Shifting Sands - 18. Chapter 18 Lullaby Of Broadway

The Trotters had a quiet dinner Thursday, the evening before Spence’s journey east. Spence had made a ‘to do’ list that also included writing Cray and Spike’s cell phone numbers on the kitchen memo board. The previous week’s meeting between the four guys had gone well, although Spence had to leave early because of his ‘job’ schedule; and Kevin’s attitude about his minders had been very positive. He’d told Spence afterwards that ‘the dudes are cool’ and the idea of ‘having two more older gay brothers is pretty neat.’

 

“What’s the dif if they’re straight or gay?” Spence asked, knowing he’d probably get a wiseass answer.

 

Kevin winked and replied, “That way, they won’t be ‘letching’ over my girlfriends.” His acceptance of the arrangement gave Spence peace of mind – being absent for a few days and over 3,000 miles away was a bigger deal than either sibling would admit to the other.

 

Traveling to New York was a big deal; Spence had never been beyond the West Coast or Nevada. He was jazzed that Lou would be showing him around the city, in addition to whatever else his long distance client had in mind. Spence could only imagine that the work portion of the trip would be a replay of what had occurred weeks earlier in Vegas. And that Lou was into satisfying a bed partner, as much as desiring satisfaction, was like hitting a trifecta at a race and sportsbook.

 

The somewhat unusual part of that picture was the way the guy would mix humor, confident aggressiveness and physicality with sex. At one point during their final session, with Spence being on top, Lou had growled with a mischievous leer, “Like Sarah Palin preaches…drill, baby, drill.” He lifted his legs, wrapped them around Spence’s shoulders and said, “And that’s all I’ve gotta say about that dizzy bitch. Now let’s make a gusher.”

 

Mario had booked Spence’s round trip on JetBlue because of the 3:15 arrival time at JFK. And he emphasized that seeing the new JetBlue T5 terminal would be a special treat. Once the Airbus A320departed McCarran, Spence found a magazine in the seat pocket featuring JetBlue’s JFK facilities; in addition to a huge new structure to handle passengers and aircraft, there was a total re-do in progress of the original 1962 space-age TWA terminal that had been designed by the famous architect – Eero Saarinen. The article said the city had designated it as a historic landmark and that the renovation would respect the architect’s vision.

 

For five in-flight hours, with a combination of coffee, Stella Doro Breakfast Treats and a Diet Coke for ‘nourishment’, Spence worked on his laptop and read introductory material for one of his pre-registered UNLV courses. While ignoring the DIRECTV screen buried in the back of the seat in front of him, Spence did note and appreciate the extra legroom the airline had provided for his six-foot frame. They landed at JFK a few minutes early, and he quickly walked through the impressive, stylish terminal with his carry-on bag to find the cabstand. He decided to explore the T5 facilities when he returned on Sunday because the mission at this point was to get his butt into Manhattan and The Pierre. His meter was running, and Spence was sureLou expected his money’s worth.

 

Another meter, while potentially lethal for running up big bucks in most cities, was quiet. Several years ago, a taxi flat rate of $45.00 plus the Midtown Tunnel toll had been established between JFK and Manhattan, giving drivers an incentive to ferry passengers the quickest way to their destination. Abdul, the driver, was reserved in conversation, but made up for it with calculated lane-changes.

 

For a guy whose big town experiences were limited to Seattle and Las Vegas, the vastness and variety of humanity stacked on top of humanity via the thousands of apartments was daunting. And the personality of the neighborhoods varied in vast swings of affluence as they drove along the trash-strewn, eight-lanes of the patched concrete Van Wyck and Long Island Expressways. Old was one word that summarized Spence’s observations. The backside of brick tenement buildings, weary business structures of every form and butt-ugly warehouses – mostly with a grimy patina – gradually gave way to the spectacular sight of the famous towering Manhattan skyline. He spotted the Empire State Building before they merged into the multi-lanes of the tunnel tollbooth and could only imagine where the twin towers of the World Trade Center had been.

 

A few snags of traffic slowed down his yellow cab and Abdul managed to successfully navigate the Manhattan streets without mangling any fenders or scattering maimed bodies along the way. One of the challenges, Spence quickly found out, was the number of capriciously double-parked delivery vans that narrowed several side streets to one lane. Courteous commentary didn’t seem to be part of a New York cabbie’s lexicon, and often a verbal blast was punctuated by a horn blast.

 

Twenty minutes later, after creeping around the rush hour-laden obstacles, Spence was standing in front of The Pierre – no worse for the wear – on legendary Fifth Avenue. Across the bus and cab-clogged street was Central Park. ‘Dorothy’s definitely not in Kansas,’ he thought as he handed the cabbie three-twenties. Spending $60.00 for the cab was another first for Spence. ‘But what the hell, the bucks are reimbursable.’ Abdul grunted with a surly semblance of a friendly nod and inched forward to pick up a dark-suited man, who was frantically waving his arms, at the next corner.

 

Entering the hotel was what Spence imagined Alice felt like going through the keyhole. P.O.S.H. – but not the Spice Girl – plus a little piss elegant opulence, flashed through his mind as he ambled through the ‘Louie the whatever’ décor. Marble, gold leaf, damask wall coverings, painted wainscoting and crystal chandeliers were the backdrops for the smiling, white-gloved, uniformed staff stationed along the way to the lobby area. At the front desk, Spence’s mention of the Gallian name caused the coifed clerk to stand a little taller. She immediately referred to him as Mr. Trotter and, after a profuse welcome, picked up the telephone receiver and announced Mr. Trotter’s arrival.

 

“Someone will be down directly,” she said, with politeness dripping like honey. “Do you have other luggage?”

 

“No, this is a quick trip,” Spence replied, clutching his bag strap. ‘Quick…down and dirty,’ he thought, ‘with the master of the manse.’ But however unique it was to live in a hotel, this elegant place was certainly no mansion. ‘More like a decorator’s idea of a palace. Maybe Lou is here cuz he likes to have his bed made and towels changed every day.’

 

“If you wish, you can sit in the Rotunda. But I’m sure you won’t be waiting long.”

 

“I’ll just stand aside in that case.” Spence moved over to an area out of the way and studied the activity in the lobby. Elegantly dressed women, clicking their high heels on the black-and-white checkered marble, blended with the pin stripe suited men. However, no one raised an eyebrow at his casual combination – a blue blazer, white ribbed tee, 501’s faded in the right places, and black shoes. ‘Fuck ’em’ he thought ‘if they can’t take a joke.’ Just then, two hunky actors who he recognized as stars in The Gossip Girls strolled by clad in low-rise jeans, tailored polos and sneakers, carrying several shopping bags from Tom Ford. With ample skin being shown between their jeans waistband and the tails of their shirts, there was no doubt in Spence’s mind that the boys were in commando mode. He felt more at ease when they all nodded to each other with very friendly eye contact. ‘Hmmm, I wonder…’

 

“Mr. Trotter – Spence,” came a voice from behind.

 

Spence turned and watched as a man with short black hair, wearing a dark suit, approached. Although they were the same six-ish foot height, this stranger in his late 20s appeared to be in seriously good shape. The thick neck, slopping deltoids, and questioning green eyes suggested he should not be ‘messed with’.

 

“I’m Max.” He extended his hand and shook Spence’s. “Lou is running a little behind schedule at the office, and asked me to bring you up to the apartment. He’ll probably be here in about an hour, and I do know that you’ve got dinner reservations at six.”

 

“Swell, I could use a shower anyway.” Spence glanced at his watch and noticed it was only 4:30.

 

“Let me take this.” Max lifted the bag from Spence’s shoulder and started walking. Although he was friendly and polite, there was no question about who was in control.

 

Like an obedient dog, Spence followed behind as they made their way to the elevators. Max took out a key and inserted it in a brass lock located to the side of the center elevator. He turned the key and said, “There’s only one hotel elevator that stops on our floor and we have the only keys can override the security locking system.”

 

“How do the other guests get to their rooms?” This was a new twist that Spence had never encountered.

 

“No problem,” Max replied as the doors slid open. “The Gallians own the 41^st floor.”

 

“Pretty fancy.”

 

“No biggie, really.” Max smiled with a shrug, “The man above us has a triplex…three floors. So we’re just the common folk in this joint.”

 

Spence laughed as they stepped into the elevator and Max pressed his thumb against a small black square of glass embedded into the paneling. Momentarily, the ornate bronze doors closed and the men started their assent.

 

“Seriously, Mr. Gallian and Lou appreciate their privacy and security.”

 

“Mr. Gallian?”

 

“Lou’s father. They both live here…and we make sure they’re safe.”

 

“Yikes, should I be concerned?” This was a new twist to the trip that raised Spence’s antenna. He hadn’t been told that Lou shared this place with his dad, nor that security was a big deal. ‘And it seems a little odd that they share rooms in a hotel.’ He also picked up on the ‘mister’ title being reserved for the father.

 

“There is no shortage of bad guys in this town. Just let us do our job, follow a few simple rules and you’ll be fine.”

 

“Our?”

 

“Gallant Security…one of Mr. Gallian’s companies. We operate pretty much throughout the world.” Max ratcheted up his grin to a full-blown smile and said, “You’ll be in good hands while you’re with us.”

 

“I have no doubt.” Spence was going to add that he appreciated the way Max was making him feel welcome, but decided it might be misconstrued. ‘Don’t want this hunk thinking I’m coming on to him.’

 

“No worries, though. We’re usually within a stone’s throw of Lou…but invisible, unless needed.”

 

“Kinda like the Secret Service?” Spence asked. He wondered if the ‘no worries’ line was meant to be a hint that Max was fully aware of the reason for this visit. ‘Suppose so…but he seems cool with it.’

 

Spence quietly digested this information as the elevator rapidly whisked upward. A soft bell announced their arrival and the doors parted. He followed Max out of the elevator and into a small vestibule. Each side of a closed inner entry featured large abstract paintings hanging above matching consul tables. Spence was sure they were antiques but hadn’t a clue as to the style or period.

 

“This is the last step in our little game of double jeopardy,” Max said as he touched another black glass square. The double door panels in the entry area disappeared into the wall and the apartment was revealed.

 

It seemed to Spence that the large living room before him had popped out of an Architectural Digest page. He said, “Wow,” while scanning the classy surroundings, “the art is something else.” The theme of blending period furniture with modern art that he’d just seen in the vestibule continued into the apartment. ‘Lou’s living in a hotel isn’t at all what I had imagined.’

 

“Once you get settled, feel free to take a look up close,” Max replied as he started walking down the hallway to the right.

 

Again, Spence dutifully followed.

 

“This is Mr. Gallian’s suite,” Max said with a nod to a closed door as they turned at the corner, “and Lou’s suite is just ahead.”

 

“Is Mr. Gallian here?” Spence hadn’t considered the possibility of meeting Lou’s father.

 

“Naw, he’s in L.A. and won’t return until Sunday.” Max looked at Spence and continued, “Also, he’s pretty cool about the way Lou likes to wind down.”

 

‘Wind down.’ Spence decided that was as good a buzzword for fucking as anything.

 

At the end of the hallway, Max stopped and gestured for Spence to walk through an open doorway. A large king bed and bedside chests were situated on one side of the paneled room, and a fireplace with casual seating – a sofa, ottoman and two easy chairs – balanced the other side. Above the fireplace, hung a very large flat screen television.

 

“The door to the right is the closet if you want to hang up anything,” Max said while setting the bag on a bench at the end of the bed, “and the door by the window leads to the head…ah, head means bathroom in Navy-speak…a hangover from my former career. Lou’s den can be reached either through the head or back out to the hallway and to the next door on your left.” He walked up to Spence and extended his hand.

 

When Spence took the offered hand, Max’s alpha grip was gentlemanly, but strong. “Would it be right to assume that you weren’t a deck swabby in the Navy?”

 

“Only swabbing up the enemy…I was a Seal in Iraq number two.”

 

“Then, as you said, I’m in good hands in this big, bad town,” Spence replied.

 

“Count on it.”

 

It was a statement of fact, with no bragging or attitude.

 

“Oh, one more thing. If you need anything, there’s a call button on the bedside chests…either side. Lou wants to make sure you have a terrific time here.” Max released their hands and started towards the door. He turned and said, “A wet bar in the den is pretty well stocked…if you’re thirsty, and there’s plenty of towels stacked next to the shower in the head.” With a smile, Max added, “Just so you know, I’m a pretty good judge of men, and Lou didn’t exaggerate about you one bit.”

 

Spence chuckled and said, “So, do I live up to my advance billing?”

 

“Absolutely. And with my significant other being an associate at the Gallian law firm, we all take care of the family in our own unique ways. Bottom line – you do your job and I do mine.” Max winked and left.

 

After unpacking his meager travel wardrobe, Spence took a long shower and an electric razor touch-up shave in Lou’s monster bathroom. Spence decided his briefs were good for one more sprint – they’d be peeled off again, soon enough, and Lou was into a few musky sniffs. His gray slacks still held a good press. He put on a light blue button-down shirt and a yellow tie, and looked forward to be shown around town.

 

 

 

Lou was determined not to let the curious and cautionary late afternoon conference call ruin his weekend with Spence. He was driven home immediately afterwards and spotted Max as soon as he entered the hotel. As soon as they were alone in the elevator, Lou asked, “I assume our guest arrived?”

 

“Arrived and I assume he’s getting freshened up…although he’s definitely not worse for the wear,” Max replied with a grin. “Ya got good taste, boss. I like the guy.”

 

“Thanks…I think. And I also assume you’ve been briefed on that other topic?” If he weren’t distracted by the conference call concerning security, Lou would have returned the banter with some further comments that bordered on tasteful raunchiness – the type of stuff that trusted friends would say – that usually involved Max’s monogamous relationship.

 

Max nodded and said nothing further. Rule number one was to never discuss sensitive topics in an uncontrolled environment. They continued up to the apartment and went into the kitchen after Max secured the main entry from the vestibule.

 

“We’re in a Code Orange M.O.,” Max said while Lou retrieved a bottle of Evian from the large refrigerator. “Until Mr. Petrov’s people can analyze some satellite chatter they picked up from Moscow, the plan is to be very diligent in protecting Mr. Bromley’s family, your dad in L.A., Mr. Maggiano in Vegas, and you. It’s probably not a big deal…but we’re on it.”

 

“How orange is orange?” Lou asked. “Are Spence and I okay to follow with our itinerary this weekend?” In addition to dinner and theater that evening, Lou planned on showing his ‘companion with benefits’ the MOMA’s permanent collection and sculpture garden on Saturday.

 

“The word is that Vlad has a hard-on for some of his former friends living in London…if you get my drift.”

 

Lou was amused that Max referred to Putin as ‘Vlad.’ The ‘former friends’ were a string of billionaire oligarchs who were no longer in favor with the Kremlin power broker. “What is the esteemed Prime Minister up to now…aside from posing shirtless and pimping Medvedev?”

 

“Not sure…but we’re covering you with a double team just in case it gets intense.
But unless AOI can flesh out anything more concrete, there’s no reason to ‘go to the mattresses’.”

 

Lou smiled at the ex-Navy Seal and the use of the Godfather lingo. “You’re such a drama queen.”

 

“Does that mean that you want me to wear my tiara tonight, sir?”

 

“Right…and long white gloves, and your Vera Wang,” Lou replied with a gotcha smile. “Okay, back to the basics. I’d better say ‘hi’ to Spence and change my shirt. Dinner’s at six?”

 

“Four Seasons in the Pool Room. And pick up at 7:30 to get you to the theater.”

 

“Which means that we need to leave in twenty minutes.” Lou put his hand on Max’s shoulder and squeezed it. “Let’s hope that Oleg’s concern doesn’t mean anything.”

 

The sound coming from Lou’s den was the local TV news. When he arrived at the doorway, Spence was sitting on the leather couch, clicker in hand, watching WNBC 4 News. He looked at Lou with a sizzling smile, turned off the television and stood up.

 

“Welcome to mi casa. It’s great to see you.” Lou opened his arms and watched as Spence walked over. Their bodies connected and Lou lightly kissed Spence’s lips. Lou had been dreaming, almost to an obsession, about this reunion and was reluctant to let go. He felt his groin stirring and decided to pull back before he developed a bad case of pecker tracks.

 

“Likewise,” Spence replied. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again and visiting this town of yours. By the way, this casa of yours is very impressive.”

 

“It’s actually Dad’s place and I’m just his roomie. You’re right about the apartment, but I don’t take it for granted. It’s no secret that our family has taken some big financial hits over this past year…but we’re coming out of it. Fortunately, this place was paid for a long time ago.” Lou leaned in and planted a firmer kiss on Spence’s willing mouth. After their tongues had a chance to reacquaint themselves, he added, “You’re settled in?”

 

“I followed your suggestion and traveled light. Except for a few changes of underwear, tees and a pair of jeans, I’m basically wearing what I brought. I figured that I wouldn’t have to worry too much about clothes.” Spence reached down and moved his hand across Lou’s partial erection lazily hanging over to the left underneath the dark suit pant material. “Are we eating in?” he asked with a snicker.

 

“Maybe that’ll be dessert later on,” Lou replied as he took Spence’s exploring hand and removed it. “Come into the bedroom so we can talk while I change shirts. We gotta leave for the restaurant soon.”

 

They walked through the bathroom and into the bedroom. Lou removed his jacket and tossed it on the bed.

 

“Here, let me help you.” Spence loosened Lou’s tie and slipped it off before unbuttoning the shirt. “Best you do the rest…or I’ll go too far.”

 

“Plenty of time for that when we get back.” Lou took off his shirt and dropped it on a chair as he walked into the closet. “I plan on us fucking our brains out…if that’s okay with you.”

 

“I bought some Trojan condom stock before I left,” Spence said in a loud voice. “I figure they’ll have to increase production after this weekend because of all the replacements you’ll have to buy.”

 

“As long as they’re the ones who make Magnums, you’ll have a nice capital gain.” Lou laughed while he selected another white shirt and a red tie, and then returned to the bedroom. “And you figured right, buddy. The final curtain tonight of Hair is at 10:30…and I plan on us performing lewd acts of homosexual copulation on that bed over there by eleven.”

 

“Such big words, sir.” Spence raised an eyebrow and asked, “Does that, per chance, mean that you’ll be fucking me?”

 

“Yep. But could be the other way around though…or both.” Lou put on the shirt and threaded the red tie under the collar. “Haven’t decided.”

 

“That’s what I like…a man with flexibility.” Spence stepped forward and said, “Allow me.”

 

Lou stood quietly as Spence expertly knotted the tie and slipped it in place. “We’re going to have a great time…and I’m really happy you’re here.” He decided not to make any mention of the heightened security. Max was handling everything and would know when to intervene if there was a cause for alarm. Lou buttoned the collar button and tightened the knot. “Okay, sport. Are you ready for an evening out on the town?”

 

“Ready, willing…and everything that goes with it.”

 

 

 

The intensity of being ‘out on the town’ in New York was almost overwhelming for a boy from Seattle and now, Las ‘fucking’ Vegas. In Seattle, you went downtown; in Vegas it was a trip to the Strip. Here, the vision of a human version of one of those ant colony exhibits came to Spence’s mind. Everyone was in a rush to get to their destination…in the noisiest ways possible, it seemed.

 

Max, and another man in a dark suit who drove the SUV, accompanied them to the restaurant located on the ground floor of a high-rise. While Spence didn’t know anything about the Four Seasons, except that it wasn’t associated with the hotel chain, he was aware of the building where it was located. As an architecture buff, he had admired the Seagram Building that was featured in a book he owned picturing famous structures. The bonus was the location – the Seagram high-rise was across the street from the iconic Lever House, a mid-century building across the boulevard of Park Avenue. And looking south, he could see Grand Central Station.

 

Inside, Lou pointed out the mammoth Picasso wall tapestry on the way to the restaurant. At the entrance, a maitre d’ warmly welcomed Lou and Spence, and personally led them to a table next to a white marble reflecting pool in the center of a spacious, high-ceilinged room. At each corner of the pool perimeter, tall, large trees stood majestically and created a canopied effect. The shimmering scalloped, beaded, metal curtains in the tall windows, appearing to be fabric from a distance, were impressive. Another sight that Spence did not see often was the dress of the guests populating the dining room; all the men wore suits or dark jackets and the women were draped in high-fashion dresses. Before they could order a cocktail, a man who looked familiar came over from a nearby table and greeted Lou.

 

“Senator, a pleasure to see you again,” Lou said while standing up. “Allow me to introduce Mr. Trotter. Spence is an associate, visiting from Las Vegas.”

 

As Spence started to stand, Senator Schumer put up his hand and replied, “Please, no need to get up. I just wanted to say hello to Lou. His father and I have been friends for several years.”

 

“Thank you, Senator. Dad gets back from L.A. on Sunday and I’ll be sure to pass on your regards.”

 

While Lou took this gesture in stride, Spence noted that it was the Senator who came over to their table, not the other way around. ‘I think I’d better do a Google search on this family when I get back,’ he thought as the waiter arrived, ‘and see what’s what.’ Lou ordered a bottle of white wine and no one asked Spence for an I.D. ‘What the hell, I’ll will be 21 in a few months anyway.’ Later, at Lou’s suggestion, they shared a multi-tiered seafood platter for the first course and eased into their main courses – Lou ordered the poached wild salmon and Spence opted for the Maryland crab cakes.

 

Over dinner and the din of muted conversation in the crowded room, Lou told Spence a little more about his family. He momentarily became somber when he mentioned the passing of his mother two years earlier, but abruptly moved on to describe his brother and their tight, brotherly relationship. Richard was three years older, happily married, the father of two boys and a law partner in their dad’s firm. Lou added that the one good thing to come out of his mom’s death was the way he’d become much closer to his father. “Who’d have thought that we’d be bunking together,” he added, “and liking it?”

 

“To be fair, Lou, it can’t be too much of a burden living together in an apartment the size of your place,” Spence said.

 

“Yeah, in this case, size does matter.” Lou took a finishing bite of his salmon and added, “But with you, stud, size would never count…it’s just nice that you do come so well equipped.” To emphasize the point, he clutched Spence’s knee under the cloth-draped table for a moment.

 

“Whatever I could squeeze in for the trip,” Spence replied with a snicker. Because of the restaurant’s atmosphere, he thought making a comment about ‘come’ would be a little tacky. ‘I’m sure cum will be coming all in good time,’ he thought with anticipation. Although he wouldn’t consider this relationship going beyond that of a client friendship, Lou sexually rang his chimes and Spence looked forward to providing the contracted services.

 

They left the restaurant on time and were expertly driven over to the Broadway theater district. While they threaded through traffic, Spence and Lou continued with small talk. However, Spence did notice that Max and the un-named driver did not join in. The friendly, affable Max was now as serious as a hawk on prey.

 

Broadway. The magic of seeing the real great white way was startling to Spence. It made the spectacle of the New York, New York Casino Hotel in Las Vegas mentally shrink into something akin to having been constructed from Lego blocks. Seeing all the cabs and limousines now slowly moving on the streets to discharge the passengers at their respective theaters made Spence understand why Lou had wanted to leave the restaurant on time. Twenty minutes later, the boxy, blue SUV inched to the front of the Hirschfield Theater. Max joined Lou and Spence, and they threaded through the crowd standing under the marquee of the theater until they reached the inner lobby. Lou and Spence were ushered to their 10^th row center seats and Max disappeared into the back of the auditorium.

 

A hoot. That was Spence’s immediate reaction to the musical that originally opened eons ago. ‘I don’t think my mom was more than a baby.’ But it was a treat tripping back to the Age of Aquarius, imagining those earlier times of pot and hippie, communal free love…plus the rebellion against war and society. ‘And all that hair.’

 

As they drove back to the hotel, Spence and Lou reviewed the show. The joint conclusion was Hair and the cast delivered a terrific two hours of entertainment. Each man was familiar with the music from ‘oldies’ radio stations and tried to get through a few verses of Good Morning Sunshine. The famous nude scene was actually very brief and dimly lit. Spence could only assume that seeing a little dick – little, as in the amount oftime exposed – and the simulated sex had been considered very daring over 40 years ago.

 

“And today, anything…I mean, anything…you want to see is on the Internet,” Lou said. “Dad said his eating club at Princeton would occasionally have what they called smokers back in the 60’s. Late at night, someone would set up a 16-millimeter projector in the rec room and they’d show black and white porn films. It used to crack him up to see the guy, usually with a moustache, leave his shoes and socks on while pounding some skank.”

 

“Ewww, remind me not to visit Princeton.”

 

“Never fear. My brother assured me that everything over in Tigerland is now in living color. He’s on the Cap and Gown alumni board and told me he accidentally walked in on a smoker after a meeting a couple of years ago.”

 

“What’d he say?” Spence asked.

 

“To ‘carry on,’ and he then closed the door. I guess my family’s a bunch of porn junkies.”

 

“Yeah, like you and the rest of the world. All I can say is thank God for the Czech Republic.” Spence was a big fan of some of the studs on BelAmi and admired the photography on their website.

 

“And for laughs, there’s all these guys with iPhones taking pictures of their big dicks,” Lou said. “It’ll be interesting when one of them decides to run for public office someday.”

 

“I can just see the campaign website,” Spence replied. “You click on a link to his platform and, voilé…a big boner pops up.”

 

“I could get into that…as long as it’s not Barney Frank.”

 

“You’re bad.” Spence grinned and smirked.

 

“Count on it.”

 

Up on the 41^st floor, after going through the security entry system, Max said ‘goodnight’ and the guys quickly walked to the bedroom. After turning on a small portrait light, Lou wanted to literally rip off their clothes but Spence suggested it would be more fun to slowly undress each other. Part of Spence’s motive, while not spoken, was to save the wear and tear on his clothing…the only threads he had to wear for the weekend. ‘I suppose Lou would buy me something if it came to that,’ he thought, while slipping off Lou’s jacket, ‘but that would seem kinda like gold digging.’

 

The other part of Spence’s technique was to be a tease: the longer Lou couldn’t have Spence, the more he absolutely had to. It was merchandising 101.

 

Piece by piece, the clothing piled up on the coffee table, although Spence neatly draped his pants over the back of the sofa. Each man was down to his underwear and Lou was now sporting an erection that struggled against the cotton boxers to be free. Spence kneeled and freed Lou’s boner by carefully pulling down his client’s boxers. Lou kicked them aside and Spence aimed his mouth for the mushroom head in front of him. The tip glistened from a few dribbles of pre-cum – he loved the earthy flavor of this lucid liquid, especially from a client who was as hot as Lou.

 

Lou let out a little whimper when Spence licked his glans. By the time Lou’s cock had completely entered Spence’s mouth, he could feel Lou’s trimmed pubes tickle his nose. He slowly withdrew and stood up. Lou immediately drew their lips together and the kiss expressed a passion each had been storing in reserve. Spence allowed Lou’s tongue to stroke his tongue and wondered if Lou tasted his own flavors.

 

“Spence,” Lou mumbled though the tongue twists, “let’s move over to the bed and…”

 

“Fuck?”

 

“You got that right.” Lou pulled down the covers, eased into bed and grabbed Spence’s hand. “I wanna eat you so bad…and then bang the shit out of you.”

 

“And I want that big cock of yours, too, soooo bad,” Spence eagerly barked back, mixing acting and eager anticipation. He had taken a very thorough shower earlier in the evening to tidy things up ‘down there’ and hoped that Lou had done the same thing at the gym after his lunchtime workout – playing with someone’s dirty bum was not high on Spence’s hit parade.

 

As Spence rolled over on his back, he heard a drawer of the bedside chest being opened and a quiet rustling. ‘Lube and rubbers,’ he thought, ‘let the games begin.’ He saw Lou place an unwrapped condom and bottle of Wet on the bed, and then moved between Spence’s spread legs. He rocked back a little to make his ass more accessible and felt Lou’s warm breath very near.

 

“You’re even better than I remembered,” Lou remarked in a husky voice.

 

‘Nothing like a vote of confidence,’ Spence cynically thought, while offering an encouraging groan. But with Lou, he valued the flattery and was rewarded by the entry of Lou’s wet tongue inside him. Spence knew the drill – tongue, fingers, legs up, cock in and lots of loud dirty talking while they screwed. If they repeated the pattern established back in Vegas, the roles would be reversed later in the evening. His job was to appear excited and pleased…with Lou, this was not a hard task…and return the pleasure.

 

~~~~~

 

Saturday morning was time to sleep in and rejuvenate. Cuddling was in order and Spence enjoyed the feeling of being in his friend’s arms as they breathed in unison. After a late breakfast, prepared by Lou, they ventured with Max to visit the Museum of Modern Art. Because of Mr. Gallian’s board position, a knowledgeable guide was assigned to walk them through the collections of French impressionists and the American abstract artists.

 

That evening, Max picked up a variety of Chinese take-out and the couple dined in Lou’s den while they watched a DVD movie. Later, they adjourned to the bedroom for Act II of their reunion – this time, after a touchy, feely shower – Spence led off with an exploring hungry tongue and with accoutrements in place, proceeded to make his client happy, albeit somewhat messy. By the time they had finished in reverse roles, a few condoms and generous portions of lube later, Spence had only a couple of hours of sleep. His plane back to Vegas was departing from JFK at 1:00 p.m., and he had to be at JetBlue’s T5 terminal no later than eleven.

 

Lou arranged for one of the security men to take Spence to the airport in the Suburban. The quiet man from Friday evening, now introduced as Andrew, would drop off Spence at JFK, spend a few hours with his family in nearby Long Island, and be back to the airport to pick up Mr. Gallian. He was due on an American Airlines flight from L.A. in late afternoon – Lou made a point of adding that, for image purposes and to save some money right now, the family traveled via commercial airlines. “Maybe when things return to normal,” He added, “we can initiate ourselves into the ‘mile-high’ club. There’s nothing like sex in a G550.”

 

Spence laughed and said, “The only airborne sex I’ve ever had was getting sucked off in the toilet of an Alaska Airlines jet. Talk about being cramped.”

 

“But that doesn’t count. Remember, Clinton claimed that oral wasn’t really sex.”

 

“Bill or Hilary?” Spence laughed and lightly punched Lou on the shoulder. “I dunno…it felt like the real thing to me.”

 

In the apartment vestibule, the two men said goodbye with a long hug and Lou said, “We’re going to get together again real soon…you can count on that. Maybe I can get away to Vegas next month.”

 

“Sounds like a plan.” Spence then shook Max’s hand, thanked him for his assistance and joined Andrew in the elevator. Lou waved and grinned broadly as the elevator doors closed. Spence thought that this weekend was one for the memory book. ‘Very profitable…and most enjoyable.’ But that was where it had to end – he didn’t want to end up like Spike had. ‘Best to keep it a client relationship – all friendly and business-like.’

 

The idea of getting some sleep on the JetBlue plane was very appealing. When he got back to Vegas, Spence planned on driving over to Cray’s house to join his brother at the pool party Cray and Spike were hosting. He didn’t want Kevin to see him dragging his well-used ass around. ‘And I wanna be my perky best for Kev’s friends.’

 

 

________________________

 

TO BE CONTINUED

 

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