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David's Contribution: Andrew and Eric-Chapter 2
Andrew could only say one thing.
"Sure. I understand that. Perhaps another time."
Later that night Eric heard a knock on his unit door and found Andrew at the door. "Forgive me for being obnoxious, but what's your schedule like, say, tomorrow?"
"Funny you should ask. I got a call from the company that is going to do the interview and it's been delayed until Friday. They said they would re-schedule a flight back to Portland on Saturday and extend the per diem allowance and the hotel allowance plus a $300 bonus for the inconvenience of delay."
"To answer your question, after checking my busy schedule (looking through a fake schedule book with a light frown), I'm free tomorrow, totally, radically free."
"What are you doing tomorrow, Andrew?"
"Well, now. This news changes things. Since you haven't had the LA tour, why don't I pick you up, so to speak, at 0600 and I take you to the beach. The freeways shouldn't be too crowded yet."
"Sometime when those freeways are less burdened with 'les autos' we could do lunch and Disneyland, then later in the day as people flock out of LA, we'll flock back in. How does that sound to you?"
"Well, you did ask. I heard nothing about breakfast on that listing."
"Oh, gracious no you didn't. Chico's near the Beach has breakfast burritos that are seriously good. Why don't we stop and eat breakfast there near the beach? Be sure to bring those sexy swimming trunks you wore earlier to the beach tomorrow."
"I didn't wear any, but you probably didn't notice."
"Just kidding. I noticed all right. I may never be the same. Unless we go clear down to Black's Beach, however, one must put some threads on, be they ever so few or humble."
"There's about a thousand shops where a hung dude like yourself can buy the minimum decent garment guaranteed to cause stares and amazement near or on the way to Malibu. My treat?"
"No pressure, but I will say that if I'm buying a swimsuit to cover you, I'm going to pay the minimum required. As the old saying goes, you get what you pay for and I don't want much in this case."
Eric laughed. "You're funny. But this time my per diem will cover it, no pun intended... or I won't buy it. I won't burden you with that cost."
"On the other hand, I don't know how much Disney tickets cost. You may have to float me a loan or tear off a piece of your ticket and throw me over the wall or something," said Eric.
"I'll ask the front desk if they have some kind of bag for you to carry a few clothes around for the day; you don't want to carry a suitcase, that's for sure. Oh, and I'll bring the sunscreen lotion or spray 50%. I can't wait to rub that on you somewhere as often as you might need or want it."
"Thank you, Andrew," replied Eric. "I'll buy a couple of beach towels at one of those beach stores and perhaps a portable Styrofoam cooler and we'll get some ice and cold drinks, now warming to his subject."
"Sure," said Andrew, "I'll bring some cash to eat out once or twice. I'll drive us in my car and if you want to donate ten bucks for gas, you can, or you don't have to."
"I will."
Just then an image of the two of them in front of a minister in formal wear, an audience watching, Eric saying "I will" drilled itself into Andrew's brain like a wonderfully hot knife and his own drill erected itself into glory... tender, swollen, hot...and nearly juicy. He came as close to ejaculation without touching himself as he ever had known possible.
His cock shook, vibrated, felt warm, then he felt warm and a little dizzy, thinking he might pass out, came close, but asked Eric if he might sit down for a second.
Eric led him to the couch, sat Andrew down and pressed Andrew's head to his knees. He'd read somewhere that syncopal episodes (fainting) sometimes responded to that maneuver. Eric didn't forget much.
In that stance, Andrew's head was near Eric's groin. When Andrew became a little more aware, he inhaled the delicious musky fragrance, got a little woozy again and pitched forward just enough so that his nose nuzzled Eric's cock through his pants.
Eric felt the warmth and sustained an instant erection. He didn't want to disengage from Andrew or hurt his feelings, so he dropped his towel and pressed back a little. Andrew told him that he needed to lie down because he, Andrew, was still feeling a little dizzy.
Eric led Andrew to the bed. "Here, lay on this pillow and I'll take these constricting clothes off." Eric removed Andrew's shoes and socks, his pants and shirt and under-gear.
He wondered if Andrew was cold, so he jumped in under the covers with Andrew, behind him on his side with his marble hard cock in Andrew's ass crack and they lay together, still, until midnight.
"Sorry about this cock of mine," said Eric. "The damn thing won't go down."
"Let me help you with that so you can sleep," Andrew replied. He turned over Eric and took Eric's cock into his mouth. His tongue, active and a little rough, stimulated the tip and upper back surface of Eric's cock.
Finally, Eric stiffened and told Andrew he was about to come, then he did. Andrew swallowed all of it."
"I never had anybody do that to me before. I'd read about it but never had...well, nobody..."
"Did you like it, Eric?"
"With you I liked it. Doing what we just did turned out to be pretty personal and you doing it made it special. I haven't known you but a day and already I feel like I'm at home when you are here."
"I know we haven't met," Eric went on, "but I feel close to you...maybe your mouth on my cock did that...I don't think that's all of it, that's for sure. I can see why my mother warned me about guys like you. You could become a habit."
The next morning brought Andrew to the door in a rented, sporty little Mercedes convertible and they loaded Eric's bag into the trunk and headed toward Malibu.
They stopped at Chico's, bought enormous breakfast burritos doubly wrapped with two coffees and churros. The sun wasn't too warm yet early in the morning and the sun was behind them, just coming up over the mountains.
They arrived near a public beach, found a 'beach store' and bought the cooler and ice along with 2 very large beach towels. Andrew pitched in for the cold drinks, brought out the sunscreen lotion and just for fun, bought two pairs of cheap sun-glasses for them to look around discreetly on the beach.
Then Eric found two cheap pairs of thongs (sandals) they just had to have and at a vending machine found cashews and raisins and moist dates for snacks.
They found a great spot, secured it, and Andrew poured the cold lotion on Eric's body and rubbed it into his skin. The favor was returned then, and the men napped for a couple of hours on their beach towels, then awoke, sat up, gazed at each other and the other critters on the beach, some human and decided they had fried enough.
They had eaten their snacks and cold drinks already by ten a.m. and were hungry for lunch by noon.
When they left the beach, they put the top back down and let the wind tousle their hair. Andrews seemed to know the area and found a cafe whose parking lot was full of Jaguars and Mercedes and Lamborghini cars...Eric wasn't sure if Andrew knew that this place was likely to break the bank. He casually made a remark about the fancy cars.
Andrew smiled and said he knew the owner casually and that he always got a good discount when he ate there.
Reassured, Eric went in with Andrew, who put his hand over his mouth for some reason when the maître-d'hôtel saw them, recognized Andrew and was about to speak when he noticed the hand/mouth gesture and simply said, "Welcome back, Andrew."
The maître-d'hôtel passed the word that Andrew himself was here and wanted to be treated absolutely incognito. No wait staff broke the code that afternoon.
Near the end of the meal, Andrew excused himself for a minute and spoke with the maître-d'hôtel, got a nod and he came back to the table. "All paid for."
"Disneyland, here we come."
The parking at Disneyland was thinning out at 1 p.m. for the day as customers were headed home. Andrew found a place not far from the entrance and asked Eric to wait at a kiosk.
Andrew went to the ticket booth and handed his American Express Centurion card to the cashier for two of the finest tickets available. This place took the card.
The two men rode every ride, had their picture taken with every mouse, large and small, rode the railroad, ate their fill, listened to the mother bear singer 'who had lost her wandering boy down by the licensed saloon' and got pummeled with 'it's a small world after all'.
They left for Hollywood, arrived at the hotel, and walked into Eric's room where Eric stripped the covers back, took Andrew's clothes off and down, and after spreading some lube he'd found in the bedside drawer the night before, brought Andrew's legs up, brought his mouth to Andrew's luscious ass and treated it to a relaxing massage with his tongue before plunging his swollen cock into his new friend.
Eric's powerful muscles took control of Andrew's every move, bending him into a pretzel, smoothing him out for a long, deep, slow fuck, then tucking him in for a deep kiss and finally expending what seemed like gallons of cum in Andrew's hole with a final gasp from both men who had just reached a place most men will never reach.
That place was a close, intimate bursting of intense feeling while tightly bonded together, skin to skin, cock in asshole, sticky wonderful cum lubricating the sliding of sensitive skin together, then a deep sleep together, safe, a wishing to protect, to own, to give, to take more, coming back to equilibrium, breathing normally again, hearts and memories cementing for eternity.
Andrew awoke first, the sticky intimate ooze, the essence of Eric, from Eric's own cock, spurted into him as a gift now draining on to the sheet.
He got up and rinsed in the shower after sitting on the commode.
He remembered the cleansing rinse of the bidets of Paris and thought this hotel, when he bought it one day in gratitude for the memory it gave him, would get bidets in every bathroom.
Eric stirred, a little cooler without Andrew beside him and in the cooler part of evening anyway with a tiny breeze coming in the slightly parted window.
He opened his eyes, judged the time of day to be early evening with long sunny shadows outside, birds singing.
His cock felt exercised.
He slipped out of bed and found Andrew in the shower, got in beside him, then behind him and with a rough shove, pushed his swollen cock in, rooting deep into Andrew who moaned his delight and stuck out his ass toward Eric as if to say, "Take me stud, own this, I lift it up to make both your entrance into me and ownership of this piece of me... easier for you."
The next day, both slept in until 8 a.m., talked about sex, Eric thinking that sex was now the best thing he knew about if Andrew was his partner, that is.
He couldn't imagine dipping into any other guy and began to realize the bond he was forming and how temporary it was going to be and being human began to withdraw a little, wanting as we all do to avoid pain and hurt, a toddler priority built into our adult psyche just as the need for food.
"I wonder if we'll see other again after this week," Eric mused out loud as they dressed for the day.
"I hope so," said Andrew. "I just found the guy that likes me and my cute butt too. What's not to like? We'll work it out."
Eric hoped so too but didn't have all the facts at that point. Andrew continued, "There are some things about me that you might not like if you knew me better, anyway."
Eric had no idea how that could be. His concept of things was that you found the guy and that was it. Then he was your man, warts or not.
Andrew had the idea that one scientifically went about finding the guy and somehow convinced him to love you for you, with him not knowing a crucial, major part of what made you what you were.
The two men weren't far apart; they were light-years apart in every way except the sexual attraction and 'like' they had instantaneously sensed.
They walked down Hollywood Boulevard the next morning, a mixture of seedy, ancient and glorious, a parade of men in places parading for other men, either on the street or in cruising cars, a surprising number of decent diners/cafes where in the back bathrooms business of a hundred different types was conducted.
Sales work, business deals, sex, selling of sex, real estate, legit and shady both, nothing new. everything old, breakfast wonderful in places.
They ate until they couldn't down another bite. Scrambled eggs, hash browns, fried Spam, fried pineapple slices, fresh orange juice, Colombian coffee, grilled everything, thick chocolate with reduced, thick coconut milk and cinnamon, crisp fried cinnamon rolls with melted butter and icing.
The afternoon nap turned out to be a real nap followed by a naked swim with 'the boys' good-naturedly fending off repeated offers of group therapy.
These pools had grottos of the main pool like caves, lined with alcoves with thick, soft rubber pads, perfect for a semi-public tryst, an outdoor, daylight semi-visible fuck that brought visitors to watch the action and sometimes join in.
Eric didn't want that; Andrew didn't want it either.
Eric asked Andrew if he would go out with him that night, destination a surprise. The event was Chopin's Piano Concerto #1 with a young Russian virtuoso pianist and the Philharmonic.
Eric had guessed the formal wear sizes and rented two tuxedos and black ties and white shirts with the cuff jewelry. The tickets were in the gasper's gallery just under the back roof but the two held hands and could hear enough to be happy.
That night Eric and Andrew whispered to each other by the pool, then in the pool, then a fragrant flowing plant welcomed them to a grotto, unoccupied, open to the water, but no other men were in the pool so their coupling went unobserved except for the angels smiling in and above the water, the water faeries, and the ceramic fat frog in the corner, staring off across the grotto, catching the drips.
"My interview is tomorrow, Andrew. I'll probably not see you again. Do you live here in LA? I'm sorry. I've been so caught up in myself that I didn't ask you before about you or your family. Where are you from? What do you do? What do you like? Where have you been?"
"Can I see you again? Andrew, please, I'll give up the job or you can take it if you want it. I just have to see you and be with you, please... "
Eric didn't beg. He came close but didn't. When Andrew looked down and didn't answer, Eric realized that he'd missed his chance, that the guy he'd grown to regard as family, a brother, a lover, a friend was slipping out and away, he suffered unbearable grief and said no more, pretending a cheer he didn't feel.
A car and driver came for Eric the next morning. He arrived at Hollywood Casting Services and met Sai who brought him back to an office marked Vihaan Raj, the owner of the company apparently. When Sai asked if he wanted coffee or tea or biscuits, Eric politely declined, a hurt shining from his eyes that Sai recognized fully and gratified him to see, for such a temporary hurt spoke to the loss of a bond that spoke to a successful match, a respectable career in Mumbai, especially at a million dollars per encounter.
Beyond that, Sai could see farther than Eric down the years. He left Eric to his thoughts and returned to his desk. There Andrew stood, tears in his eyes, shaking a little. Sai opened his arms and gave Andrew a brief, brotherly squeeze. "It goes well, I think. He waits for his bereavement."
He pointed to the door. "Enter and take him slowly, Andrew."
Andrew opened the door and strode in like the sun to see Eric's stunned eyes meet his in disbelief, a sob escaping his chest and Eric's too as they met in the middle of the room. "Why are you here, Andrew?"
"Your interview is with me, Eric. You are the guy for me. I need you to know more than my ass. I want you to know all about me and where I need to go and the guy I need to go with me through life. This interview is yours... to ask me what you want to know, to ask me about the things that may give you pause. I'll tell you the truth, Eric. Just don't stop asking me, please. I couldn't take that from you. You can have anything I have, but don't give up on me, please."
Eric asked Andrew to sit down and take a load off. He asked him where he grew up, who his parents were, whether they were in his life, whether he loved them, whether they loved him, what their greatest gift to him had been, if they knew where he was, his favorite food and drink as a child, his tastes in music and the arts, how he treated people, how he wanted to treat people, whether he had siblings, and when all that and more had been steadily answered, none of it familiar to him, he thought of another question but hesitated to ask.
"Andrew, I would like to know sometime what your education was and why?" Andrew replied.
"Andrew, this makes no difference to me one way or another, but are you poor?" Andrew began to cry again.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to cause you pain."
"It's not that. The answer I must give you scares me a lot. I'm afraid you'll not want me or think differently about me because of that answer and that frightens me."
"I've been poor for a long time, Andrew, and I'm OK. I'm not unhappy now and don't care if I ever have money. It just doesn't matter to me. Not a bit. You matter to me though and I don't want you to be afraid about anything."
Eric went on, "After you share whatever it is with me, you won't be frightened anymore. So just say it. Count on me, man. You can do it."
Andrew stood. He told Eric that his parents were wealthy. As it happened, they had more money than any other family in the world, by far. It would all be his when they passed on. His eyes, like a hawk, watched Eric's face carefully draw into a mask.
"Except that one, Eric yelled loudly! I wouldn't marry a rich guy if he paid me. I'm out of here!" He turned to leave, glanced over at his suffering lover and smiled and burst into hysterics, then they were in each other's arms.
"Dipshit."
"Fuckwad."
Sai, at his desk, heard a thumping noise coming from Vihaan's office. His mind quickly jumped back a number of years to the Mumbai brothel for men, the janitor closet, the scent of cleaning solvents, the cries of men loving men, the smell of sweat and incense, spices, the semi-tonal Indian scales that he loved, that comforted him, playing in the background. He remembered Vihaan, his enormous cock, slipping it to Sai under him on the floor, wondering if the door was locked, not caring, not being able to see the future precisely, but knowing this was the man for him.
Sai smiled and returned to his paperwork.
All was good.