Edgar Aeternum, Book 1: Tales of Aeternal Love

by Jay Belle Isle

  "No worries," Edgar said, grateful that Wiz hadn't asked about his plans for the evening. "Have a great time! I'll let you know how it goes with Maddi."

  "I look forward to it!" Wiz said. "End call."

  A quick check of the time - nine-thirty - and Edgar was back in the walk-in.

  I love him, but Wiz'd have a meltdown if he knew I was headed for Hermes tonight. Such a romantic, he is! I have nothing against happy endings, but life is not a fairy tale like it is in Synthesis. Out here, happily-ever-after takes a shitload of hard work. In his mind, my going out tonight would be like breaking my wedding vows on the honeymoon.

  Edgar turned away from the casual rack to check out dressier outfits. His gaze fell upon a classic black Armani suit. Today, the suit was considered retro-chic, but to Edgar, it'd never gone out of style. He paired it with a crisp white dress shirt, black socks and exquisite Italian loafers. No tie, but he chose sapphire cufflinks for the French cuffs.

  He did a turn in the three-way mirror and, satisfied with the results, headed for the living room. A quick puff of Jamaican Blade and he'd be good to go. The strain was perfect for an evening at Hermes. It left him feeling relaxed and euphoric, but not couch locked and judgment-impaired. It also had the benefit of being an amazing aphrodisiac. By the time he made it to the lobby of his building, he was already partially hard. He chuckled, glad he went with the tight black briefs. If he'd gone commando as he'd originally planned, the soft stimulation of the slacks would've finished the task he was hoping to accomplish at the club.

  Ten minutes later, Edgar boarded the magna-train at Altair Station. The magna stop nearest Hermes was King Street, two blocks from the club. The magna ride only took five minutes, but the walk would've been a half hour; Edgar wanted to save his time and energy for the evening's entertainment.

  He walked up to Hermes' door just before ten. The uniformed doorman greeted him collegially. "Good evening, sir! It's good to see you again. I must say, you're looking quite smart tonight."

  "Thank you, Charles," Edgar said, smiling. The doorman was not just for show and polite greetings, however. Charles had black belts in two different martial arts: Tae kwon do and Thraxian ba'd shaht, the latter an impressive accomplishment given that fewer than one hundred humans had ever reached that level. The security was not so much for rowdy members; Hermes' policy on conduct was quite strict. Any member who dared cause enough of a disturbance that Charles had to become involved was sternly advised to never darken the club's door again. Given that Hermes was the gentlemen's club in the city, only fools ever dared cross that line.

  "I trust you've been well, sir," Charles said as he opened the heavy oaken door for Edgar. The club modeled itself after the gent's clubs of nineteenth century London. It was, however, outfitted with all the latest tech. Charles' presence in regards to security was mainly to discourage non-members from attempting entry.

  "I've been quite well, thank you, Charles. I trust you're also well?" Edgar asked.

  "Most definitely, sir. I just returned from a week's vacation in Paris. It was quite refreshing, sir," replied the dapper doorman. "I hope you have a pleasant evening with us, sir."

  "That sounds like a great vacation, Charles. Paris is lovely this time of year. I'm sure my evening will be quite enjoyable. I hope yours is peaceful," Edgar said.

  "I'm sure it will be, sir," Charles replied, smiling briefly. In the five years he'd been working for Hermes, he'd never received so much as a scratch he was that good at his job. Edgar wondered, not for the first time, how good he was at other things. True to his role, though, Charles' personal preferences were unknown. The club forbade its employees from that type of fraternization with members. That he'd shared the news of his vacation was about as personal as Charles ever became.

  Edgar smiled and entered the club, greeted immediately by the smell of old leather and expensive cologne. The Jamaican Blade kicked up another notch as the enticing aromas washed over him. He recognized one of the scents as belonging to a favorite bedmate and found himself hoping the man hadn't already had his fill of entertainment for the evening. Sterling was an amazing top and Edgar was still somewhat hungry for a good fuck.

  He didn't see Sterling in the ornately decorated lobby. Most of the arm chairs were filled, some with men deep in conversation, others engrossed in a good read. This was a quiet zone, the conversations carried out in soft tones. Here, one could be served a drink from the club's well-stocked bar or a puff of herb from its equally well-stocked collection. Tonight, it seemed the choice was port wine and brandy; the air was clear. Though to be honest, even when hookahs and bongs were the order of the evening, the air filtration system whisked away what otherwise would be a dense cloud of smoke.

  Edgar didn't usually spend much time in the lobby unless he was conversing with a fellow member. He figured if he wanted to read alone, he could easily stay home. He returned a few waves, but continued through the lobby to the double doors at the end opposite the club's entrance. Beyond those doors was the much livelier gaming room, home to any number of card, board and computer games. A quick scan revealed no sign of Sterling. Of course, Edgar would have little difficulty in finding a suitable companion for the evening, but he really wanted to see Sterling, if such was possible.

  The gaming area was almost filled to capacity, waiters scurrying about like busy ants, taking and filling orders with quiet efficiency. Normally, Edgar would tour the room, greeting old acquaintances and maybe making new ones; tonight, however, he was a man on a mission and the first priority of that mission was determining whether Sterling was available.

  He worked his way through the crowded room, heading toward the rear again. If he went through the door on the left, he'd be in the carnal delights area; the right would take him to the sports section and that's where he headed. If he didn't see Sterling in that area, it meant that the man had already found a companion for the night. Edgar seriously hoped that Sterling was watching a hockey game or some other athletic distraction. He further hoped that he, himself, could provide ample distraction to lure Sterling across the way to the other door.

  Edgar often found himself in the sports area, more for the camaraderie of men watching games than the games themselves. Not that he didn't have any interest in sports; he was simply not the type of man who bled team colors. He'd long ago discovered that the sports bar was also the best place to find another Andro; especially one ripe for a romp, after being pumped up on his team's success or let down by their failure.

  Edgar didn't have any problem with non-Andro gay men, as some of his Andro brothers did. He just gravitated toward other Andros because they, like him, embodied pure masculinity. Wizzer, for instance, was a great friend, but definitely not Andro; yet he was probably the closest thing Edgar had to a best friend in this lifetime.

  He often wondered what the man who'd coined the term would think about today's society. Edgar had devoured (several times) the manifesto that ultimately became the basis for Andro culture. One of the few regrets he had was not being able to meet its author, an intelligent albeit controversial gent named Jack. There was a brief time when Edgar participated in an online group set up by the author, but the group eventually closed. He'd had a few exchanges with Jack online and found the man's insight refreshing.

  The whole concept of Andro culture was the celebration of the truly masculine. Again, not that Edgar didn't have feminine gay friends, but Andros focused on the masculine essence that came naturally to them. These were the gay men who were more comfortable at a ballgame cheering for their favorite player than at a bar with the "girls." The idea was to promote a society where loving other men didn't require one to be effeminate. If one's nature was effeminate, one should be true to that nature, not forced to conform. Likewise, Andros should feel free to celebrate maleness without being excluded.

  It's been interesting watching society evolve. So many of us sci-fi nerds wondered if it'd be like 'Star Trek:TNG'; in some ways, yeah, I suppose it is. HC's, medi
cal advancements, clean energy and all that jazz. In other ways, not so much. Gender lines didn't blur and become a non-issue like we thought. Instead, they grew even more sharply defined. Of course, some found that confusing as hell, but in the end, the focus was on people, not plumbing.

  Laws finally caught up with the times and discrimination was abandoned as an outdated construct. Except, of course, on Genesis, but that came later. Everybody can become as educated as they want to be; everyone has equal access to employment; no one bats an eye about gender or orientation anymore. By not making all genders the same, but rather defining and celebrating their differences, yet making all people equal under the law, we humans finally got our shit together.

  There are currently fifteen recognized genders and orientations on Earth. Don't even get me started on alien variations! There are the 'obvious' ones: hetero-male, hetero-female, homo-male, homo-female, bi-male, bi-female, trans-male post-op, trans-female post-op, trans-male non-op, trans-female non-op, asexual, polys, Andros, Femmas, and Synths, those who only identified in Synthesis.

  And all the fractionalized politics that used to go with 'non-traditional' gender/orientation are gone. It's odd, yet refreshing, to not have the various groups at each other's throats for what they see as the best piece of the pie. Shit, these 'groups' are more sociological designations than anything else. Now that everybody's part of one big, happy family, activist groups based on gender and orientation are extinct. Sure, there are ladies' and gents' social clubs, but such venues exist for all genders and orientations, should they choose to go. No, gents aren't allowed in ladies' clubs and vice versa, but that's merely because we no long believe that everyone has the same social needs regardless of orientation and gender. There's no such thing as 'one size fits all' anymore; gender and orientation differences are recognized and validated as part of a normal, healthy society.

  Enough of that, though. Right now, there's one gender I'm looking for, or rather a member of one particular gender. And, if luck is with me, I'll soon be very close to his member!

  Luck had apparently decided to grace Edgar with its presence as he soon spotted Sterling seated at a table with two other club members, one hetero-male, one pair-bonded Andro. Edgar knew and liked both of them. If anything, he was in for some good conversation and, glancing at the vid-screen, a good boxing match. However, he still wanted to get Sterling alone for some jabs of a decidedly different nature.

  Sterling glanced in Edgar's direction, his face lighting up as he waved Edgar over. The other two men turned to see who'd caught Sterling's eye. Both of them grinned from ear to ear upon seeing it was Edgar; they enjoyed his company and, he knew, had probably put two and two together realizing they'd likely be losing their boxing buddy soon.

  If Sterling's head-to-toe examination was any indication, they were right. The thickly muscled man was practically devouring Edgar with his eyes. He licked his lips and Edgar's cock twitched. Sterling was not just an amazing top, he was a perfect specimen of manhood. He was an impressive six feet tall, unusual in today's world, and an avid gym goer. Tonight, he wore a skin-tight short-sleeved shirt that barely contained his biceps and pecs. The light beige shirt was in perfect contrast with Sterling's caramel-colored skin.

  As Edgar approached the table, the three men stood to greet him. Edgar gave Sterling his own quick head-to-toe, pleased to find the man had on well-worn jeans that looked painted on due to his massive legs. The jeans also highlighted Sterling's lengthening erection. Edgar knew from experience that the man's dick ranked in the Holy Shit! category of size, coming in at ten inches long. Edgar's abdomen clenched as his own arousal jumped another notch. Sterling caught Edgar checking out his package and smiled, full lips parting to reveal straight white teeth. The smile reached his brown eyes, making them sparkle. He kept his dark hair cut close to the scalp, but not so close that he appeared balding. The only sign that the man was in his forties was the slight graying at his temples, something that only made him more attractive, in Edgar's opinion.

  Edgar shook hands with the two other men, Tomas and Jon, exchanging the usual pleasantries before turning to Sterling. The man extended his hand and Edgar shook it, enjoying the firm grip and the hungry look in Sterling's eyes. Edgar figured it wouldn't be too long before Sterling excused the two of them for the evening.

  "It's good to see you again, Edgar," Sterling said, the quiet, powerful voice sending shivers through Edgar's body. "Join us? We're watching the Basca - Ruiz match. So far, Ruiz is kicking Basca's ass and Tomas is very sad."

  "Yeah," Tomas chimed in, pulling a sad face. "I have a hundred credits riding on this and this one," he gestured at Jon, "is enjoying that fact more than is necessary."

  "Ha!" Jon said. "If you can't stand the heat..." he left the saying hanging.

  "Wait until the next match," Tomas said. "Andres is going to flatten Michaels and that hundred credits plus some is coming right back to me."

  "You wish," laughed Jon. "Andres couldn't beat his shadow."

  Sterling chuckled. "Those two," he said to Edgar.

  Edgar smiled. Tomas and Jon bet against each other on everything, all in good fun. "Sure, I'll sit for a bit," he said to Sterling. The four men sat and Sterling signaled a passing waiter.

  "What's your flavor?" he asked Edgar as the waiter approached.

  "Scotch, neat," Edgar replied. Sterling placed the order, along with a dirty martini for himself and two beers for Tomas and Jon.

  "How've you been," Sterling asked Edgar, resting a big hand on Edgar's thigh.

  Edgar thrilled at the touch. He looked at Sterling and said, "Really good, thanks. Keeping busy with writing, doing lots of running. How about you?"

  "Well, you know, "Sterling replied, "Keeping myself busy. My client list is almost at capacity and, if all goes well, the last few slots will be filled by the end of the month."

  "That's great, Sterling!" Edgar said. Sterling was a private personal trainer, one of the best, and a full client list meant the man was not only busy, but raking in the credits.

  "Thanks, Edgar," Sterling said. "I'm having a great time with it. I -" Basca chose that moment to make a startling comeback and Ruiz lay on the mat, apparently knocked out. The room exploded with a mix of cheers and expressions of dismay.

  "Pay up, buddy!" Tomas said, laughing.

  Jon shook his head and chuckled. "Never even saw it coming," he said. "Double or nothing on Andres - Michaels?"

  "Sure, why not," answered Tomas. "I'm always glad to take your credits!"

  "You're on!" Jon answered. "Prepare to lose your credits!"

  The waiter delivered the fresh round of drinks and the foursome chatted and joked as they drank, waiting for the next match. As always, the scotch was superb and Edgar savored every sip. He was down to the last swallow when he felt Sterling's hand move up his thigh to rub against his hard-on. Edgar glanced at Sterling and the man downed the last third of his drink in one gulp. The announcer's voice cut over the chatter in the room, heralding the beginning of the next match. Sterling gave Edgar's crotch one last squeeze and withdrew his hand.

  Game time! I know that look. He's ready to party. So am I; one more grope and I'd be on my knees under the damn table. I am so fucking ready for this; I need his cock in me and I need it now!

  Indeed, Sterling was ready and he interrupted Tomas and Jon's good-natured ribbing to announce that he and Edgar would be leaving them. The other two men exchanged knowing glances before turning to Edgar and Sterling.

  Tomas spoke first. "Have fun, you two!" he winked and licked his lips. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

  Jon jumped in, "That leaves 'em a pretty long list to choose from, according to your wife!" He laughed as Tomas gently punched him in the arm. "Care to take a bet on who comes first?" he grinned.

  Edgar threw his head back and laughed. He enjoyed this type of joking with his friends. Sterling was smiling like that cat that ate the canary and shaking his head. "The better bet is on who comes the most times," he
retorted.

  This got a slightly surprised look from Sterling that quickly became a hungry stare as the other two men hooted and howled. "Alright, get on with it, you two! I wouldn't take that bet if you were fronting me the credits!" Jon said.

  "Seriously," added Tomas. "I expect I'll be at work tomorrow morning by the time you two get done!"

  Sterling and Edgar both stood, smiling. They shook Tomas' and Jon's hands as the other two men stood. "It was good seeing you," Edgar said. "Have fun with the match!"

  "Yeah," Sterling joined in. "I hope you enjoy your match as much as we're going to enjoy ours!" Edgar's cock twitched and he felt the wetness of the first pre-cum slick his cock head. The other two men laughed and waved Sterling and Edgar away, sitting down and immediately getting lost in the new match.

  Edgar followed Sterling as he headed toward the door leading out to the gaming area and, ultimately, to the C-Zone, the club's nickname for the Carnal Entertainment Zone.

  CHAPTER 9

  The doors to the C-Zone barely shut behind them when Sterling spun, grabbed Edgar by the lapels and pushed him to the nearest wall. He flattened his palms against Edgar's broad shoulders and hungrily locked his mouth to Edgar's. Once over the initial surprise, Edgar responded eagerly, parting his lips and allowing Sterling's tongue inside. He grabbed Sterling's firm ass, grinding the man's erection against his own.

  "I love 'em, but I never thought we'd get away!" Sterling growled, pulling away. "I almost ripped your clothes off and took you right there on the table!"

  Edgar took Sterling's face in his hands and said, "I wouldn't have complained. Hell, I was about to slide under the table and blow you!"