That's the Chicago Way - 7. Chapter 7 - Cordiality is a State of Mind

THAT’S THE CHICAGO WAY

Jack Scribe

At a news conference organized by self-identified gang members, several speakers complained that Chicago police and city officials do not respect them.

ABC7 News

Chapter 7, CORDIALITY IS A STATE OF MIND

Visiting the Second Story was a hoot for Kris. Something completely new. The gay bar, wedged between an Armenian restaurant on the first floor and a palm-reading salon on the third, was in a non-descript building just off bustling Michigan Avenue. A Bud Light electric window sign, surrounded by a rainbow-colored oval, was the only indication that this was a place where the clientele were like-minded in the same-sex department. It was within a stone’s throw – if you were that guy who quarterbacked for the Green Bay Packers – of several major hotels, office towers and iconic shopping venues.

Arriving just a few minutes after nine, he walked up asagging stairwell that reeked of massage parlor disinfectant, opened the steel security door and spotted his date. Evan was sitting at a stool near the door…sticking out of the crowd by wearing a pink polo, designer jeans, Converse Chuck Taylor’s and a lime green cotton sweater that was slung ‘just so’ over his shoulders. It was a déjà vu moment: a virtual meeting of a modern day character stepping out of the old movie, Boys in the Band. Kris recently had seen this classic 1970, gay-themed flick from his Netflix queue. ‘Makes my fatigues, pullover hoodie and boots combo seem pretty lame by comparison.’He shook hands with his target for the evening and sat down on the empty bar stool that’d obviously been saved for him. It somewhat surprised him when Evan returned the shake with a firm grip. ‘Good looking guy who’s trying too hard to make a statement,’ Kris judged. ‘Hopefully there’s more than meets the eye.’

“Evan, whazzup? Kris Lamacki.” He considered for a moment a fist bump but decided against it.

“You, obviously,” Evan replied. “Good to see you…and the rest of this crowd obviously agrees.”

Several of the customers were giving Kris a quick scan before going back to their conversations and glass hoisting. “Goes with the territory…fresh meat entering the room. It’s my fifteen seconds of fame.”

He quickly scanned the bar. The lighting was primarily from more beer signs that seemed to accent the drab dinginess and cases of beer, stacked along one wall, added to the effect. But the highlight of the interior was a rotating disco ball that bounced reflections off frosted mirrors. Some of the guys – and women, too – hanging around looked like they’d lined up to get in around noontime. ‘Yeah, a Cheers bar…but for gay alkies.’ Others appeared to be visitor types on business trips. ‘Obviously a good place for guys looking for daddies.’ This was confirmed when Kris noticed guys around his age cozying up to older men. ‘But I don’t think they’re hustler types looking to turn a fast buck.’ His ’net research of the bar on Yelp yielded reviews that were generally favorable: ‘this place is like your gay uncle's basement in St. Charles. It’s a filthy dive, steps away from the glamorous Magnificent Mile, but everyone seems to have a great time. Plus, the bartenders are cute, drinks aren’t weak, and the video music is better than Sidetrack’s.’

A glance at the smiling dude approaching from behind the bar verified that the review concerning the staff was accurate. The bartender, with a close buzz cut and small silver spikes in his ears, subscribed to a slightly scruffier version of the light beard-grooming look. He filled out his tight, white tank top nicely and his pumped bare biceps nicely framed a gym-trained, ripped torso. The outline of ring-pierced nipples, covered by the ribbed cotton material, had just the right touch of a homoerotic turn-on.

‘I wonder if beverages are the only thing he’s selling?’ Kris ordered and watched the stud free-pour; the end result was a gin and tonic that was more like gin with a splash of tonic water. ‘No wonder there are so many happy souls at the bar. Better sip slowly to be on the safe side.’

They played the usual basic questions game and Kris decided he’d hide nothing. Well, almost nothing. If the your-place-or-mine question came up, he decided he’d mention that his mom was visiting from the ’burbs. Evan vaguely referred to his job as being legal counsel for a Skokie business concern but proudly showed off his Northwestern law school class ring. They swapped local gossip about who’d done what to whom at some of Boystown’s seedier bars and discovered they knew a few of the characters involved in some recent group love fests. Kris did feel compelled to add a mild disclaimer that he was only slightly acquaintedwith the randy crew. ‘Don’t want him to think I’m a complete slut.’

While Evan ordered another dirty martini, Kris continued to sip on his G & T. The conversation veered into the category of male entertainers and their doability. It was agreed that Justin Bieber was complete jailbait, but that the other Justin, Mr. Timberlake, would be just fine for a romp in the sack. Evan decided Gossip Girl’s Chace Crawford would be the perfect fantasy date while Kris enthusiastically opted for Glee’s Matthew Morrison. ‘Oh, my God, are we going on to Broadway show tunes next?’ he wondered. ‘Or who rocked on Ellen recently?’ It was hard for Kris to keep a high interest level in this babble. He actually considered for about two nano seconds asking, ‘Hey, what about those Cubs?’ but rejected the idea as a joke that wouldn’t fly. On the other hand, it was probably best that local events and the you-know-what item weren’t discussed. ‘Thank you G, for giving me some common sense.’

When Evan cast the suggestion that they go back to his place, Kris played a thirty-second coy-ish, hem and haw before caving in to the idea. Since he already knew that Evan’s apartment was only a five minute drive from the bar, Kris figured he could do his James Bond re-con, go through some slobbery grab-ass and be back home by midnight. ‘Maybe if he’ll shut up, we can even manage a happy ending before I split.’

Kris sat in the passenger’s seat of Evan’s Bimmer as they motored north on Michigan Avenue, passed the majestic Drake Hotel and merged onto the residential portion of Lake Shore Drive. Evan hummed, and Kris mostly looked at the various big-bucks condos and co-ops that lined the street. The architecture ranged from stately pre-Second World War, to Miami Beach rococo, to Venetian Gothic, to modernist; Kris had admired these building designs for as long as he could remember and this visual potpourri never failed to engage his imagination.

“Here we are,” Evan said moments later, pulling into the garage from a side street off LSD.

“These are neat apartments,” Kris replied. “I’ve been to a couple of parties at a friend’s place in 1350.” 1350 and 1360 Lake Shore Drive, red brick twin towers that stood next to each other, shared a common garage and were two of the very few rentals on the Near North Side section of the Drive. ‘But pretty dull in the looks department.’

“Well, hon, I’ve been living here four years, but only for the convenience. As a renter, I don’t have to worry about any of the crapola concerning maintenance. However, I’m planning on buying something pretty soon, depending on the economy…and other things. There are several buildings down by Millennium Park I’ve been looking at, and some lofts over by the Mart.”

Kris momentarily cringed at the ‘hon’ endearment and replied, “Wow, I like those buildings just north of Millennium Park. If you get a southern view, it’d be dy-no-mite.” Kris had mentioned earlier that he lived in the River North area – very near the Merchandise Mart – and didn’t want to draw the conversation to the specifics of his place.

“And high enough to see all the way down to Soldier Field. Yep, that’s probably what I’ll do.”

They parked in Evan’s assigned space, walked into the back entrance of the paneled lobby and took the elevator up to the fifth floor. The hallway reminded Kris of something one would probably find in a large convention hotel back in the eighties and it seemed like they’d walked a mile before arriving at the apartment. He made a mental note of 522 on the door.

“I hadn’t planned on entertaining tonight,” Evan said, opening the door, “So excuse any mess I forgot to pick up. I kinda had to dash around after work to get ready.”

“Don’t worry, I can relate to making a mess and dashing...especially if I’m running late for a class.”

Kris waited until Evan turned on the lights and walked inside. Spartan with attitude was his immediate reaction. Having recently furnished his own place from Room and Board, he recognized that the few pieces of furniture in the apartment were pretty spiffy in the design department and very pricey. On the left was a small kitchen that would be very tedious for anyone with cheffing interests and he assumed the hallway to the right led to the bedroom. ‘One room I can do without, if it’s avoidable.’

“How about another drink, doll?” Evan dropped his keys and cell on the kitchen counter and tossed his sweater onto a nearby chair. “I think I’m transitioning to a Pinot Grigio.”

“A young Italian white…delish,” Kris replied, purposely slipping out a snippet of good-natured, low-key sarcasm. “Mind if I use your john?”

Evan pointed at the darkened space beyond an open door at the end of the short hallway. “Be my guest. After you get your makeup freshened, you’ll find me in the sitting room of the south wing.” He laughed and added, “Just kidding.”

“About the sitting room or the south wing?” Kris asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “Back in a sec.” He walked away thinking, ‘Evan’s not so bad once you get over him being so full of himself. For some reason, this character can’t resist playing the gay card and all this stereotypical shit. Maybe if I call him Dorothy it’ll shut him up.’

The white bathroom consisted of a generic tub-slash-shower combo with a black and white curtain, a sink with just enough space for the electric toothbrush, and a cadet toilet. Kris held little Kris in one hand and managed to reach over and open the medicine cabinet with the other. Once he’d established a relatively splash-free stream, Kris began relieving himself while quickly reviewing the cabinet’s contents.

Neutrogena sun cream, three different colognes, an array of Clinique facial products, Michel Germain deodorant, L’OccitaneCade shaving cream and after-shave balm, and a Bic razor. Kris was amused that a cheap throwaway razor was sitting next to all these mucho-expensive toiletry products. He compared this with his grooming aids that he bought at the nearby Walgreen’s – generic and on sale if possible.

‘Hmm, no prescription stuff.’ Kris shook the last drops away and zipped up. After washing his hands and using the only towel available – still damp from an earlier use – he looked into the cabinet from a closer angle. There was nothing incriminating and he quietly closed the mirrored door.

The mood in the living room had changed. Votive candles were the only lighting and Kris knew that the moment would probably be arriving soon. ‘It’s the trusty have-a-drink-and-go-for-sex routine.’ Evan had removed his shoes and sat on the sofa with his feet propped up on the coffee table. He was grinning at Kris’s return and patted the seat area next to him.

“The wine, sir, is waiting.” Evan picked up a large wine glass with a small portion of Pinot Grigio inside and handed it to Kris by the stem.

“It waits no longer,” Kris replied. He took the wine glass, sat down and swirled the wine. “Ah…nice bouquet. 2010 vintage I assume?”

“Was it the screw cap that gave it away,” Evan replied with a shrug.

Kris winked back. ‘Best not make any jokes about screw caps or screwing.’ In this staged environment, Evan had a shadowy, handsome glow that played well. Now that they weren’t in the bar, Kris felt Evan’s shift from the manufactured showiness to a definitely sexy guy. ‘Maybe I should ask him more about his work and who he works for?’ he pondered.

“You’re not only a verifiable hot guy,” Evan said, “but you also seem to be a pretty nice one…and bright.” He took a sip and put his hand on Kris’s thigh. “Nice combination.”

“The combination is three turns to the right, two to the left, one to the right and voila…open sesame.” Kris decided to play the bit for comic relief and was happy when Evan laughed.

“Clever lad.” Evan slowly moved his hand further up the thigh until it stopped at the outline of Kris’s bulge.

“But I didn’t exactly say ‘open’ would be where you’re going,” Kris replied, placing his hand on top of Evan’s. He looked into Evan’s eyes and was momentarily captured by the smoldering intensity of the guy’s sparkling blue eyes. “But I must say…you certainly know how to get what you want.”

“Maybe. Not to be avoiding the obvious, Kris, but I feel very comfortable with you and…we’re both feeling what’s natural…you know.”

It wasn’t a question.

“Man, you must work around women and old men all day. Where’s that…in Skokie, right?”

“Skokie. But that’s apples and oranges.”

“Hear me out for a minute or two,” Kris replied. ‘I gotta get something out of this dude before things happen.’ He took Evan’s hand and placed it on his growing crotch. ‘Is this the way Mata Hari started out?’ he wondered, mentally digging back into history. “I’m at school most of the day and exposed to some pretty hot guys…students and a few of the teachers. As you know, good eye candy can be very soothing for horniness at our age.” He hoped Evan would fall for this blatant flattering of age comparison…since they were almost nine years apart. “Just saying that if you’re working in a place where…say your boss and office staff are less than desirable…well…”

“…My boss, Marv…ah, yeah…I get your point. At our age, being horny is part of the game. Speaking of points, what I’m feeling is pretty nice.”

Although it wasn’t supposed to happen, Kris decided his stirring dick wasn’t a bad thing and he could multi-task under a variety of circumstances. ‘And once you get beyond Evan’s bullshit, the guy does flip my switch…at least as an alternative to my hand.’ Little Kris wanted to play and Big Kris didn’t object.

While Evan probed, Kris moved his hand over to the denim mound of Evan’s crotch. It was obviously larger than a few minutes earlier and the visible outline of his hardening equipment, projecting to the left pocket of the jeans, suggested that the guy was free balling. As if by telepathy, each man began rubbing the other’s stiffening cock.

In a sudden move, Evan reached under Kris’s hoodie while moving in for a kiss. Before Kris could say anything, a hot probing tongue attacked his mouth and Evan’s fingers played with his nipples. ‘Fuck this shit, two can tango.’ Kris dipped his hand under the waistband of Evan’s jeans and found what was growing ‘down there.’ He wrapped his hands around Evan’s erection and let his thumb rub away at its fleshy head and foreskin. ‘Yowsa, this uncut fucker is hung like a horse,’ he realized, fighting the battle of tongues. ‘And I think he takes manscaping to the extreme.’ At the base of the large root, there was a noticeable absence of hair. ‘Smooth as a baby’s…whatever.’

Evan pulled away for a moment and whispered, “You know, we’ll be much more comfortable in the other room. I’ve got everything back there we need.”

“What do you have in mind, Mr. Big?” Kris replied with a snicker.

“Let’s fuck…like I want you to…”

“…I get the picture. Getting inside you and fucking your brains out.” Kris was also ready to get inside the bedroom and have a look-see.

“You read my mind,” Evan said.

“When two guys have boners, it’s not hard to figure out how to make the most out of the opportunity.” Kris decided to add a dimension to it, however, just in case a speedy exit was required. “But first, let’s get undressed here and enjoy seeing each other in the candlelight.”

“Oh, I like that thinking.”

‘Pal, you don’t have a clue about what I’m really thinking,’ Kris thought.

Evan took Kris’s hand away and stood up. He pulled Kris up and slipped off his hoodie. Kris responded by giving Evan a quick peck and removing the polo shirt. In the flickering shadows, Evan’s smooth chest and abs had a natural look. Like he was blessed with a body that didn’t take much work to maintain. While Kris started unbuttoning Evan’s jeans, he leaned in and tongued Evan’s nipples. A slight stubble suggested that Evan shaved that area also. This was the first time in quite a while that Kris was getting intimate with someone so smooth…and he had to admit that it turned him on even more. While Kris lapped and nibbled, Evan took time to slide down his jeans and step out of them.

“Let me see what’s going to impale me,” Evan said, as he quickly undid Kris’s top pants button, unzipped the fly and noticed the next layer. “Yum, I love a hot guy in his Calvin’s.” In one fast move, he removed Kris’s camo fatigues.

Kris kicked aside his pants and did a little mock modeling of his black CK briefs before slipping them off. “I hope you like small packages,” He looked down and saw his erect, fat five and a half inches pointing to the ceiling. ‘Evan must have an even seven…at least,’ he decided, ‘but I know how to work with what I’ve got.’

“I’d love to be fucked by that piece of meat any day…if you know how to use it.”

“No one’s complained, yet,” Kris replied. ‘Especially recently.’ He recalled his playtime with Rob earlier in the week.

Evan pulled at Kris’s hand and added, “Let’s go play.”

Each man was still wearing his socks but Kris decided it wouldn’t be an issue. ‘The bedroom has the same bare look as the living room,’ he thought as they entered. ‘Pretty stark and basic.’ Besides the bed, floor lamp, TV and some storage containers, the room was devoid of any style or personality. ‘Just the necessities, I guess, so life doesn’t get complicated in his batcave.’ A nightlight from a wall socket offered the only illumination.

“We’re going to enjoy this…hot stuff,” Evan said huskily, as he moved in for an embrace and kiss. Their bodies were together and Evan ground his hardness into Kris’s. He gently pushed Kris back onto the bed and joined him. “Just a sec…I got everything we need underneath.” He reached under the bed and slid out a plastic drawer that contained all the basic accoutrements for a safe and rewarding romp.

Kris looked down and saw several rubbers, a bottle of Wet lube and a little brown bottle that was probably poppers. ‘Wonder if this bottom boy has a few nasty dildos lying around to use when he’s into solo entertaining?’ He reached down and grabbed a condom and the Wet. ‘No way I’m going to do poppers.’ He uncapped the lube and looking around the room one more time. There was nothing suspicious that jumped out at him. ‘Jeez, after you peel away his veneer, this guy is a complete minimalist…except for what’s swinging between his legs. Looks like I’m going to chalk this off as a good fuck…and nothing more.’ He squirted a portion of lube in one hand and reached down to Evan’s hardness. ‘This dick is more than nice.’ He applied the some of the lube so Evan could jerk off if he wanted too. But the primary target was behind the guy’s shaved balls. He glided under and around until he found the puckered land of promise. One finger slowly moved in and…

A telephone rang from somewhere near the bed.

“Oh, fuck,” Evan said, as he pulled Kris’s hand away. “Sorry, babe. I gotta take this.”

‘Guess I missed the phone because of the lighting.’ Kris was disappointed in himself as he glanced over and saw the phone in its charger sitting on the floor near the wall.

Evan lifted the handset and pressed the ‘on’ button. “Yes?” was all he said. “Yeah…no…can’t talk. I…I’ll call you first thing in the morning. Eight.” Evan tossed down the phone and said, “Kris, let’s forget that happened.” Evan took Kris’s hand and guided it back to where it had been seconds earlier. “As you were saying…”

“This little piggy went to market,” Kris said, inserting his index finger into Evan’s anus. He played around for a moment before the second finger very easily joined the first one. “And this little piggy stayed home.” By the time his third finger slid in and Kris said, “Wee, wee, wee,” Evan was moaning and more than ready for the real thing.

They romped and tried a few positions, including doggy-style and squatting, before settling in with homo-missionary with attitude; Evan spread wide and his feet planted on Kris’s chest. A couple of times, Kris ‘edged’ to avoid a crescendo until he was sure Evan was ready. Finally, with Kris’s determined dick pounding in and out, Evan yelled the famous line, “I’m cumming.” Evan squealed as Kris brought the deed to a sweaty, messy and intense conclusion. As Evan’s legs slid down, Kris pulled away and noticed the puddles of spunk that covered Evan’s torso. ‘That’s a mess I want to avoid.’ He got up on his knees and twisted around to lie next to Evan.

Afterwards, as they calmed down – physically and emotionally – Evan became very quiet and withdrawn. ‘He’s not even up to that post whatchamacallit moment?’ Kris wondered, ‘when the couple in the movie share a cigarette and make nice?’ It took a few moments, after delving back into memories of his middle school sex education course, to come up with the word and context. ‘Yeah, post-coital…as if a gay boy like me has that on the tip of his tongue.’

Kris finally got up, padded into the bathroom to retrieve the trusty towel, disposed of one used condom and came back for the clean up. Kris wiped the residue from Evan’s face and hair…and this stirred the host back to reality. They both said things that would be forgotten by the following morning – we’ll get together real soon, you’re the best, et cetera – and Kris got dressed while Evan stayed in the bedroom without saying anything more.

It was eleven-thirty. The evening had begun on a variation of that old kid’s tale, The Spider and the Fly.

Will you walk into my parlor? said the Spider to the Fly,
’Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy…

It ended with the exhausted spider tucked in his web and the fly ready to leave the scene.

Kris quietly looked around the kitchen and living room one final time. Nothing was even remotely suspicious. At the bedroom doorway, he said ‘goodbye’ and got a whispery ‘bye’ in return. ‘Is there such a thing as gay post-coital blues?’ He let himself out of the apartment and took the elevator to the lobby and street. ‘He really clammed up after we did the dirty deed. What’s that all about? I’m going to Google and find out.’

Fortunately, he waited only a few minutes before a cruising Yellow Cab came by. While he traveled home, Kris played back the evening and realized how vain it was to judge anyone by their cover. Evan, pretentious and full of himself, was a pretty good companion in bed. ‘He held his own and really got off on me holding back until he was ready.’ Kris reflected on their inane conversation at the bar and decided the topics were just what Evan thought other gay guys wanted to talk about. Although they hadn’t discussed it, he wondered if Evan was into gossipy tweets on Twitter. ‘The dude is complicated.’

As the cab neared Hubbard Street and his condo, he organized in his mind how this evening would be replayed to Rob during lunch. ‘And what about that phone call?’

~~~~~ 

It had been a perfect cat and mouse evening for Evan. ‘Or maybe spider and fly is a better analogy…with me weaving a web.’ Meeting at the slightly seedy bar near the Marriott had been a brilliant stroke, he decided, in throwing this young stud muffin off balance. Kris was obviously at home in the Boystown environment and the Second Story bar dampened the comfort level a little. He purposely dressed a little over the top to ratchet up the unsteadiness of Kris’s cock-sure attitude and to create a mildly perverse level of curiosity at the same time – an X factor that’d stood him well in the past. When he was ready to suggest they come back to his apartment, Evan didn’t want refusal to even be an option.

To maintain the persona, he made sure their conversation was light and carefree. Certainly no topics of worldly proportions and absolutely nothing with a local flavor were discussed. When it came to work, any direct reference to an employer was deflected. Evan feared that if Kris somehow made the connection of whom he worked for, Marv Revson’s deeds would tarnish the relationship and the intended results. The conversation he directed was right out of a chatty gay blog and Evan was amused by the results. The bonus was Kris’s spunk and sense of humor. ‘The kid didn’t give an inch. And I didn’t have to pull out the old show tunes chestnut.’ He’d timed everything perfectly; Kris didn’t blink or bat an eye when Evan asked about leaving. ‘It’s almost too easy. But then, I’m a rather sexy devil.’

When Kris asked to use the bathroom when they first arrived, it was the right moment for Evan to set the scene. ‘With me luring this scrumptious fly into my inner web.’ The two-dozen votive candles that had earlier been strategically placed around the living room for an alluring atmosphere were quickly lit. Perfect. Opening the wine and pouring two glasses. Refreshing. Hearing the toilet flush just after Evan had taken off his shoes. Showtime. Pulling the old hand-on-the-leg trick when Kris sat down. Success. And feeling Kris’s hand on his crotch moments later. Bulls-eye. Undressing each other? Wow. Seeing what was going to penetrate him. Awesome. Small packages were sometimes deceiving…and this was certainly the case with Kris.

The move to the bedroom had been a success. ‘Well, except for that asshole Sean’s phone call.’ Neither fumbled nor stumbled; Kris seemed to know exactly what he wanted and how he wanted it. And Evan’s versatility insured that each man would be pleased.

After it was established what was going to work best, Evan was pleasantly surprised by the young guy’s skills in bed. ‘He might not have the biggest dick in the world…but he knows how to make it work effectively,’ Evan decided. ‘And his thoughtfulness about being sure I was happy.’ Evan was very happy…right up to the final orgasmic sprint.

Euphoria was short-lived after the final release, and he’d felt exhausted and weak. ‘Not good for a control freak,’ he thought with a faint smile. After several minutes, he managed to regain some composure and engage in some stilted but polite conversation – the empty promises two people make after sex and probably would never keep. He wondered if Kris would even ‘friend’ him on Facebook as promised?

When Kris left, Evan lay listlessly in bed and wondered if the realities about his job, and all the resulting drama baggage, were bringing back the anxieties he used to experience some years ago after a mind-blowing orgasm. ‘And to have Sean calling just as Kris and I were getting into it.’ But Sean’s call wasn’t the problem. Rather, it was getting the blues resulting from finishing mind-blowing sex – a sexually induced, emotional roller coaster was the way a psychiatrist described it in a New York Times article he’d looked up a couple of years ago.

And the doctor had a preposterous way – in Evan’s not-so-humble opinion – to cure this malady. He had concludedthat the best way to take his patients off this ride was to make sex less fun. Doctor Quack did this by prescribing inhibitors such as Prozac and Zoloft: drugs that even the mood, lift the spirits and often bring on sexual dysfunction. Patients reported that, “While sex was less intensely pleasurable, no emotional crash followed.”

‘Fuck him…and without any lube. What am I supposed to do? Play straight and jerk off to Playboy?’

He remembered part of a poem by the Irish poet, Yates. When Evan lapsed into a funk, he would dredge up these words.

From pleasure of the bed

Dull as a worm,

His rod and its butting head

Limp as a worm,

His spirit that has fled

Blind as a worm.

However, earlier that evening, his worm had been fully engaged in this classic guy seeking guy game for sex. ‘Man, did that work out well. Both horny and obviously attracted to each other – the drive that got us into bed in the first place – and I ‘fled’ after we got off. Wow, did I blow a gasket with Kris. He and that dick of his knew how to satisfy. And then I flip out and emotionally run away. Guess there’s no easy answer but I’ll be okay…until the next time.’

Evan had discussed this with a psychologist friend some time ago. He told Evan the obvious, somewhat agreeing with the article: “It’s no secret that revved-up drives make guys do what they do: your little head making all the decisions. But afterwards, some guys can get as dull as paint drying when the spirit of the moment flees. And the more satisfying the sex, the duller you get.” He concluded that there was nothing that wrong for Evan to worry about, but suggested, “When in doubt, fake it. Women have been doing that forever.’

Faking it slowly became a way of life…not only in his spotty sexual encounters but in his escalating professional career as well. And now, in his twenty-ninth year, everything was working. ‘Until tonight…again.’

Kris and his moves had gotten him to a conclusion that was amongst the best he’d experienced since college. That he was able to finish at the same time – and splatter his face and chest with force several times – was a bonus point. But what followed left Evan with a flawed memory. Evan was under no illusion that there’d now be another time with the guy. It was one of those momentary clicks…and nothing more.

‘And after I shut down, he’s scared away for sure. But I’ll friend him on Facebook…just in case.’

The final business before he drifted off to sleep was to decipher Sean O’Reilly’s brief call. Putting aside the unfortunate timing, Evan wondered what Sean meant by saying the Feds were sniffing around the Caymans. ‘That must be where Sean keeps his pin money for a rainy day.’ It was the first time Evan had heard about this. Marv had shunned Switzerland a few years earlier, keeping one step ahead of the U.S. Government, and now funneled his funds through Luxembourg to Singapore.

Tomorrow, when a clearer head and a cleaner body prevailed, Evan would return the call and determine what Sean was panicking about before reporting in to Marv. ‘And after that’s done, should I sit down and develop a departure strategy that keeps me alive?’ One of the down sides to being Marv’s trusted aide was that Evan knew a lot. ‘Actually, too much.’ And detailed knowledge about the Revson business interests was not a plus on his career path or personal health curve.

‘But that’s on hold for a few hours.’ Right now, Evan was more intent on reliving the events with Kris and maybe stroke one out to a modest and problem-free ending. The bottle of Wet was still open and he was rising to the occasion. ‘And after I sort out things with Sean, maybe I’ll be ready to hit Sidetrack’s for Sunday happy hour. Who knows, maybe there’ll be another dude like Kris just waiting for someone like me.’

He put in his Ipod ear buds and selected Maroon 5 with ambisexual lead singer Adam Levine’s song, Runaway.

What am I supposed to do with this time?
If there's so many holes, I stay afloat
but I feel out of control
so petrified, I'm petrified.

What am I supposed to do to get by?
Did I lose everything? I need to survive
'cause at 4am, when the sweat sets in
did you get my message? Did it send?
Or did you just get on with your life?

 ____________________________

TO BE CONTINUED

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