Catalina Cherries
by Joe Butterman

 

Chapter 11: Caliente

Saturday morning we had a wonderful breakfast.  Roberto said a poetic grace rich with love of the Lord and of the Lord’s bounty and grace, it would have pleased any Christian.  I was wearing cut offs.  Before an explanation for this was demanded, I volunteered that we would be working in the Astimendi’s yard this morning, as I would be helping Roberto earn his train fare to Reno.  My Grandparent’s clearly approved of this industry.

Roberto announced that he was going home to change as I started on the dishes.  I told him that I’d be down as soon as I finished the dishes.  As I washed, I mused to myself that it wasn’t fair that we couldn’t kiss goodbye or say te amo or do any of the things those in love do when they part.  I resolved to talk to Emily about this iniquity when next we met.  I announced my departure and ran down to the Astimendi’s.

This house still had a certain look of dilapidation to it, but the yard was no longer unkempt.  Roberto had a certain gift for growing things: the grass was trimmed, green and vibrant, weeds were mostly banished; the roses thrived; and the bougainvillea, which had been barely hanging on, was storming back to life on its trellis. Mainly I did what Roberto told me, as he knew where he was with this project.  Frequently all this consisted of was getting something from the garage or handing him a tool.  While so engaged, I unburdened myself to him about how it wasn’t fair that I couldn’t kiss him goodbye.  He provided therapy by Carlito-ing me, and te amo-ing me, and querido-ing me lavishly.  I felt much better as a result of this and even remembered to ask him what he had said to me last night before we fell asleep.  He said it meant that I was the “light of his eyes.”  I thought this really neat and repeated the phrase several times until it was committed to memory.  At about this time, Gary came wheeling up bursting with important information.  He was going to Japan next week!  Then he machine-gunned us with questions.  Was Johnny still grounded?  Had that asshole Dave been around?  What had we been doing?  Did we miss him? What were we doing here? And so on.  I’d been working in the basin of some Birds of Paradise, so Roberto had taken the brunt of all this and responded.  He told Gary that we had to finish the work here and that we would come over to his house right after lunch; he said that we had some real interesting news for him too, and that Johnny was still grounded, but that I was going to see him Monday after dinner, and that no one had seen, or wanted to see, Dave.  During this recitation, Roberto had called Gary “sweetheart” a coupla times, but I didn’t mind because I loved them both and, besides, he said it in English and that meant it was no big deal.

“Super,” Gary replied and went on to say that Miss Jean would be gone to do the shopping most of the afternoon, so he had to get home for lunch before she left anyway.  He wheeled off.  I mean he really wheeled – I couldn’t but think it could only have been better done on a horse.  We had a few minor tasks to complete, and then we started to put all the tools and stuff away.  Mercedes came out on the porch to ask us to lunch, but Roberto told her that we’d promised to eat lunch with Grand Belle and that if we missed that we’d be “dead.”  She laughed and left us to it.

Amazingly, Grand Belle had somehow managed to cook exactly four pork chops too many last night.  So we each had two chops with mashed potatoes and gravy and green beans.  I lavished mayonnaise on my green beans in my Grandfather’s absence.  Her pork chops were the best; they were so tender you could cut them with a fork.  Around laden forks, we told her that Gary was back from Long Beach, but that he would soon be going to Japan.  We were going to see him after lunch and would have more information later, if that was okay with her.  This caused Grand Belle some distress.  She did not trust Long Beach.  She’d been there for a big earthquake; similarly, Japan was known for earthquakes and then there was the matter of Pearl Harbor, where the great ships California and Nevada, among others to be sure, had been sunk.  This could only be ominous.  We reassured her and told her we’d find out as much information as we could and then let her know.  She was interested and very concerned for Gary.  We’d asked her if our visit was okay, but she was so concerned with all this detail, that she forgot to rule on our request.  We considered this to be approval.  We had vanilla ice cream with chocolate syrup for dessert and then we were off.

Gary was back by the pool laying on a recliner.  He was wearing what I would call a light stiffie, and nothing else.  His tan had paled a little from his trip and he had received a very military hair cut while at Long Beach, close on the sides and just a little longer on top, but he wasn’t wearing it as a crew cut.  For that matter, neither was I anymore, I had resolved that I was finished with that style.  He got up as we came to the pool and his cock jutted sweetly before him.  I suspected from his condition that Miss Jean must already be shopping, I asked, and he confirmed it.

“We’re gonna use the shower cuz we’re all dirty and sweaty,” Roberto announced.

“Great,” said Gary, and we all went to the shower, Roberto and I shedding what few clothes we were wearing on the way.  Roberto and I got under the shower and started washing each other with our hands and then Gary, on his knees, got between us and took one of us, then the other, in his mouth and sucked greedily.  This was pretty neat.  We turned off the shower and Roberto and I kissed and enjoyed Gary’s enthusiasm.  Then we pulled him up and took turns kissing each other.  All of our rods were rock hard by now and it was fun rubbing and being rubbed by boners.

“I really missed you guys,” Gary said, “and I really need some.”

“Come try it over here,” Roberto took charge, and we left the shower and went to the pool ladder where Roberto showed Gary how he wanted him to lean over the ladder rails.  I went and got some lotion and oiled Roberto’s rod and Gary’s butt.  I stood back and watched them join and start.

“Yes…oh God…yes,” said Gary breathlessly as Roberto settled in and pumped him the first couple times.  I watched this scene for a few moments, and then went to the diving board and cannon balled into the pool splashing both of them.  Cooling them off a little I smirked to myself.  I surfaced by the ladder and climbed up until Gary was waggling right in front of my face, I swallowed him, and got in synch with them.

“God…oh…oh…God,” Gary moaned as we pumped and sucked on him.  He was really clenching the ladder.  I liked him a lot and I liked the feel of his balls when they caressed my chin as he thrust forward.  He really did need “some.”  He came first and he really gushed into my throat when he did.  I’d never had so much cum to savor before.  He was still moaning but he wasn’t using any words that I could make out.  Of course, I kept him in my mouth after he came.  Roberto started saying, “Yes…yes…Dios,” as his motion shifted from the rhythmic thrusts that build passion, to the two or three deep spasmodic thrusts of cumming.  I hoped he would keep Gary in him and sit back with him in his lap like we did yesterday. Gary would then be in a perfect position to suck me off if he did, and I was pretty caliente now.  My Cid performed magnificently, bringing Gary slowly down and back so that Roberto was sitting back resting on his hands, and Gary straddled him with his legs outstretched.  I had kept Gary in my mouth until the last possible moment, then I finished climbing out of the pool and nuzzled his face with my boner.  He started licking me immediately, he ran one hand up my leg and began to play in my butt, with his other hand he positioned my boner just right and took me completely in, out, and in and out, again and again.  I smiled down on Roberto as I ran my tongue over my lips at him, stuck my tongue out at him, pumped Gary’s mouth at him, and mouthed “mi tesoro” at him.  He did the same right back, but of course he wasn’t pumping at me.  And then I closed my eyes and surrendered to Gary’s hunger.  It didn’t take him long.

We held our position until we were all soft, then we slowly separated.  I swung around and dove into the pool, to be followed by the two of them in quick succession.  We didn’t stay long in the pool.  I took a position on the edge, with my feet dangling in the water, and was joined there in a few moments by Gary and Roberto, I relaxed and the water ran off me in the sunshine.

“So tell us about Japan,” I inquired.  Well, it seemed that Gary’s Father’s ship was going to be in dry dock for a couple weeks for “routine maintenance” and he had arranged for Gary to fly on military transport to Japan, via Hawaii, Midway, and the Philippines.  Gary would stay with his Father for about a week, but would have to come back just before the ship came out of dry dock. He was ecstatic.

“I’ve gotta map in my room and I’ll show you the route and everything.”

“Great, but before we do that, let me tell you what happened to us,” and Roberto told him the story of our second encounter with Emily, about posing, how she’d had us over to her house and let us use her pool. Lived with another woman, and wanted to meet him and Johnny.

“And she already sold the first painting, but it might still be at the gallery if you wanna go see it.  It’s real sexy but it doesn’t show anything,” I added.

“And we have to pose for her again for another painting soon,” Roberto concluded.

“She really likes us and I think you’ll like her a lot too,” I amended Roberto’s conclusion.

“Wow!”  Gary was suitably impressed.  I told him it wasn’t as neat as his trip to Japan, but I thought to myself that I’d have to tell Roberto that I wouldn’t want to go to Japan without him.  It was different for Gary with his Father being there and waiting for him.

“Come see my map.” He said, and led the way to his room, with a short detour through the kitchen to grab some Seven Ups.  He had this big chart pinned on his wall, and he had drawn a line from San Diego, to Hawaii, and so on across the vast expanse of ocean.  It really was quite a trip to make by yourself and was yards better than my little train trips.  He had changed his models all around. My attention was drawn to a new model ship that had pride of place on his dresser and I went over to admire it.  It was sleek and lean and bristled with guns.

“That’s my Dad’s ship,” he said proudly.  He came over and pointed out the bridge where his Father would stand when he captained the ship.  He was a trove of detail about the ship, her speed, displacement (weight), the number and different kinds of guns, and so on.  He was halted by the front door thumping and the Commander’s voice calling “Gar-r-rie.”

“Yes Mom.  I’m showin’ my map to Berto and Charlie.  We’ll be right there.”  Down the hall we trooped to greet her.  She was totally unfazed by our nudity.  You might have thought she’d borne us all.  She was going to require Gary for some family business, so we excused ourselves and she sent us off with a hug and a pat on the butt.  We got dressed, and rode off to our respective homes.

Dinner commenced with a formidable grace in the course of which the evils of drink and of temptation were stressed.  I’m sure this was for my benefit based upon Johnny’s recent disaster. Then I told Bobbin all about Gary’s pending adventure.  I’d already given it all to Grand Belle as I helped her prepare dinner.  After dinner I sprawled on the living room floor with another book I’d found downtown.  This was The Scottish Soldiers of Fortune and was about how the Scots had conquered the world but never got credit for it.  It had been published in 1889.  I found it on a table outside a junk store on a table labeled “Any Book 50 cents”.  Feeling every inch a Scot, I tried to haggle over the price of the book with the clerk. I pointed to its great age as a detriment.  She just laughed and told me I was lucky; that it’d cost a lot more at a bookstore, I gave her the four bits and was off.  Right now I was in the part where we were fighting in Russia. It was pretty dry, but a beautiful book just the same.  Brigadier Gordon was leading some grenadiers and “four columns of dragoons” to fight at some river. I went “away with the faeries” and dreamed of my Dragoon.  When I came back, I put up the book, kissed all good night, took a bath and went to bed.  As I was falling to sleep, I conjured a vision of Roberto astride Dragoon; Roberto was naked of course, I thought it was stunning and resolved to mention it to Emily as a possible painting.

The next day was Sunday and I had a new charcoal gray suit to wear, which I thought looked very fine.  I wore a blue bow tie with tiny dark red dots.  The trick with a bow tie, when you are going to be consorting with those who know no better, is to rumple the knot just enough so that it cannot be mistaken for a clip-on tie.  This I accomplished and it was the one and only high point of my day.  Roberto was having a family gathering after Mass.  I’d been invited, but had declined on the grounds of family commitments.  The real reason was that I wanted more Spanish before I attended such an event.  The Scottish were well into Sweden before I went to bed that night.

Well, it was Monday: Roberto would be working with Alejandro all day; I would visit the prisoner after dinner tonight; Gary wanted me to come to lunch and then swim afterwards; the morning was free.  After breakfast, Bobbin went into his den.  When I was done with the dishes, I joined him.  He was working on his investments; he had a number of charts and graphs with information that he obtained from The Wall Street Journal; he used these to track the economy: he warned me solemnly about the danger of attempting to “time the market” but stated that there were certain trends that one should look for that would help you “preserve and enlarge capital.”  This really was interesting stuff, but right now, it was summer.

“Can I wash the Packard?” I wondered.

“Certainly,” he agreed, having successfully passed on information of consequence.  I got the keys and dashed to the garage.

I assembled all of the necessary paraphernalia.  The important part of washing the Packard had nothing to do with cleanliness; I got to drive it: I would have to back it out of the garage and park it beneath the Walnut tree to polish, and then return it in gleaming state to the garage.  I was busy with a pleasant task, for the remainder of the morning.  While I was working, Bobbin said that I could leave it out as he was going to have to go downtown later, but I opted not to hear, no acknowledgment was requested, and so I got to drive the Packard back into the garage.  I carefully closed the doors, after all I’d not heard that I could leave it out, and I put everything away.  I changed into starched shorts, restored the keys to their accustomed place, bid all goodbye and cycled off to Gary’s.

It was always fun to visit with Miss Jean as she prepared our lunch; I brought her up to date on all of the happenings in my corner of Anaheim.  Gary strolled into the kitchen naked, and was ordered amiably into clothes, “y’all don’t sit naked at no table of mine.”  We all laughed.  She provided us with cheeseburgers, potato salad, celery sticks with a jar of peanut butter to dip them in, and the usual Seven Ups.  After lunch I asked if I might make a telephone call, permission granted, I repaired to the living room where I dialed Miss Emily’s number.  After a few rings, she answered and I practiced on her, “Buenos dias Senorita Emily,” she was enchanted and we exchanged pleasantries, she explained that Mr. Smith had called and asked us to “luncheon” at his home on Thursday, and would it be possible for Roberto and I to pose for her for an hour or so on Wednesday; I told her that Roberto was in Santa Monica today, but I would check with him first thing in the morning and let her know; I also told her that Gary was home and could he come with us to meet her on Wednesday.  She said that would be fine with her.  I asked after Senorita Victoria, more pleasantries, then “adios, vaya con Dios.”

I went out to the pool.  Gary was cleaning it.  I went into the dressing room and neatly folded my clothes onto the bench.  I went out and relaxed in one of the loungers and watched Gary’s movement and the play of his muscles as he fiddled with the cleaning net.  I dozed a little, I watched Gary a little; he was fussing with some chemicals now, I liked the way his butt flexed and moved as he came and went, the way his balls hung down with the heat, and his cock seemed to lay happily against them when he was still.  I dozed some more, but was aware of him when he pulled a lounger over next to me and relaxed on it.

“What time is it?”  I wondered as he settled.

“Fifteen more minutes,” he replied knowing that my interest in the time was only about when we could go into the pool without raising the ire of Miss Jean.  We lay basking in the warmth and our friendship.

At length, I stood up and stretched happily against my warmth and relaxation.  I dove into the pool and came fully and coolly awake as the water smoothed and tickled me.  Mostly I swam up and down the pool underwater.  I stood up toward the shallow end, and looked around; Gary was poised on the diving board, he’d obviously been waiting for me to surface.  He made the board flex under him several times and then executed a lovely swan dive, he entered the water with hardly any splash at all.  He did this twice more.  It was a beautiful sight, even in a swimming suit, his motion would have been wondrous, a delight to behold; but it was much better when he was naked, I loved the motion of his sex as he flexed the board before diving.  After his last dive, he surfaced next to me, and we felt each other up under the water.  Without having to discuss it, we swam to the ladder and clambered out, I was leading the way; we went straight to the shower and rinsed-off, I pulled him into the dressing room, spread a towel for him on the bench, sitting him down I told him, “I want you to just relax and enjoy it.”  I spread him out and got between his legs.  I took him in my mouth because I really like to feel a boner grow in my mouth.  So I worked him for a few minutes and felt him hardening.  Then I dropped him and sat back a little.  I started on one foot, and licked and sucked his toes while I massaged his ankle, and calf.  I kissed and licked and massaged that entire leg and then went to work tonguing his balls.  I grabbed his sac and pulled it down so that I could scratch and tickle each of his balls like I had done to Johnny when we were first playing King.  I liked looking up over his belly and chest from right beside his boner.  I noticed that the tip was glistening, so I cleaned his tip with my tongue.  I’d originally planned on doing both of his legs, but I was getting a little impatient, so I moved up over his belly and chest. Licking and kissing the sweet indentation and both of his nipples, up and along his throat I moved. We frenched wildly for long moments.  I did his ears and his eyebrows and his cheeks, and then I started back down.  I had moved so that I was sitting beside him, and now I scooted back on the bench a little, so that I was working on him from the side.  I could really get down on him from the side, and I did.  I blew and sucked and licked, I worked him like a popsicle for a while, and then I’d take him all in again.  He was cooing, and moaning, and calling my name, and it was really great when he blasted into my mouth.  I swallowed the first few spurts, but I held the last one in my mouth.  I got back on my knees between his legs and opened my mouth wide so that I could wipe the last of his cum all over his softening cock, and then lick it back off again.  I did this until I couldn’t taste his cum anymore and he was soft.

“That was the greatest ever, Charlie…the best ever…super,” he kinda crooned lowly as he came back to earth.  “But it’s your turn now.”  He laid me out on my back on the bench, he knelt beside me, and he started licking me all over, from mouth to toe.  I shifted just a little, and stuck one knee toward the ceiling so that he would have better access to my boner and balls.  He worked me slowly and lovingly, and I wished I could hold it back for hours, but I couldn’t.

We held each other and he told me that he wished I could come to Japan with him.  We exchanged lots of other sweetness, but soon it was time for me to go.  I dressed and he walked me to the gate naked.  I thought that of the four of us, he was the most relaxed of us when naked.  We all liked to be naked, but I thought that he would walk around downtown naked, if he could, and be perfectly comfortable.  I couldn’t even imagine walking into the kitchen naked if my Grandparents were there.  I remembered to tell him about Emily wanting us to come over on Wednesday and he said that would be super.  When we were almost to the gate, but invisible from the house, I kissed him goodbye.

A few minutes before it would be time for dinner, I rode over to Roberto’s to tell him about my talk with Emily. He said that he would be working, tomorrow with Alejandro again, but that would finish that job and he would tell them that he needed to do some work for “Senorita Emily” on Wednesday and Thursday.

After dinner, I fixed-up a bag of grapes for Johnny, Grand Belle contributed some oatmeal cookies.  I knocked on his kitchen door in some trepidation.  Mrs. MacCrimmon opened the door almost instantly and admitted me.  I showed her the grapes and cookies before she asked about them, I didn’t want her to think I was smuggling hacksaw blades, or even worse, Demon Rum.  She smiled; indeed I think that she was happy that the prisoner of Xenda was getting a visitor.  She told me that I could stay with him for an hour.  I pulled out my Pocket Ben to make sure it agreed with the kitchen clock.  She smiled at this, too, but I had learned about synchronizing watches in All Quiet on the Western Front, or was it Fighting Leathernecks?  I thanked her and went upstairs.  Johnny’s door was closed. So I knocked gently and he called me in.  I closed the door behind me.  He was sitting on his bed in a bathrobe and his hair was longer, damp from the shower, and really sexy; he had one leg stretched out down the bed, but the other was pulled way up so that it was half of sitting Indian style. His robe was loose; he displayed a lot of leg.  I went over and kissed him,  “Hi babe,” and I showed him the cookies and grapes.  I sat on the bed facing him and was happy to note that his injuries had faded to invisibility.

“So,” he wondered, “Has that asshole been around?”  There was no question about who the asshole he was asking about was.

“Nope!  We’d a kicked his ass if he did,” I said ferociously.

Without having to ask, he began.  He’d been in bed and started feeling sorry for Dave, so he thought it would be nice to go to his room and have sex with him one more time before he went back to the Navy.  He knew where his room was as he’d been with him when he checked in. He snuck out with no problem and rode the bus downtown.  He knocked on the door and Dave let him in.  Dave was naked and that was fine with Johnny; he also had a small bottle of whiskey that he had mostly drunk, he looked a little wild.  He thrust the bottle at Johnny and told him to take a drink “like-a-man.”  This was not quite the reception Johnny expected; Johnny took a sip, but hated the taste, and tried to give it back, but Dave had pushed him up against the wall and was trying to get his cut offs down and was rubbing all over him.  He was all stinking of whiskey and it wasn’t very sexy.

“He didn’t even have a hard-on,” Johnny was amazed, “Then he swung me around and threw me on the bed like he wanted to rape me.”  This got the whiskey spilled all over the room because the bottle flew out of Johnny’s hand as he was thrown on the bed, which really pissed Dave off.  Which was pretty stupid because Johnny hadn’t done anything but get thrown on the bed.  Dave had managed to get Johnny’s cut offs only a little way down as the zipper was still mostly up, but he jumped on Johnny and tried to hump him even though he “couldn’t get it up.”  Then Dave got really mad and called Johnny a “bitchcunt” and started slugging him.  Johnny had enough and kneed him hard in the balls.  Dave groaned and rolled over clutching himself, folding up on the bed.  Johnny was now pretty mad too, so he slugged Dave a couple of times and then fled.  One of Dave’s blows had hit Johnny on his lip next to his nose.  This had given him a bloody nose and cut his lip.  Because of this, he had bled all over and his t-shirt was a torn and bloody wreck.  When he tried to sneak into the kitchen, his Mom was waiting for him and switched on the light.  The rest, really, was history.  He had to let her think that he had left the rest of us to meet a new friend, had drunk some whiskey voluntarily, and then got in a fight.  He couldn’t hardly tell her he was looking for sex and found a drunken fuckhead instead.

During this account, he had shifted his legs a little, and I could see the bottom of his balls.  He was gonna be okay.  I started telling him everything that had been happening to us while he was in prison.  As I did this, I reached under his robe and grabbed his boner and massaged it. I kicked off my shorts but left my t-shirt on and grabbed a bottle of hand lotion from his nightstand (I thought I knew why it was there), I threw open his robe and sat on his stomach.  I lotioned us up and slid back onto him and slipped him into me.  I smiled at him happily and then I began to hump him.

“We all love you and miss ya,” I told him as I humped him taking him more and more deeply into me.  “We…all…think…you’re…the…greatest!”  In time with the thrusts.  He threw his head back, his eyes were closed, and his lips were slightly open.  I was no longer interested in talking and within seconds he was gushing into the deepest part of me.  He hugged me so tightly to him that he slipped out of me.  I stretched my legs down on top of him and positioned my boner right next to his and I kept on humping until I came too.  I just relaxed and loved the feel of him.  I rolled off and wiped us clean with some Kleenex.  I told him to be prepared for a talking to from my Grandfather and to let me know if he had any ideas about what we could do to keep his Mom from sending him off to his Dad’s.  He smiled and nodded.  Time was running out, I pulled my shorts on, and then carefully kissed his wiener and his balls and then his lips and his tongue.  “When will ya be back?  He wondered.

“As soon as your Mom lets me.  Tomorrow I hope.”

Downstairs, I mentioned to Mrs. MacCrimmon that Roberto was going to be visiting me next winter and that I was helping him with odd jobs so that he could save the train fare.  I thought that Johnny might want to help too when he was done being grounded next week.  She agreed to think about this idea.

I told Grand Belle and Bobbin the official version of Johnny’s story with strong emphasis on how he was surprised by the whiskey, didn’t like it, and mostly got it on him in the fight which, too, he had tried to avoid.  Bobbin muttered darkly about the “sins of Abraham” and “wild oats” and I knew that the sermon he intended to deliver was taking shape and form in his mind.  Grand Belle wanted to know if he’d been hurt and I detailed his minor injuries.  Grand Belle then looked me straight in the eyes, and deeply caring, asked if I had ever tasted whiskey.  The concern in her face was so apparent, and she was so genuinely sincere, that I would have melted before her were such a thing possible.

“No Grand Belle, I never have, and if you don’t want me to, I never will.”  She thought this would be a good idea; she told me that she would pray for me to be able to do this.

“But the world being what it is, you may have to taste it once.  After that one time, your promise goes into effect.”

“No Grand Belle, that’s okay.  I never will, I promise you.”

“Well, if you do that, it will be the only good thing that ever came from strong drink.”

“I love you Grand Belle,” and I hugged and kissed her.

It was Wednesday at last.  Right after breakfast I dashed down and collected Roberto, then we rode over to get Gary; while Gary was dressing (he’d been naked by the pool of course) I solemnly assured the house that we’d all have lunch and be careful.  I took Roberto to the dressing room where I kissed mi amor with the desperate passion that a two-day abstinence can create.  He returned the passion and I know that we’d have done it right there had we the time.  We answered Gary’s yell instead, and then we rode down to the Art Gallery as Gary had said he wanted to see the painting.  We again bid “good morning” to the lady at the desk and made a beeline for the painting.  Gary thought it was really neat and he stared at it for a long time.  Then he turned to me and said, “You remember how you told me about playing Indian?”

“Sure.”

“Well, next time we all go to the beach, I think we should play it again.”

“Sure.”  I mean, what else could I say?

As we were going back out, the lady at the desk asked, “You boys really like Emily’s work don’t you?”

“We do,” I agreed, “we know it won’t be here long and we wanted our friend Gary to see it.”  Gary nodded.  Then it was like alight went on in her eyes, “You helped her with it didn’t you?  Somehow I thought you looked familiar.  That’s it, isn’t it?”  But I’d heard a door close in the back of the gallery and assumed shirtsleeves was on his way to bother us again.

“Yes Ma’am.  And we’re going to see her now.  We’ll tell her you asked after her.  Bye.”  And we were out and off.  I wasn’t exactly sure how these gallery types were to be handled, but I didn’t think they should be taken too seriously.

We arrived at 10:30 and were admitted by Emily.  In the entryway, I said, “Miss Emily Covington, please meet our very good friend Gary van der Leyden.”  He gave her that elegant bow he does so well as he said, “ma’am.”  Victoria appeared and was similarly introduced and ma’am-ed as he replicated his bow to her.

“We’re very pleased to meet you,” Miss Emily took over, “and we hope to see more of you.  But that will be quite enough ma’am-ing for today, okay?”  Gary looked a little uncertain so Emily continued, “Well try anyway.”  He nodded.  “Let’s go to the pool,” she decreed.

On the wrought iron table that had contained our lunch on our first visit, there was a large copper bowl that contained six bottles of coke that were covered with ice.  There was a bottle opener beside it.

“Why don’t you have a nice swim? I need to set some props up in the studio, then we’ll have lunch and go to work,” and off she went unconcerned about the possibility of a reply.  We stripped and put all our clothes on a chair that was out of the way.  Gary had waited to see what we were going to do, then he stripped too, and we all piled into the pool.  We had our usual wonderful time in the pool. I again rued the absence of a diving board.  We had moved down to the shallow end, Gary was sitting and Roberto and I were kind of bobbing up and down off the bottom, sometimes submerging and sometimes supported on hands or knees.  I told Roberto, “You should see Gary dive.  It’s really neat the way his cock and balls go up and down as he gets ready to dive.”  I stuck a foot into his groin and tickled him a little.  He smiled hugely; Gary liked to be appreciated.

“Cokes,” Roberto said and we got out and got them.  We were sitting Indian style on the edge of the pool, and I was telling Gary that it was completely okay to be naked around these ladies because they were “artists”.  I told him about the pose we were supposed to do after lunch, and how we had explained to her that it would make us caliente, and how she was going to leave us alone after the pose, and that’s why we needed him here.  He appreciated that too.  Miss Victoria came onto the patio and began laying the table for lunch.  There was a bowl of fried chicken, a lovely tossed green salad with nuts and olives and artichoke hearts, you had your choice of three different salad dressings, a cheese tray, and warm rolls.  Victoria went-off to find Emily, and when they returned, we sat down to lunch.  I thought it would have been a great picture, though no one would ever have believed it: there we were, Victoria and Emily in casual summer clothes, and the three of us dressed in our tans with linen napkins on our laps.  I asked Emily if she would show Gary the painting she had done of Roberto and I, and she pleasantly agreed.  I remembered Roberto and Dragoon.

“I had this great idea for a painting,” she looked interested. “You can paint my horse Dragoon with Roberto riding him.  Roberto will have to be naked.  Prob’bly an Indian again.  He’d be great in the cavalry, but they didn’t ride naked much.” Roberto looked positively alarmed at this.

“We’ll have to think about that,” Emily observed, “Perhaps you can send me some photo’s of Dragoon when you get home so that I can consider it.”  In the face of indefinite postponement, Roberto relaxed and returned to lunch.  We had lime sherbet for dessert.

In the studio there was a large canvas on an easel.  The center of it was completely blank, but there were some mountains, trees, and part of a temple on the sides and part of the sky was there too.  Emily called Gary over to the covered easel and showed him Roberto and I.  Gary was as entranced as we had been.  You could tell he loved it because he was getting a light stiffie.  But Emily summoned us to work.  She would point to the painting and then at us as she explained the scene.  Like she said, it was a religious festival of Love that we were going to and we were “caliente” for the festival as we walked up the path to the temple.  She had a long wooden box that was about as high as a stair step so she wanted us stepping up on it like we were climbing.  So we did, but it wasn’t right: she wanted my left foot on the step and Roberto’s right foot on the step; we had to be closer together; my right arm had to be around Roberto’s waist, but it had to be low so that one might think I was feeling his “bottom”: Roberto’s left arm was to be draped over my shoulder so that he could reach my nipple if he wanted, but he wasn’t to be doing it in the pose even though I was feeling up his butt; Roberto was to be looking up the path and I was to be looking up at him lovingly.  That last part was easy enough.  She was standing slightly above us on this podium deal with her sketchbook and had already done several sketches.  Then she sat down and really concentrated on the next two or three sketches.  Then she had us step up onto the box, and then step back off of it; we did this several times as her pencil flew and a page turned.  Then she got us back in the original position and told us it was time to be “caliente”.  So we took our free hands and jacked each other until we were pretty full and then resumed our pose; but she was very particular about getting us into the exact position again, and it took awhile to satisfy her and when we did, we weren’t caliente any more.  She looked disappointed, “Is that all there is to it?”  She demanded, a touch cross.  Well. We were a touch embarrassed too, and I was trying to figure out a polite way to tell her that the rest of the pose wasn’t really very caliente for us.  But Gary said, “I know just what to do.”  He stood beside us with a good half a woodie and asked, “Is the pose right?”  She nodded, and he stepped up and without touching us anywhere else, took us into his mouth by turns, sucking us up until be both had ferocious boners.  He stepped back out of the picture, “Looks good to me,” he commented judiciously.  Emily had been watching this operation with mute fascination, but now she grabbed her sketchbook and started sketching furiously.  We had only softened a little when he stepped back in and did it again.  It’s really hard to hold a pose when you’re being sucked on.  He went and stood behind Emily and watched her work, he looked at us and licked his lips and stroked himself like he was trying to make us laugh. But we were pretty professional and just ignored him.

“Uh, can I make a suggestion Ma’am-ily?”  Gary asked and she stopped and looked at him.  She nodded.  “Well…look…we’re all circumcised, and the Ancient Greeks weren’t. That’s what they’re s’posed to be, isn’t it, Ancient Greeks?”  She nodded again with a look of alarm.

“But how do you know that,” Roberto was curious rather than demanding.

“Well I went to museums and stuff when we were in Greece, and I saw lotsa statues. Paintings, and stuff.  They painted a lotta neat vases.”  He lectured on, “When they went to the gym, they used to tie ribbons, or cloth strips, around the tips of their foreskins so that sand wouldn’t get underneath.  They didn’t wear gym clothes.”  Here Johnny and I had been all concerned about foreskins just before we met Roberto, but had never mentioned it to Gary, who knew all about it.  Gary saw that Emily was alarmed.  “But it’s okay.  We all look pretty much the same when we’re hard, all you have to do is soften the edge a little around here,” and he showed her using his dick as an example.  “Don’t make it look so sharp here, and make it a little fuller here, like the skin has just slid back.  That way, anyone who knows, will know that they’re not circumcised.  It’ll be authentic.”  He pulled the flesh on his woodie around to demonstrate, blurring, sort of, the tip of his dick.

“How do you know it looks like that,” I wanted to know, fascinated.  He grinned, “My first boy was a Greek boy and he wasn’t circumcised.  We compared.”  She sketched some more. Then she had Gary hold us one at a time and told him to move the skin up until it looked about right.  She sketched that.  Then she reviewed all of her sketches.  We were done.  “I might need you again for coloring, but I don’t know yet for sure.”  She smiled, “come along my caliente boys.”  She led us down to what was obviously a guest bedroom, showed us in, and left.

Roberto took charge at once, “Carlito lay down here and then point your knee up like you like.”  When I was in position, he had Garry assume a similar position next to me, so that I could reach his dick easily, but his head was angled away from me.  “Now,” Roberto directed, “we’re all gonna suck at the same time,” and he got down with his head close to my lap and his cock where Gary could reach it, and we all went to work.  This was pretty neat, and it didn’t take a long time: we were mostly soft, then we were statue hard, and then we were buttery soft again.  There were other variations that I liked better.  The angles weren’t quite right.  The cuming, like always, was great.

We had one more quick swim and finished off the cokes.  Emily reminded us that she owed us money so she gave Roberto and I fifty dollars each as our bonuses.  Smiling at Gary, she gave him fifty dollars too, because he had saved her from a mistake that could have been serious, and concerned something about which she knew nothing.  She invited Gary to join us for “luncheon” at Mr. Smith’s tomorrow, told him that she had already told Mr. Smith that he would be coming and it was “just fine” with him.  We were to be at her house no later than 1000 hours because it was a fair drive to Mr. Smith’s.

 

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