Roué

Chapter 7 - Knock, knock, knockin' on Harold's door

Chapter 7 – Knock, knock, knockin’ on Harold’s door

Chapter Songs – Suit & Tie - Justin Timberlake ft. Jay Z | Lover, You Should’ve Come Over - Jeff Buckley (song that inspired the scene at the end)

‘You ready, JT?’ was the opening to Justin Timberlake’s Suit & Tie. And I sure was ready as I’ll ever be as I wore a dapper suit complete with black tie. Now, this would be your cue to play the song should you be reading this online. If you noticed, what my horny author BigDaddyBamBam likes doing is adding tracks to every chapter in each book. Well, not in the case of Back Alley Cats (check it out yow). So um, yeah, play the song if you have it, or pay for the song on iTunes® if you feel like contributing a few dollars to the music industry. Or you could just rip them off altogether by downloading the track for free like a good ole pirate. Lol.

Oh? What is that I hear? Someone wants some smexy time? Just hang in there. I’ve a story to tell first. Anyway, if it’s proving difficult to gird your loins, just look at my pictures from previous chapters, then cuddle up to your phone and set it on vibrate (O.O)/ EL-OH-EL! Just kidding.

Now, why would I be wearing a suit & tie? Well, Collin had a job for me. I know, I know, it didn’t go well the last time, and I sure knew that this one wouldn’t be right either. But what could I do? I was living below the demarcation line. I was poverty central. It wasn’t like I was shitting money. I got bills and rent to pay. So um, yeah, I acted accordingly and decided to take the job from my dear old friend Collin Cade.

Oh God my life sucked. I was a twenty-two year old, soon to be twenty-three, Miami douche who’d never had formal education or health insurance under my horny belt. Hence, I scrounged for work anywhere and anyplace I could.

And with hesitation, now more than ever given my devotion to Harold, I was to embark yet again on a sexcapade to breed money for the two of us. I haven’t told him about this gig. Though, in one of our conversations he did mention that he’d want me out of the s*x trade. Honestly, I’m conflicted. What do you guys think?

Harold’s just eighteen and a bit idealistic. I understood his reasons for wanting me to get out. If I were in his shoes, I too wouldn’t want my man to screw another. Buuuttt … and this is a big but, considering I didn’t have many alternatives – I needed this job to bulk on savings … and that’s it. I mean, I wanted a smooth transition once I did get out, you know? As smooth as the lapel I was ironing with my hand right now.

And as I contemplated on all these thoughts, I forgot that Collin was standing right behind me, “What ya listenin’ to?” he asked.

“Justin Timberlake’s Suit & Tie.”

“That’s cool man. That’s cools.”

I knew that Collin felt bad for sending me to those mean girls the other night. I forgave him because he didn’t know about their pissing ritual. Goddammit, I could still feel the warm liquid trickle over my forehead whenever I took a shower. Ugh. I’d cringe whenever I remembered.

With a look of prostration, he made to speak with careful tact, “So um, yeah, this job is gon’ be your last, man. So don’t worry. I’d take this foh sho, but then I thought of you and how you needed the money. So she’s waiting—”

I cut him off and pressed a hand over his chest, “Wait up. Hold up. Back up. A woman?” I didn’t understand why I was surprised. Surely it was better that I did a woman instead of a man. It would hurt Harold more if I were to fool around with a rich twink or an old geezer. A committed man like I was would not have s****l congress with other men. That was a clear-cut rule, plain and simple. It just wouldn’t feel right. I loved Harold. But then if you examined my situation, it still didn’t look right. It wasn’t any less detestable. I just hoped that Harold would understand.

Collin drummed my cheeks with light taps, his attempt to somehow bring me back to Earth, “Are you on drugs man?” He examined my eyes, propping my lids to completely open, “Seriously, it’s like you floated to the Universe. Which planet did you go to?” I didn’t recognize that I was in a long stupor. I was thinking of Harold.

I snapped from my daze and gave little ole Collin a look of daggers, a piercing stare that was sharp enough to cut through the molecules of cosmic air between us, “Ur-anus, man … I went to planet Ur-anus and f****d your shit.”

“Bwahahahahaggkk! Orrgghhkkk … Aahhaack! Oh man, that’s f*****g rich. Oh God, f**k me…” He laughed out loud. I didn’t think it was funny, but okay then.

“Hey Collin, seriously though, this’ll be the last one for me. You hear?”

He stopped laughing and closed his mouth. It felt like he sucked all the oxygen in the atmosphere, “I understand Matt. You really like Harold huh?” He composed his bearings then readjusted my tie to make me look the part of a dapper gentleman / hoe.

“I love him like my next breath, man. I just…”

I trailed off. I didn’t know what to say. All I could think about was amassing enough money to somehow jumpstart a new beginning with my Har-har. I loved my Har-har so much. I’d give up my soul for him. I’d do anything to give him a good life, that’s how much he meant to me.

There was always an ache that hit me square in the chest whenever I thought of Harold leaving me, but at the same time I needed to forgive myself because my finances and circumstances were very bleak. Add the health condition I needed to contend with. Strangely though, it had subsided these past few weeks. I don’t know what Harold did to me, but he somehow … I couldn’t explain it. All I knew was that the dizzy spells and palpitations have mellowed down since I met him.

“I really appreciate the help Coles. I really do. I don’t know how you do it man. I mean, you go f**k men and women, but then come home at night to Lelana. Isn’t that like cheating on her?”

He squeezed my necktie up till it felt snug and tight below my Adam’s apple, “Gotta have money to live man. Not really a choice, but a decision made out of convenience,” he sighed, forlorn.

The reality of it made me feel sad. Collin had been doing this for quite some time now. I’d only been in a few projects and house calls. I guess money was a pull he couldn’t resist, especially in an economy such as ours, “You and Lelana have enough to start somewhere else. Have you guys talked about moving?” I wanted to know what predicament he had.

“We did man. But this is home, you know? We don’t leave home.”

I gave his words thought and understood the logic, even if I knew that my brain cells could hardly sustain steady neural activity, “Yeah. We never leave home.”

The Palms Hotel and Spa, down at Collins Avenue Miami Beach, was where I found myself. I sat on one of the barstools under the roof tavern. Their tiki bar had this tropical poolside setting. The whole vibe was completed by the swinging palm trees, soothing ocean breeze, and flowers from the tropical gardens. It was a horny man’s paradise, but with a touch of supreme class.

The whole vibe reminded me of where I was, where I belonged … Miami. A place I grew up loving. I guess Collin was right. This was home.

I stood and decided to finish my cocktail in one of the sturdier and less wobbly looking hammocks. I’d never been invited to a fancy hotel before. This was a first for me. I wasn’t used to such finery and decadence. I was just a small man with big dreams. I wished that it was Harold who was here with me. I really love him.

“Hey,” whispered a new voice from an old soul.

I stood at the ready, and then pressed my sweaty palm against my pants before going for a handshake. She took my hand, giggled, and then swept her long curled blonde hair sideways, exposing an outline of a neck so beautiful that I swore it almost made my heart stop. She looked like a swan with her light and fluffy white dress. The fabric was sheer and quite distracting. Her sleeves ended where her wrists were. It made her look fragile and sultry. I knew she was heck of a lot older than I was, Collin said so. But she didn’t look a day over twenty-five. She had this youthful exuberance that was mesmerizing.

Feeling the warmth of my hand in hers, she quickly pulled back. She caressed her left elbow, and then tilted her head sideways. Her body language looked really coy and utterly mystifying, “I was told that Jake is your name, was it?”

That was my fake name. I became an honorary member of the Miami Edged Golden Club for being legendary. I was the topmost, bestselling man of all time, thanks to my Man on Edge video. As incentive, they had me change my screen name. I didn’t know how changing my stage name qualified as a reward but yeah, I just went with it. Besides, it wasn’t the only incentive. They also gave me extra dough for all the attention the website had been getting. I guess my red-headed monster was an online smash hit.

“Um,” We now stood a good two meters away from each other, yet it felt like she was at arm’s length. I tried again, “Aahmm…” Where was my tongue? Damn, she made me a nervous wreck.

She stepped forward to hook an arm around my elbow, “You look really good, Jake. Shall we?”

Why did this feel so wrong? I felt like I was about to sin on Harold. I didn’t know what to do.

Junior Suite, up at the highest level of the Palms Hotel and Spa, was where we found ourselves. It had all the things that could pamper a business-type woman like her – a work station, a sitting area, a balcony overlooking the Miami Beach cityscape, a 32” flat screen plasma, orthopedic pillow-top mattresses, 400 thread count Egyptian cotton bed linens, lightweight comforters, WIFI, and even a special order of hypoallergenic pillows. Jeezus. She paid a good $600 for a one-night stay. It made me feel like an expensive f**k.

I was quick to frequent the fully-stocked private bar to down some liquid courage. She made me nervous with all the preparation and shiz. I was gulping like a guppy as I regurgitated one expensive shot of whiskey after another. If my heart was going to speed, then might as well down it with the priciest bottles of scotch and brandy.

With a heavy sigh indicating my readiness, I turned to her. She sat on the edge of the bed, her long index finger swiping the screen of a Nexus tablet. I made to ask, “Um … what are you doing?” I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

Her starry, starry eyes gazed at me underneath hyper-extended but classy-looking lashes, “I’m reading In the name of the Father on w*****d,” she murmured, clearly waiting on me to make the first move.

“w*****d? Seriously?” I scratched my head. And no you pervies, not the one below. This time it’s the actual head on top between my two shoulders.

She tilted her head to the side, “What!? I’m bored as f**k,” Okay, I didn’t expect an attitude.

Her reaction was a surprise. I thought she’d be the eloquent type, with all the goddessy-looking ensemble and shiz. I guess she hid a succubus inside her. Just like most women that I knew.

With a quirked smile, she stood up, and then carefully unfurled her layers of fabric in front of me. Bile rose to my chest at the thought of having s*x with a woman. I didn’t understand why I was feeling this way, when clearly I did a lot of women even before I met Harold. I took a calming breath and then acted on a question that nagged at me since I saw her. I just had to ask, “May I know your age, Miss?”

“It’s Charlie. And I’m forty.”

I must’ve looked like a fool with my mouth hanging open. Oh man, she could possibly be the most beautiful fossil alive.

She slinked her way towards me in all her nakedness. I squirmed inward as she grabbed and rubbed my bulge. Her one hand cupped my prized possession while the other unbuckled my belt, “Why? I don’t look my age huh?” Her grip on my dingus tightened. Her eyes were ripe with need and steaming lust.

She licked the shell of my ear. I felt a stab of carnal desire shoot up my spine, which rapidly fell like a harpoon straight to my nether regions, spearing all thought and reason of why this would be wrong. The excitement bubbled and foamed in my underbelly. I was hard and deeply aroused.

“I like the taste of youth. You look really tasty, Jake. Can I have my fill now?” She dropped to her knees to service me.

I was all nerves as I babbled the words that followed, “Yes Ma’am. I’m yours for the taking.”

“That’s a good boy.”

She sat on my naked body and I felt extreme discomfort. And it wasn’t physical discomfort either. It was emotional. I felt like I was losing bits of Harold the more she f****d my member. My legs dangled by the side of the bed as she bounced on top of me. I was crying from the inside but I didn’t let it show.

She held her pelvic muscles as she pushed herself down onto my hard on. She said I was too big for her, and that it hurt each time she went down. Thus, she had to support her underbelly with her hands pushing down. The thought of her bleeding scared me. Ugh. My size might cause a rip inside her inner walls.

Jeezus. I felt myself near orgasm every three minutes, but she had a mind to slow down whenever I got close. She was milking me like a cow. Stretching what was supposedly a quick f**k. I was badly hurting from the inside for my heart wasn’t with her, it was with Harold’s.

I was in heat and sweating everywhere. It had been a while since I had a woman. And she was quite the tight one too. It was hard to replace her image with that of Harold’s because of how plump her breasts were. Her dampness was extraordinary as well. Her slick heat was very tight.

Her movement was pushing her dangerously close to the edge of the bed. I was doing my best to anchor her with my arms for she kept bobbing back, completely lost in the feeling of my manhood inside of her, “Charlie, would you please slow down. You’re going to fall off the bed.”

I kept telling her to scoot further up the mattress so as not to lose ground, but she kept riding backwards, dragging me along with her. With my dingus as her divining rod, she impaled and maneuvered around every inlet. I didn’t need first class tickets or a tour guide to explore her amazons. She was an expert with anacondas. Her expertise was constriction and being on top.

Her rotations and oscillations were mind-blowing, “Do you have a girlfriend? Is she clingy?”

I kept my mouth shut. She didn’t have to know about Harold. Oh God, my Harold, my boyfriend. Pain was a cold stab on my chest as I thought of him. I loved Harold. But what was I doing?

“I asked you a question,” She grabbed my chin then parted my lips with her fingertips, “Do. You. Have. A. Girlfriend?” Those last five words were accompanied by her battering thrusts.

I closed my eyes shut because I felt tears were welling up. I was in intense emotional pain. I wanted to be with Harold, but I wasn’t. This was betraying him on every level. She slapped me across the mouth like the dominant that she was, “Look at me! Do you have a girlfriend!?” I just nodded and looked away. I didn’t have the willpower to control my tears, “Aw, don’t worry. We’re not going to tell her about this,” I nodded again and let her use me to get it over with.

Guilt was pounding in my chest. Harold was all I could see as I closed my eyes, “Please, Charlie … I don’t have very long. Please go faster. I cannot do this anymore. This is cheating.”

She took my face in her hands, “Look at me Jake. I want us to come together. Got it?”

I fought the hands that held my face. I didn’t want to come while looking at her. The two of us shared a scene of quiet desperation. She was this forty-year-old woman who f****d a guy half her age, while I was a twenty-two-year-old man who pleasured a rich slut who could pass off as his teacher. And as she rode me, all I could think about was a loveable, sweet boy named Harold.

I choked on my moans as I felt an implosion in my groin that quickly developed into a full-blown release. Thick was the liquid that escaped me. She milked me to the last drop as I unloaded inside of her. It took her a while to orgasm. I had to practically aid in her release by pumping her with incessant thrusts. I f****d her senseless, with the kind of self-loathing for considering this job. I poured all my frustrations at her. I hated myself for being in the presence of a person I didn’t love. I thought about Harold as I f****d her. His eyes. His nose. Those modest lips of his. And that face of an angel he had. The thought of him made me come again.

She pulled up and dismounted leisurely like it was nothing to her, leaving me sprawled and f****d-up over the soiled mattress. I felt empty and spent, “You know Jake. You look really familiar. What’s your real name?” She pompously regarded with a raised chin, and then tacked it down as she fixed the sleeves of her fluffy white dress.

The question took me aback. I wasn’t going to tell her my real name, but then what have I got to lose. I’m f****d anyway, “Matthew Holston, Ma’am.”

She froze where she stood the minute I told her my name. She then gave me the look of death as she said, “Oh no,” Everything in me that responded to panic chiseled into sharpness. My heart rate picked up. I didn’t like the sound of an Oh no, “Matthew J. Holston? No, you can’t be him.”

“How do you know me? You’re kidding right? Who are you!?” By now I was tucking my shirt into my waistband. I was a ball of confusion as I looked at her. Why did she feel so familiar?

“Matt, I was the principal of the school you went to when you were young. Do you remember?”

The air felt heavy. Molecules of oxygen shrank. The revelation shocked my system. I froze where I stood as I thought of the many things why this was wrong. I just f****d the principal.

A doctor and a social worker conversed as they watched a young and spirited Matthew Holston. Young Matty Boi did cartwheels over the grassy field with an exuberant Collin Cade. They were a ball of warmth and joy as they bested each other through monkey bars, obstacles, and relays. It was a sunny, sunny day inside Boys Town of Florida, an orphanage down at Southwest 137th near the Hammocks. The two adults sat idly over marble settees as they were entertained by the jubilations of two rambunctious rascals.

“Doctor, what are causative mechanisms to his condition?”

“For a social worker, you do know what questions to ask.”

“My sister happens to be a colleague of yours. You had a discussion with her regarding Matt’s medical history. Is there anything else I need to know besides the spider bite and car accident?”

“Oh? She’s your sister? Well, let me look at those eyes. Oh yes, I see the semblance. Well, yes indeed. There is more to know. What I will share is central to his condition. Well, I underestimated social workers, you guys are well-rounded.”

“Heh, we try to be. What are the causative mechanisms?”

“You mean what causes it? Well, it involves complex neurological and vascular factors dearie.”

“I need more information because I’ll be spearheading his treatment here. Medical data may open my mind as to the extent of his condition. Also, my sister mentioned something about spinal cord trauma. How does that come into play when he is now fully recovered and is more than capable of doing cartwheels?”

“Well, his spinal cord lesions will remain as a neurologic disorder I’m afraid. However, what you need to really look into is his raised levels of adenosine.”

“Isn’t that a causative agent that dilates the blood vessels?”

“Wow, you sure did your research.”

“Oh you flatter. I didn’t. My sister just mentioned it to me. She said that the black widow’s venom spiked the adenosine levels in Matthew’s blood.”

“Well, yes, adenosine does dilate blood vessels. And it has the potential to influence blood flow into the heart and penis.”

“Oh! Wait, that’s noteworthy. I’ll write that on my clipboard. I forgot my tablet in the office room. Okay here, go on.”

“Adenosine is an agent that plays an important role in the biochemical process.”

“I’m aware of that. What else can you tell me? Okay, let me rephrase the question. How will that link to his future condition?”

“I am about to get to that. You see, energy transfer plays a role in promoting sleep and suppressing arousal. Levels of adenosine increase in the brain with each hour an organism is awake. With Matthew, well … let’s just say that his adenosine levels are a bit high. So he will occasionally, and I hope that it would only be sporadic that he, um, you know.”

“I don’t understand codes, Doctor. Just spit it out, and go easy on the terms. You’re giving me a migraine here, hehehe.”

“Haha! Well, let’s just say that when he hits puberty, he may need to start doing the deed, the nasty, because not doing so would mean damage to the blood vessels of his heart and penis.”

“Oh my, it’s like a license to f**k huh?”

“What an interesting viewpoint. Heh, you’re pretty straightforward aren’t you?”

“Heh, I try to be. So, he’ll be saved by having s*x?”

“Yep, he’ll be saved by having s*x, that’s for sure.”

The principal dismissed me early for she didn’t want to detain me in the same room with her. It was the most awkward post-coital talk I had. What with all the years of f*****g under my belt. I shunned the awkwardness aside and decided to probe for answers. Memories dropped like pencil shavings from her mouth as we got into talking about my childhood. She mentioned a girl who befriended me but couldn’t quite remember her name. I didn’t either no matter how hard I tried.

And as I made my way towards Harold’s door, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d break up with me if I told him what happened. With precise timing to how miserable I was, Jeff Buckley’s song played in my mind in an agonizing perpetual loop—

Looking out the door I see the rain fall upon the funeral mourners. Parading in a wake of sad relations as their shoes fill up with water. Maybe I'm too young to keep good love from going wrong. But tonight you're on my mind, so you never know.

Broken down and hungry for your love with no way to feed it. Where are you tonight, child you know how much I need it. Too young to hold on and too old to just break free and run.

Sometimes a man gets carried away, when he feels like he should be having his fun. And much too blind to see the damage he's done. Sometimes a man must awake to find that really, he has no-one.

I knocked on Harold’s door. It opened to an angel, my savior, my Har-har, “Harold, I’m sorry—” I was shaking everywhere. I couldn’t breathe properly nor look him in the eye. I was preparing for him to push me away and it was the worst feeling in the world to have. To lose someone you loved.

And as I dreaded to speak again, he pressed his index finger on my lips, “Did Collin put you up to it?”

I just nodded against his finger, not wanting to assert my right for I clearly was in the wrong. My body roused with tremors as thoughts of a break-up surfaced. Desperation and guilt were cold hands that choked the words I wanted to say. Pain was a ball in my stomach as I anticipated a slap or a punch from him. I was mad at myself for cheating.

I flinched when his hands went up. But then they landed softly on my face. I pressed my cheek into his warm hands as I cried. He asked me to look at him and I slowly did. His eyes were searching for something in mine. I thought he was about to speak, but then he hugged me, tightly. He cradled me in his loving, nurturing cocoon. I felt like I was cleansed emotionally.

“It’s not worth losing you over, Matt. I love you too much.”

At that moment, as I cried my apologies in his arms, I realized something. This boy wasn’t just someone I loved. He was my savior. He made me want to be a better man. He was a keeper.