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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.

Orpheus - 1. Chapter 1


By: Ash_Apollinar

“…and Orpheus made them forget about their women. He taught them how to be lovers of men…”
--Greek Mythology ‘Orpheus and Eurydice’

I found a lone butterfly one day in Central Park. Weak and dying, it flittered sporadically like that flame on a weeping candle. Yet in my hands, the poor thing felt warm. Surely, the autumn air is no match for a spring creature. How then should I judge the season?

I watched the poor thing shrivel as it unfolded its eye patterns on each brown wing. Then it died. Yet, its beauty remained, minus the warmth. I let it fall unto the ground. It fell like a leaf, landed like a leaf and turned into a leaf. Nobody would ever know now that it was there, amongst the dead.

Autumn is a celebration of death—upon its beauty.

Autumn is beautiful. Although cold, it was sensitive.

I sat back on the park bench and looked around. I waited for half an hour now. I was early.

Then she finally came, all covered up in expensive fur. She handed me an envelope.

“I can’t thank you enough,” the woman said, her hands all decorated with rings and wrists with bracelets as she held my white treasure. It was my cash—payment for my services.

“My pleasure madam,” I said, standing up.

I know what most of you might be thinking. Yes, I am hustler. Indeed, I sell sex but not as it is—I sell pleasure. For some, sex and pleasure are synonymous. But for Mrs. Cooper here, sex and pleasure come in different packages.

“It’s what he needed, at least, for the time being,” she said, looking at her feet.

“Different people, different needs,” I said.

“That’s true,” she sighed.

There was silence.

I didn’t fuck Mr. Cooper—not directly. I know—it’s much harder to explain than to show you. But I will tell you otherwise.

Mr. Cooper lost his fire, not because he was getting old or for any health reasons. He loved his wife but not her presence, so to speak. They were married for 20 years—twenty golden years for the missus but not for the mister. He was in denial, closeted with all his glory, suddenly realizing that money does not give you much happiness—unless you buy something with it. That is why I was here, facing her. This is what it’s all about.

I came like a tidal wave—metaphorically speaking. The restaurant was very fancy and I had to wear something—well something very fancy. Middle-agers planted themselves on rounded tables too big for their own good.

Secret eyes were on me, including the women. I usually don’t go both ways but there are exceptions. The thing I’ve learned with lust is that you do not smother them with attention. You poke here, you tickle there and before you know it—you have it standing at attention. I looked at the men with passing yet teasing glances as if telling them I was open for business.

A woman with coifed gray hair leaned towards her husband for a whisper. The husband then looked at me and checked me out like merchandise. The missus then winked and I winked in return. But they were not my clients this time. Remember Mr. and Mrs. Cooper.

I came to the couple’s table and found they had guests.

“Mr. and Mrs. Cooper,” I said, standing beside the guest couple.

Mrs. Cooper looked up, expressed a bit of a surprise and extended her hand. I received it and gave it a kiss.

“I guess we have business to discuss?” I said, sounding like professional. Why not?

“Dave, you’re finally here,” missus said.

“In the flesh ma’am,” I said.

I looked at Mr. Cooper, his eyes filled with anticipation. He took a sip out of his glass of champagne.

Incredibly, Mr. Cooper looked corporately handsome. His face was quite smooth despite his age. He rather looked like the fantastical daddy everyone wants to call his or her father and that was cute that way. His skin had a tint of healthy red, which made it difficult for him to keep his flushes. I especially loved his white hair.

“Mr. Cooper, I presume?” I said, extending my hand. He grasped it and gave me a little shake like how they do it in meetings. “I’m sorry I’m late but…” I said, cut off.

“No, it’s fine actually. You’re basically on time,” he said, glancing at his watch. There was a bit of a pause. “Sit—please sit,” he said, “What would you like to have?” he added, signaling the waiter.

“Gene, Leila…this is Dave…the one I’ve told you about,” missus said.

“Roberta…you’ve really caught a nice one this time,” the woman named Leila said.

My heart stopped. They know. Do they really know?

“I…” I began to say.

Roberta almost choked on her drink.

“It’s okay David…Leila and Gene here are good people,” Roberta said. She need not tell me more. That’s how I knew how these things work. While there are swingers, there are the naturally curious. Roberta and William Cooper are the discreetly curious bunch. Eugene and Leila might be too. They are a network of couples searching for new flavors, spices that add heat to the autumn of their marriages. Like the butterfly, my presence will die after the moment passes.

I ordered gourmet chicken and ate daintily as I can throughout the night. William’s stare was beginning to bare down on me and so I made a decision to douse the flame temporarily. I excused myself for the restroom and sure enough, William followed.

Fortunately, the restroom was empty. William used the urinal next to mine and we relieved ourselves. At first, there was an uneasy silence. I opened my space completely, making sure William had first glance on the goods. He took a good look at it. He breathed in heavily.

“You look very incredible,” he said, chuckling uncomfortably.

“Why thank you Mr. Cooper?”

“Please call me Will.”

I turned to him and smiled. “Thank you, Will,” I said.

“You’re welcome. I mean, you really do look incredible and not just…you know,” he said, pertaining to the goods he came to see earlier.

“What a nice thing to say?"

“God, you know, this really feels so awkward. I haven’t really done this before,” he said, resting his head on the wall. I noticed he was still holding his member even after he had drained it completely. I stayed with him in that position so he’d ease up a bit.

“You’re sweating,” I said, smiling.

“You think,” he said, smiling back.

“There’s always a first time for everything,” I said.

“I guess you’d never have to feel this way, huh,” he said.

“No, sometimes people let me do things differently. Some things I’ve never done before. But I’ve always told myself that things aren’t usually what they seem.”

We moved to the wash now.

“What was it like? You know, your first time,” he said, his hands under the faucet.

“It’s nothing special, really. Probably how you felt like your first time,” I said to him.

“Yeah, probably,” he said, looking at me through the mirror. I was standing by his side, waiting for him to finish.

“Do you always make people feel fuzzy?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like the way you stand behind me, it feels like you’re—well, like you’re being genuinely thoughtful,” he said.

“I’m sorry.”

“N-no, I mean—that’s good. It’s just that you make me feel strangely important,” he said, exhaling heavily. He was really straining. But it was my job to keep things easy, make him comfortable and open.

He was drying his hands on the basin when I took them in mine and wiped them dry using a paper towel. He tensed up, hesitant at first but eventually let me have my way with him.

“Isn’t this what it’s all about? Making you feel good?” I said, gently patting his hands.

He nervously took glances over at the door, fearing someone might walk in on us.

I took his dried hands and kissed them gently. He closed his eyes as I grazed my lips over one of his index finger.

He grabbed me and kissed me full on the lips. I, too, was nervous. I didn’t want to make a scandal. I could hear my heart thumping very fast like an inner drum was beating inside my skull. But I allowed his invasion, letting his lips press against mine. He was warm.

He withdrew suddenly.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me?” he said, covering his face with his hands. He faced the mirror again.

I took him his hands off his face and tugged him gently towards one of the stall.

“Its okay, Will. This is what we are here for,” I said to him inside. “Look,” I said, sliding the lock in place.

William let go of his inhibitions and pressed himself against me. His hard-on was impressive. It seemed he had a warm solid rock inside his pants. We kissed for a while, sliding our tongues inside each other’s mouth. William was a good kisser. He not only stuck his tongue in but sucked mine as well. His stubble brushed against my chin, all the way down to my neck as he pecked at my skin. The smell of his aftershave sent me goose bumps.

We paused, only catching our breaths. We smiled. I licked my fingers and slid them inside his pants.

He grunted, jerked at first. He opened his mouth to utter a silent moan. He bit his upper arm instead to stifle the sound he would make. I moved my hand around his length, pulling his sac up towards his shaft. I continued sliding his cock in between my index and middle finger, feeling the veins that puff up along its length. He rested his forehead against mine and breathed even deeper while I rubbed him. Soon my hands began to feel wet as his pre-sex juices oozed out. I took my hand out and pushed him down on the toilet.

“For now, this’ll have to do,” I said.

I sat on top of him and ground my hips on his crotch before his climax meter drains to zero. His cock pressed against my crotch, throbbing and feeling like live fire. I moved up and down over him, watching his face cringe in pleasure. I kissed him from time to time and he happily obliged. I planted my hands on the far wall so that his face was in front of my chest. It made maneuvering much easier.

“Oh god,” he said under his breath, wrapping his arms around tightly so he could push himself up towards me.

I took one hand and pressed his head against my chest so he could express his orgasm. He came in floods. His cum seeping through my pants, burning my thigh in its warmth. William’s muffled moans buzzed through my ribs. I moaned as well when I felt his teeth on my nipple.

His grip around me loosened. I looked at him, seeing how vibrant his afterglow was. I gave him one last kiss. I pulled ample tissue paper and cleaned him up. He smiled as if it was a game.

We straightened out each other, making sure every button was in place, every stray hair tamed and zippers zipped.

“You go on ahead, I’ll follow,” I told him.

He kissed me again and left.

After he was gone, I spent a few minutes observing myself in the mirror. The fade-out was a different one, different from William’s, that is. I get off seeing people at the mercy of pleasure, seeing their expression as they come at the point of no return. Orgasms are secondary now. I make my business prosper that way.

I sniffed at Will’s musk on my fingers before I washed them. His odor was intoxicating, smelled so masculine—so virile.

A patch of wetness was still on my pants where William came. I decided to let it stay. His warmth was still eating through my skin, making me feel so incredibly high.

I left the restroom feeling invigorated. A waiter smiled my way as I went passed the nearest table. I smiled back, looking as relaxed as possible. William was already having pep talks with one of the couples at another table. I passed by without flinching and we stole quick glances. I made my way towards the table and entertained Roberta, the better half as well as the other couple Gene and Leila.

We left the restaurant in good spirits. William strode especially close. Roberta was still bidding her goodbyes and goodnights. She asked me if I came with a ride and I told her I came here on a taxi.

“Well—it doesn’t get much better than this,” she said trotting down hurriedly towards the car. The valet opened her side. William went to open my door but I stopped him.

“Sorry…” he said, embarrassed.

I shook my head cheerily in amusement. I did not know how an encounter would have that much effect.

“Wasn’t that lovely?” Roberta said. “Wasn’t it darling?” she added.

William looked at his wife and simply offered his smile.

He looked at me through the rear view mirror as if waiting for instructions.

I nodded my head towards Roberta.

“I love you very much, darling,” he said, stealing a kiss from her.

“I love you too, William,” Roberta said and leaned to kiss him.

William looked at me through the mirror again and I gave him a nod of approval.

I should’ve told something to you before. This set-up isn’t the typical sex-purchase process you’d be assuming. I wasn’t just a hustler but I was different things as well. I was a teacher—a sex guru, if you will. I’m also a shrink and a mechanic. I was even a fixer. Whatever you'd like to call it. If sexual partners use toys to enhance their sex lives, I was there to do the same.

In fact, Roberta came to me before. She said she came to know me through my other clients.

“If you could give me back my husband, I’ll pay you double,” she said, huffing smoke like a chimney. She was nervous, clearly in distress.

“Maybe my services aren’t the right thing for you,” I told her.

“We’ve tried everything, a sex therapist, counseling—you name it. It just doesn’t work.”

“I use very unique—I mean, unusual ways to help, as you have put it,” I said.

“Look at me,” she said, her eyes squinting, making her crow’s feet more profound. She wasn’t really that ‘Cruela de Ville’ looking. She looked charming, elegant—the sort of thing young males sought after. “Do you think, I give a damn how you’d go about you’re work?” she added. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I just feel like I’m loosing him,” she continued.

She fished another cigarette in her purse. She was trembling. I took the liberty of using the table lighter to give her a light.

“Thank you,” she said, puffing on it deeply.

“Mrs. Cooper,” I said.


“Roberta, I’m not sure if you have come to grasp what it is that I do,” I said.

“Of course, I do,” she said, “Precisely why I am asking you for your help.”

“Listen, if you’ll allow me to help you…you have to understand the circumstances,” I explained.

“Whatever it takes,” she said, “Now, David…you’re name’s David, right? Are you going to help me or not?”

I looked at the envelope on the table and my expression must’ve given me away.

“I love my husband. I’d do anything for him. I mean, c’mon, do you think I live like this my whole life? Let’s be honest, money makes the world go ‘round.”

I stared at the floor, trying to avoid her eyes.

“You know what I mean, don’t you David? You don’t want to look at me because you know it’s true. How long will millions of dollars last, anyway?” She started to sniffle.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“You don't have to be sorry. That is my job.”

“If I am going to help you, then you must realize that certain truths will have to surface and it’s not going to be pretty,” I said.

“I don’t care,” she puffed, “We don’t care. William and I have talked about it. He agreed we do it for the sake of our marriage.”

“Then let me ask you this? Are you prepared to face the truth that…”

“That what?”

“That Mr. Cooper might be gay.”

She was silent but reserved.

“I’ve thought about that. People live with it. Some of my friends have. People like us— we aren’t very forgiving. If I know William, he’d rather hide it. But I see how it might be killing him. This way, I’ll be doing him a favor. If he were gay, then I’d be doing just that—doing him a favor. Anyway, everybody has secrets. Why can’t we?”

“That’s true.”

“Then does that mean you’ll help me,” she said.

I was silent. She waited for an answer but she was patient. I leaned over and opened my mouth to say something but I held back. Instead, I reached for the envelope and slid it across my side of the table. I heard her sigh.

“But you must understand,” she said puffing again, “we’d like to do things privately, with your confidence.”

I told her it wasn’t going to be a problem. The market is very lucrative. Why would anyone try to destroy they’re milking cow or the hand that takes care of it? Anyway, the likes of them made the business. The business is a system within a system—their system. I was merely a tool—or a toy, whichever they’d prefer. And like any other system, there were rules to follow.

I slid my card over to her. She picked it up.

“Is this where you work?”

“Call the number on the card, if you want to contact me—management rules.”

“You’re forgetting the money,” she said.

“I’ll take the money later,” I said to her.

Of course, I didn’t have to wait for long. I received a message from her by the following day. We met, gave me the money and directions for the restaurant they were going to have dinner later that night.

Roberta was drunk. That is probably why she was extra cheery that night. William was a bit concerned—maybe embarrassed was the right word.

We arrived at their fancy mansion and we had to pass through arches from the gate, as well as security to buzz us in.

Roberta went in ahead, carrying her shoes in one hand. She was humming something. As we came through the door, she went straight for the den for another round of drink. I was behind William. I even helped him take off his coat. He watched me as I hanged his coat in the closet.

“Would you like another drink, David?” Roberta said, chugging on her bourbon.

“No thanks, Mrs. Cooper. I think I’ve had enough for one night.”

The truth is I just didn’t want to get drunk while I was working.

I took Roberta’s fur coat and her shoes.

“You don’t have to do that,” William said.

“I know,” I said, smiling. It was part of the job—it was full service.

Roberta sat on the couch and began to close her eyes. William went beside her and sat down as well. I was standing by the fireplace just waiting for the right moment. William kept fidgeting, running his hands along his thighs and biting his lips.

“Maybe you should have drink, Mr. Cooper,” I said, moving over to the bar.

“No, I don’t think so,” he said.

“C’mon, maybe just a swig—it’ll help you relax,” I said, pouring the rum.

“Yes have a drink William,” Roberta mumbled, “Let’s celebrate,” she added, drinking her bourbon.

William took the drink and he drank it all down. I smiled at him. I can see he was very anxious.

I bent over the fireplace and poked it around. I stood up and started taking off my suit. William swallowed hard.

“How about some music,” Roberta said, all of a sudden. She went over the music bar and pushed some buttons. Smooth jazz, interspersed with hot sax went on. Roberta began dancing by herself. I thought I should dance with her before she run into something.

“Let’s dance Roberta,” I said, pulling her into me. I swayed with her and she wailed in delight.

“My oh my,” I said, “You are a regular go-go dancer, Roberta.”

“Oh you should’ve seen me then,” she said, twirling to my lead. “I was the hottest dame on the dance floor. Wasn’t I William?”

“Oh you are,” I said, doing the New Yorker with her.

“That’s how we met by the way. William’s not bad, I tell ya,” she said. “Why don’t you dance with him, David?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” I said, leading her to the couch where she sat down again, nursing her drink.

“So how about it,” I told William, “Will you dance with me?” I extended my hand. William looked at me and paused for a while.

But he took it anyway and I pulled him in. I brought his hand to the regular waltz position and we swayed. I made sure are bodies are at full contact. I grounded my hips against his and soon William was donning one of his erections again.

The music wound down a tad and we began dancing the ‘sweet’.

“You’re a very good dancer,” he said.

“You’re not bad yourself.”

“No I really mean it.”

“Well, when you are in my trade, you’d have to.”

“Is that a requirement or could we brush it off as extra,” he said.

“No,” I said, laughing. “I was dancer before,” I added.

“Was? What happened?” he asked.

“Well, we all have to grow up someday, don’t we?” I sighed.

“How did you come to work as an escort, anyway,” he asked.

“I didn’t exactly get a college degree out of it, if that’s what you mean?”

“No, I mean really.”

“Well, I did work as a journalist before—news writer. Then one day, this ho-hum big politician subpoenaed me for being too critical. Before you know it, all the news agencies in the state blacklisted me from their firm. I was out of work. I was hungry and homeless. So I worked for a while in bars for tips. I was still up to my neck in debt and bills so I decided to do something about it—you know, hustle.

During my last day in this bar I worked for, a rich operative, of which, I couldn’t possibly tell you his name, approached me and gave me a job. So here I am, at your service,” I said.

William was quiet.

“I know,” I said, “There’s not much difference, is there? I mean, I’m still hustling.”

“Do you like what you do?” he asked.

“That’s subject to interpretation, isn’t it? I mean, I don’t have much choice. I know people wouldn’t agree with me with that.”

“I agree, I mean—I know how you feel. But you must still want to be somebody someday. Obviously, you can’t do this all your life.”

“I’ll cross that bridge when I get there,” I told him, “I can’t complain though. But I’ve met so many incredible people—good people. When you’ve met enough of them, you’d realize they’re not so different from everyone. They have special needs just like any other…like you,” I said.

I felt William’s hand tighten around mine. His other hand, which was on my waist, pulled me closer to him so he could kiss me. I eagerly kissed him back and more. I kissed his neck, pecked on his Adam’s apple and he hissed with pleasure.

“It’s time,” I said to him.

“Time for what?” he asked.

“We mustn’t forget your wife. Help me take her to the bedroom,” I told him.

“Roberta,” I said, “It’s time.”

“Already?” she said, drowsily.

“You know what I mean,” I said to her and pulled her by the hand gently.

“Oh yes,” she said, “Sex, sex, sex…we’re going to have sex now,” she said, standing like a bamboo swayed by the wind.

William didn’t ask any more questions. He helped steady his wife while I tugged on her towards the bedroom.

We laid her on the bed. I took off her blouse and skirt.

Roberta had delicate skin. She was still a very shapely woman. She still had what it takes to turn on any man. She even wore elegant underwear that accentuated her groins, her hips and her cleavage.

“You’re a fine young man, David,” she groaned, “I wouldn’t have problems doing it with you—not at all,” she added. I smiled at her.

“We’re going to do it together, Roberta. You, William, me—we’re going to do it together,” I said softly.

“Lie down,” I told William.

But he just stood there.

“Lie down with your wife,” I said, pulling his hand and led him to the bed.

I took his shoes off so he wouldn’t strain himself.

I could hear his breathing. He was very nervous.

“Relax,” I told him.

I sat on the edge of the bed and began unbuttoning my shirt. Suddenly, William came behind and helped me take it off. He kissed me on the shoulder.

“God, you smell so good,” he said.

“Take your clothes off,” I said, facing him. “C’mon,” I said, urging him on. I undid the first two of his buttons while he undid the rest.

“How does it work?” he asked, peeling the rest of his clothes off.


“You know, you, me…Roberta,” he said, pulling his pants off.

“We do it together—rather, I show you and you show me,” I said, wearing nothing but my underwear.

William darted his eyes on my crotch. I wasn’t hard yet and so I grazed my fingers along my bulge so I’d start having an erection. William swallowed hard.

“I can’t do this,” he said, “this is crazy—I shouldn’t have agreed to—” he added, shaking his head.

“Ssssshhhh,” I said, “Don’t think.”

I went to him, made him sit and I kneeled in between his knees. I touched his cheek and then kissed him on the lips.

I planted kisses down his neck. I could feel his pulse on my lips. His after-shave, still strong, excited me. I tasted his saltiness, buried my mouth on the hairs of his chest and pinching one of his nipples.

He breathed hard.

“See,” I said, “There’s nothing to it,” I added, standing up so that my crotch was in front of his face.

He closed his hands around my buttocks, squeezing them while pressing his face on my bulge. Behind him, Roberta groaned.

Realizing that I almost forgotten her, I brought William up and I knelt in front of him so I could give him a final fluff. I yanked his shorts gently, making sure his hard-on won't snag on the fabric. When it was fully exposed, I opened my mouth and placed him gently inside. I caressed his head with my tongue by supporting it like a spoon. William threw his head back and placed his hands at the back of my head.

William tasted good. A few drops of his pre-come added flavor to his meat. It told me he was finally ready. I told him to lie back down on the bed.

I went over to the other side where Roberta was.

I started kissing the insides of her thighs and worked my way towards her mound. She felt very warm. She stirred and arched her back.

William swallowed a few times and started stroking his shaft. I kept my eyes on him. His cock was glistening as he rubbed it.

I was now over Roberta’s abdomen, playing with her navel and then finally made my way to her breasts. I was now on top of her.

I reached out for William’s kiss, extending my tongue so he could suck on it. I then went back to Roberta and kissed her, she eagerly welcomed me. Her hands were gently clawing my back. I drew William towards his wife and made them kiss.

“William—your wife,” I said, smiling. I slid off Roberta while William took my place. They kissed, as they ought to— in love and willing. William kept looking at me.

I sat on their love seat, a few feet from the bed. I spread my legs so William could still see me. His eyes never left my cock. And his lovemaking went full speed. He consumed his wife as if he was madly in love.

I began pleasuring my self, pulling on my member slowly. William yanked his wife’s bra, exposing her breasts. He occupied himself with them.

I closed my eyes and began rubbing at my nipples, timing the speed at which William suckled his wife. Roberta made love noises but she was still under the effects of the alcohol she drunk earlier that night.

I spat on my fingers, lubricating them as I rubbed my shaft. Soon, William started to reach down, pulling his wife’s panties to one side. He heaved forward. Roberta moaned hard, clasping her legs around her husband. With each thrust, William grunted, making the veins on his neck bulge. I found myself fingering my ass, timing it with William’s movement on top of his wife.

I was close and perhaps Roberta was too.

I looked at the ceiling, feeling my last moments. I could hear the couple’s grunts, their moans. I found it truly captivating.

Without warning, I spewed like a fountain. Hot fluid splattered across my chest, some landed on my chin.

Roberta screamed as she came. William buried his face on her breasts, breathing hard. His back was glistening with sweat.

I licked my lips, tasting my own come—salty.

Roberta caressed the back of William’s head with her hand. William, still breathing hard, looked at me, smiled and closed his eyes. I closed my eyes too as sleep slowly took over.

It was another job well done.

“How is he?” I said, that day on Central Park.

Roberta was hiding something. She was standing like a reed and yet her stance did not fight the wind.

“He’s fine,” she said, managing to slip in an uneasy smile.

"What about you? Are doing you well?" I asked.

She did not answer. She smiled and kissed me on the lips before whispering goodbye.

Roberta left me there, the cold autumn wind blowing against my face. I looked to the sky and felt rain was coming.

On a bench, a few feet where I was sitting, I picked up a newspaper someone had left behind.

“BUSINESS MOGUL TAKES ON DIVORCE,” the headlines said. “W. Cooper denies gay allegations for split. Wife settles for half,” the lead read.

"Autumn is no season for a spring creature,” I said, sighing. I then walked towards the area of the park
where the trees are still green.

Copyright © 2011 KDave; All Rights Reserved.
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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