NEVER
DOWN AND UP
Sleep With A Porcupine
Walt's eyes had been locked with the stranger's since he offered the lighter. His eyes now burned into Walt's soul saying things, promising pleasures, bringing images that Walt was sure he had forgotten spilling out into the twilight.
"You know it's not safe to roam the streets of gay Ol' New York at night," said the man in black, his voice a low rumbling bass.
"I'm just heading down there, to the St. Piere." Walt motioned over his shoulder at the hotel sign blinking two blocks away.
"That's a swell place, but expensive. I can offer you accommodations. I'm sure you'll find them both enjoyable and worth the price."
The hand on his waist grasped and applied a gentle but firm pulling motion. In seconds they were face to face with the black clad body pressed against Walt from mid-torso down.
Removing the cigarette the stranger exhaled through his nose down between the inch separating their chests. Then, reaching over Walt's shoulder, he flicked the ash behind Walt. Slowly bringing his hand back he offered the cigarette to Walt. "Want a drag. You don't have to suck it if you're not use to . . . " A dramatic pause lingered between them. His eyes twinkled as he finished. " . . . inhaling."
"Thanks, I don't smoke. Just carry a lighter for my friends that do," Walt tried to keep his voice calm as he replied.
"We could be friends, friend. What's your name, friend? I'm Chuck. Rhymes with fuck."
Walt was intrigued but felt it would be better to not be too open about himself. "I'm Matt," he said. It just came out without any planning.
"Interested in my offer, Matt? You shouldn't have a problem paying me." Chuck shifted on his feet letting his crotch rub across Walt's. They could feel each other's excitement. Then he backed away.
The loss of contact shot through Walt. He reached out and touched Chuck's arm. What was he doing?? This was irresponsible madness. But . . . as Chuck smiled and turned Walt let the black phantom lead him away. When they passed through shadows a firm hand griped Walt's elbow bringing him in tow as if Chuck feared he might disappear in the darkness.
Each time Chuck touched him a jolt coursed through his body. He had lost control and struggled to gain it back. "That's not necessary," he hissed as he jerked his arm away at the next dim spot.
"Easy, friend, just don't want you to get lost. It's a big city."
"Damn it, I know, I live here."
"We-e-e-e-e-ll, and I thought you were a visitor to our fair city. You cruise back there often, Matt?"
"You've got the wrong impression of me. I wasn't cruising."
"Why'd you stop? You made it obvious you were interested."
Walt admitted, "You reminded me of someone. You're impressive and I wanted to meet you. Look, Chuck that rhymes with fuck, being honest, I wanted to see what would happen. I'm not into this on a regular basis. I'm really not into it at all. Are we near your place?"
"Guess what, we're here!" Chuck turned into a dark alley. "Right down here, Matt, baby."
Walt froze on the walk trying to see into the alley. A shiver of apprehension started cooling the sexual heat that had mounted in his body. Then, a door opened and light flooded the blackness. Chuck stood silhouetted in the doorway.
"Come on. We're home, Matt."
They entered the freight elevator standing by the big overhead door that contained the one through which they gained access to the building. Chuck punched the top button. "Third floor. Land of dreams, kingdom of ecstasy, floor of fantasy, the loft of love." He gave Walt an impish grin. "Home of the homo-sex-you-all heaven."
When the gates of the elevator parted Walt was in awe. The full top floor glistened with hardwood floors reflecting a stark white ceiling, walls and support columns. Factory-like fluorescent fixtures made it bright as day where they stood. Every visible wall space was broken by art and photos in bright red, blue, orange and green frames. They all appeared to be studies of Chuck, in double exposures, in the nude, in compromising scenes. Bright fabric hangings broke the loft into spaces, repeating the colors from the frames.
Immediately in front of the elevator was a lounging, living space with a giant white phallus on a pedestal in the middle. White canvas directors chairs and white Naugahyde semicircular sofas sat around the statuary with a scattering of white plastic side tables.
Each table seemed to strain under a covering jumble of ash trays, books, magazines and personal items that made it clear this was a place used for living. The few items of clothing scattered on the floor and on one of the sofas emphasized the point.
"Entree vous." Chuck bowed and salaamed.
"Chuck, that you?" hollered a voice from the far left.
Walt again felt a rush of apprehension, stepped back holding the elevator gates open.
"Never fear, Matt, me bucko. That's my brother Dick, rhymes with prick you know. There's nothing to fear with him. If you like my looks and I remind you of someone. Well, you just doubled your pleasure . . . "
A hand pulled back the green hanging from behind which the questioning voice had emanated and a duplicate of Chuck strode into view.
" . . . doubled your fun," finished Chuck.
It hit Walt immediately. He knew he was standing in the same room with the two boys, now men, that had been in that photo at the cabin. That's why Chuck had caught his eye. That's why Matt's name came out without thinking. Walt grew weak at the knees. He again was seeing that photo. His eyes roamed over Dick and Chuck from head to groin to toe. It was them. It had to be them.
"Wow, I must be dreaming," he whispered.
He let the elevator gates clang shut and walked into the room. He went over to Dick and laid a hand on his bare shoulder as if to verify he was flesh, turned and approached Chuck.
"I'm real. Remember, we've already touched, a number of times," Chuck said with a chuckle.
"I know you guys. I've got your picture, a picture of you, a picture with both of you in it." It was clear Walt was flustered.
"I'm sure that can be explained," said Dick. "We're in a lot of pictures as you can see." He pointed at the paintings, sketches and photographs that adorned the walls. "That's all us," he said.
The low but insistent ring of a telephone came from behind the green hanging. Dick excused himself. Chuck started showing Walt the layout of the loft. The green on the left divided off the kitchen-eating area. A roll top desk, file cabinet and phone with Dick busy talking and taking notes filled one corner. Sky blue on the right divided off a giant bedroom gym combination with bright yellow cutting off the far third.
"That's the bath, with a shower and built in sauna," said Dick as he rejoined them pointing to the yellow wall. They were in the middle of the gym area. The bed, a super king, was against the far wall with a giant print of Walt's fantasy photo hanging over it.
"That's it! That's the photo," Walt exclaimed as he turned and saw the display.
Dick explained the hunk being fucked at both ends was their dad. Walt dropped his jaw in amazement. He was astonished to hear them discuss their father in such candor.
"It's a long story, but I'll try the condensed version, Matt," said Chuck.
He quickly outlined the family background. Mom dies giving them birth. She was 17, dad 19. Dad was an orphan, never accepted by her family. They blamed him for her death and tried to take the boys away. Dad took them and they all three vanished. He had been propositioned by a porn producer, couldn't find work to support them so he went to California. Started acting in blue movies at age 20. Ended up a big star in both heterosexual and homosexual skin flicks. Never hid how he made his money.
The phone interrupted and Chuck went to answer it. Dick took up the story. He noted that they had always believed dad to be a true bisexual. "He just loves getting it on. Sex is his thing," Dick stated with a touch of pride.
He continued. They joined dad in the business when they were seventeen after becoming sure and convincing him they were gay. They became big stars on their own by the time they no longer needed to lie about their ages. That photo was from one of only three sessions where they worked with their dad. It was the first shoot he allowed them; their introduction to the business.
"I think he was trying to scare the hell out of us with that type of heavy action scene. But, it didn't work . It was an erotic thrill being turned on by the old man. When it was over he gave us his blessing, telling us we were ready for anything."
"We're sort of out of the movie, photo, art study shit now," added Chuck who had returned. "Most of our income is percentages from stuff we did and kept control over, thanks to business lessons from dad and a dear friend. The rest of the money comes from our call boy ring."
"I would guess that Chuck initially got you up here to see if you wanted to join up," said Dick.
"Still a possibility. Matt's got the looks. He claims he's not into male sex things, but he doesn't seem too uncomfortable with all he's seen and heard here. Right, brother?"
Walt grinned at them. "Slow down, fellas. I did know I was being solicited, but a call boy ring? You mean there really are guys that sell their services? Boy, I guess I've still got a lot to learn." Walt was dazzled by all the stimuli assaulting him. Physical and mental pictures whirled like a kaleidoscope with him in the middle, slowly spinning.
Chuck lead him back to the sofas. Dick filled their drink orders and then returned to the kitchen area, the phone was ringing again. They relaxed. Chuck described the operation. It was all handled by phone. That explained the interruptions that had been occurring since Walt arrived. Their stable of studs lived in their own apartments and either entertained there or visited the client at his hotel or home. Everything was prepaid. They had started small, just arranging with friends to handle the extra tricks that came their way.
"Things just kept growing," noted Dick, back from phone duty. He smirked at Walt. "You know how that is, Matt." He was zeroed in on the bulge evident below Walt's belt line. Walt shifted and rearranged himself to relieve the discomfort of his clothes. He was excited, but anxious for more information.
"What kind of money are you talking about, for a guy who does just that -- selling himself for sex?"
Walt was amazed at the range of figures the brothers presented. It was in line with his current salary at the low end and unbelievable at the extreme. He admitted it sounded tempting but, becoming honest, he explained his satisfaction wit the challenge of what he did for a living. Feeling comfortable, he even backed out of the lie about his name and told them why he was currently without a place of his own.
In a way he couldn't explain he felt at home, unthreatened, sitting amidst the lush luxury of their high tech pad. A lot was because he felt he had know these two before and because they seemed equally relaxed with him.
Before daylight the brothers had offered Walt their hospitality on a temporary basis, until he was able to locate a place of his own that he really wanted. This conversation was held in the giant king bed as the three of them casually explored the sexual options available to three young, well endowed males with stamina and surging hormones. There were no phone breaks. Chuck noted that they let their answering service take call backs after eight when most arrangements for the night should have been made. The service would ring through only on a select list of clients regardless of when these gentlemen called.
Over the weekend they lounged nude around the loft, jumping in and out of bed in twos and threes, between the twins taking calls and passing on assignments. Occasionally they coupled or fell into a heated three-way mass of taut muscles and clutching limbs in the middle of the floor.
Walt wasn't able to explain to himself why it all seemed so natural, why he slid so easily back into what he had considered a depravity that he had fought since leaving home. He didn't feel lost, without control. He was floating on a cloud of new and remembered ecstatic enjoyment. Well, I guess I know who and what I really am, he mused.
Back at the job, Walt continued climbing. He tested himself with the challenge of seducing a female decision maker who had her own views of what Walt's team should produce for her firm. With the ease of his success he was even more sure of his ability to control situations with charm and, if necessary, sexual overtones or discreet acts. Within less than a year he was being considered for a senior position as assistant to the Creative Director. Walt was confident he could have her job within another twelve months.
He was still friends with the brothers. They had helped him find and move into his own apartment a month after they met. The three of them occasionally got together to catch up on happenings in their different worlds. They seldom engaged in any sexual gymnastics as wild as that they had the first night. There was a warm friendship that had developed between them. It was a bond that allowed them to turn to each other for comfort and understanding, through a night of hot sex or just with a hug and an ear willing to listen.
At the agency Christmas party Walt was enchanted by an older women he met who mysteriously seemed to know a lot about him. They spent a good part of the early evening on a love seat talking. He felt he was being challenged to prove he was as good as the rumors about him. There was also a tinge of doubt about his manhood implied in a comment she made that he must obviously enjoy working so closely with Elmer Patterson on the Alistone account. She seemed to relish making Walt keep the conversation going as he attempted to determine who she was and how she knew so much. Realization came instantly when the agency founder and now Chairman of the Board came up behind them and started kidding her about monopolizing Walt.
"I'm sure our bright new star would appreciate being set free to chase across the firmament, particularly when so many firm young things are available for chasing."
They all three chuckled. Now knowing who he was dealing with Walt turned up the charm. He told her he didn't want to compromise her so he was going to circulate for a while. He bounced back to her side a number of times as she moved around the room making her presence known. She caught him off guard when fairly late in the evening she was the one to make the overture. He teasingly agreed to a meeting in the executive lounge. Then it hit him that she was totally serious. He looked at her in amazement.
She said she would make her excuses and leave the party first. She had come to town just for the party with her own car. Her husband was staying in town as there was a meeting with the bankers scheduled for early the next morning. Walt deliberately picked a fight with Jerry and left soon afterwards. Climbing the back stairs he began to have second thoughts about how sane an idea it was to have this assignation. She was fascinating, healthy and willing. But, was this the right time or place to get involved with someone in her position. He had made up his mind to cut his losses by pretending this was just a flirtation when he opened the door to the lounge.
Before he could make his planned speech she engulfed him in her arms and was kissing him with such ardor he found it impossible not to respond. Her hands were all over his rear and groping his front. She had his pants down around his knees and his organ in her mouth by the time the door clicked shut. Eager to please and considering this might be the quickest way to get things over with he lifted her up to his lips again. He shuffled forward backing her across the room and fell with her onto one of the sofas. He shook his pants off his legs, repositioned her below him and moved her skirt up and out of the way as he reached to remove her panties.
His hand moved across bare flesh as she whispered his name and urged him on. With her assistance he mounted her and began pistoning in and out. With a crash the door flew open and the overhead lights blinked bright. Jerry and the Chairman strode across the room. Ducking the roundhouse swings of a very irate husband Walt scrambled to get his pants and pull them on. Jerry stood watching with a triumphant and gleeful grin and started laughing.
"Goodbye, Walter, baby. We're going to miss you, darling. I'll give your regards to Jo Beth," he said chuckling.
Knowing there was no way to extricate himself with charm or sex this time Walt went right from the lounge to his desk and quickly packed up any personal things. It was a small box. He knew better than to touch anything he had worked on for the agency. His employment contract made all that agency property. He doubted there would be any public scandal over what had happened but he knew there would be criminal charges if he took one scrap of agency material.
After nearly twenty four hours of boozy self recrimination and self pity Walt turned up at the brothers' loft. They got him out of his funk, forcing him to tell the story and making him see the absurd humor in the experience. They ended up howling as they replayed the roles in Walt's farewell performance at BBJJ.
Chuck and Dick got him a lead to a job at a small agency. The owner was an elderly gay friend of the brothers. "Manny is the one that helped get us started. We owe him almost as much as we owe dad," Chuck explained.
At his first meeting with Manny Rosenbaum Walt felt much as he did with the brothers: acceptance as a person, no pressure in a warm, comfortable, relaxing atmosphere. Manny talked to Walt like a Dutch uncle letting him know his reputation had preceded him. Not from anything revealed by Chuck or Dick. The word was out and circulating rapidly through the advertising old boy network.
"All the good press you were building for yourself and the fact that you were a budding creative talent is water under the bridge, boy. It's yesterday's newspaper in the bottom of the bird cage. You're going to have to start all over. Did you think people wouldn't talk? You made enemies, and foolish mistakes. Now listen carefully. All I want is job performance, no sex. You're not my type anyway, boy. But, I also don't want you trying to screw or charm your way through an assignment. This agency is small enough I'll know if you try anything. You do and you're out the door and for sure finished in this town. What you do, who you do on your own time, as long as they are not tied to your job here, is your own business. Do we have an agreement?"
Walt nodded, cowed.
Manny continued. "Then you can start tomorrow, same basic position and salary. We only have two teams, not twenty like BBJJ, but we'll keep you busy. You're replacing a talented man who's decided to spend more time on the agency's administrative details -- me. So remember, I can always replace you."
Walt took Manny at his word. He settled in and buckled down to do the best job possible. Someone still had faith in him. He was going to do his utmost to prove that faith had not been misplaced.
Two years after his first meeting with Manny Walt celebrated with the twins. He was grateful for their support and their referral to Manny. He brought them matching wrist watches with sapphires at 12, 3, 6, and 9 inscribed 'for being, thanks, W'.
Manny promoted Walt to Creative Director in his third year. He now went to Walt for opinions on almost all aspects of running the agency. They often stayed late over a spread delivered from the deli to argue out both creative and operational decisions. Walt was learning from Manny much more than he had learned at BBJJ. They were a team. If Walt hadn't looked so goym people would have taken them for father and son.
A major publishing house with corporate offices in the city and other editorial operations in Boston, San Francisco and Kansas City became a client based on some local but innovative work Walt had done. They wanted a total commitment, and requested that Manny send Walt to visit their operations sites. They expected their new agency to know and understand their business and the differences between editorial staffs. The marketing head told Manny it wouldn't be enough to just review their published output for the past few years.
"We are growing, changing. There has been a big push to bring new talent in to all four editorial groups. We want to reflect where we are going as a publishing house not where we have been," he told Walt when Manny brought them together.
Walt must have soaked up the right view of things during his whirl wind visits. Within eight months the agencies work for Greentree Publishing had won two national print media awards. The nominations announced shortly after then for the prestigious advertising Clios included the Greentree campaign as best institutional television campaign from which two spots were also nominated as best single ad. It was one of the few times in memory that two spots from a single campaign were so honored.
To the astonishment of no one, except Walt, they won both the campaign and single spot honors. The resulting addition of two more major accounts strained the creative resources of the agency. Manny and Walt were forced to review and revise their organization. Selecting from the best talent they could find they built a third creative group.
Walt was now back on top of the heap as a hot new talent. He knew he had finally rebuilt his professional reputation when Manny walked into his office and threw a copy of 'Advertising Age' on his desk.
"Check page five, boy. You're now famous," he said, beaming.
The nearly full page article, with quotes from Manny, Greentree's President and two competitors for last year's Clios, profiled Walter as one of advertising's youngest, brightest and most creative newcomers.
- o o o -
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