from here to….” Felipe stopped and looked a little sheepish. “Oh, yeah, to tell the truth, Sheriff Joe, I was scared as anything. Thank God, Ike got Sam and Adrian….”

Back in the dining room, Sam said to Adrian, “I know you guard those knives like they were the crown jewels. Would you have really used that knife on that guy?”

“Naw,” said Adrian, “I would have handed the knife to you, and then decked him with my bare hands. Ain’t nobody gonna mess with my home boy!”

Lap Dance in the Playroom.

After dinner all the guests were told there would be a special dance. Trace invited all those who might want to be ‘bottoms’ for the evening to go to one of the locker room where they were told to strip and put on a thong. Each thong was a different color—red, green, blue, purple, white, orange, black.

Those who were to be the ‘tops’ were escorted to another locker room where they too were told to strip, put their clothes in a locker and put on a thong. These thongs were the same colors as those given to the first group.

When all were appropriately thonged, the first group was led to an area behind a curtain. The second group was led to the seats in the playroom.

Jake, with his red hair, green eyes, and fiery bush, came out in front of the curtain wearing a multicolored thong. The thong covered but did not hide his studly package.

“Gentlemen,” said Jake, “I’m going to sing a song, and the curtains will open and your dance partners will be standing there. As I call a color, the gentleman in the audience wearing that color will come forward and claim his partner. Now a word of caution. No thongs should be removed, at least not while I am singing. Once I have left the stage, you can make up your own minds what to do.”

In a pleasing tenor voice Jake began to sing “Save the Last Dance for me,” (but he had modified the words a little). As he started to sing, the curtains opened and there stood the guys who would soon meet their lap-partners.

“You can dance
Every dance with the guy who gives you the eye
Let him hold you tight…”

Jake called out “Red!” and a tall slender twenty-something guy with a red thong went to the stage and selected his partner—a forty-something body builder, who came forward smiling. The younger guy grabbed his partner, and in an Apache style dance step, pulled him to the chair, pretended to slap his partner around and then sat down, pulled the body builder onto his lap, and sat there making grinding motions with his torso. The audience applauded.

 

“You can smile
Every smile for the guy who'd like to treat you right
'Neath the pale moonlight…”

“Blue!” came the order. From the audience a fifty-year-old-man who was just a little pudgy went forward and claimed his partner, a thirty-year-old with a well developed body that seemed to be smooth and hairless. The fifty-year-old guy took his partner, twirled him around, and then took him into a waltz position and swung him around to his seat where they sat, laughing.  There was more applause.

“But don't forget who's takin you home
And in who's arms you're gonna be
Oh, darlin' save the LAP DANCE  for me!”

“Greens!” This couple met and did the bunny hop back to the seats. The two guys were both about thirty, and even before they sat down, they looked at each other and something seemed to click. There was still more applause.

“Oh I know
That the music's fine like sparklin' wine
Go and have your fun.”

When Jake called “Purple,” the couple did a conga-line type dance back to their seats. Applause and cheering.

“Dance and sing
But while we're apart don't give your heart to anyone
And don't forget who's takin' you home.”

And so it went. As Jake called a color, the couple would meet and do some kind of fancy step back to their seats. One man whispered to his partner, "I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.”

His partner replied, “Yep. How about us getting together when this is over?”

“Great. Your room or mine?”

“How about right here, if the lights go out, as I hear they do?”

“And in who's arms you're gonna be
Oh, darlin', save the  LAP DANCE  for me.”

“You can dance
Go and carry on till the night is gone
And it's time to go”

“OK, Reds and Blues change partners!” Jake called. There were some cries of “No!” but change they did.

“If he asks
If you're all alone, can he take you home
You must tell him NO!”

 

“Greens and purples change!”

“And don't forget who's takin' you home
And in who's arms you're gonna be
Oh, darlin', save the LAP DANCE for me
And don't forget who's takin' you home
And in who's arms you're gonna be
Oh, darlin', save the LAST DANCE for me!”

Jake finished, took a bow and kissed his hands and threw the kisses to the audience, who gave him a warm round of applause. As he left the stage, the lights dimmed, and there were some other activities ‘starting to commence to begin.’ You can just imagine!

Bruce and Chad ‘once more, with feeling.’

“Chad, come here, quick!” Bruce called to his partner.

“What’s up, my love?”

“Look at this email from Tickiestories. They’re going to post our story next week. Oh, I’m so excited, I could just….”

“OK, Bruce. Let me help you just….”

Of course this happiness led to hugging, and the hugging led to kissing; the kissing led to heavier kissing, and the heavier kissing led to…..

To be continued…

NOTE: Bruce and Chad’s story will be published next week as part of Jerry's Story, Chapter 18.

E’s comments:  Howells got what he deserved.  Somehow I don’t think that we’ve heard the last of that bigot.  Poor Felipe, but what did Adrian mean by calling Felipe his home boy?  I’ve never heard of a lap dance.  I guess I need to go to the Souchard Hotel and investigate.  I hope Chad and Bruce’s story doesn’t burn and crash like some of mine.  Gotta go, it’s bedtime.

Posted: 10/16/09