Pretty Man

by Ryan Field

  “A very large martini,” Roland said over his shoulder as Kenneth dragged him across the room.

  The two couples were seated at the same table. Whenever Josh opened his mouth to speak, Kenneth interrupted. If Josh came within an inch of Roland, Kenneth was there to sweep Roland away to another corner of the room. Marty, Kenneth’s new lover, just sat at the table looking at his watch and downing one martini after another. Josh tried to be friendly and get to know him better, but the guy only answered with shrugs and grunts.

  The food was bland, the room too noisy, and the chairs too small for a man as large as Josh. The only person Josh knew besides Roland was an older man who had hired Josh for a massage with a happy ending a year earlier. He followed Josh to the bathroom and handed him a business card. “My back has been acting up lately,” he said. Josh smiled and put the card in his pocket.

  The highlight of the night was when Roland stood and gave a small speech. He was the last one left from the original group that had started the Foundation. He was the only one who hadn’t been HIV positive; the others were all gone now. He took a deep breath and sighed, remembering all the people he had lost over the years. The entire room went silent. People sat up straight and stared at him with shimmering eyes. A man sitting across from Josh turned to his wife and whispered, “He could run for President. He reminds me of John F. Kennedy.” The wife responded, “But much better-looking.”

  Josh stared at the way Roland moved his hands and the way his eyes looked out over the crowd so effortlessly. He spoke with passion about his goals for the Ashley Foundation, and thanked everyone who supported it over the years. Just before the end of the speech, Roland looked over and winked in Josh’s direction. He may have been smiling at the crowd when they stood to give him a standing ovation, but the only thing he was thinking about was Josh’s dick.

  After the final speaker of the night, a little before midnight, Roland leaned into Josh.

  “Let’s go,” he hissed.

  Kenneth saw them stand and got up from his chair. “You’re not leaving now, are you, Doll?” His throaty voice was slurred; he’d been sucking down martinis all night. He tried to come around to the other side of the table, but his big feet got tangled in the chair. Kenneth fell into Marty’s shoulder.

  Josh laughed. “What’s wrong, Doll. Too many olives?” It came out too fast, as if he’d been waiting for Kenneth to stumble all night.

  Roland’s eyes popped. “It’s been a long day,” he said.

  “But I thought we could all go out somewhere afterward, Doll,” Kenneth said. Josh put his arm around Roland’s waist and pulled him closer. Roland leaned into Josh’s side, placed his palm on his chest, and said, “We really have to go. We’ll see you later in the week, at the black tie bingo event in Brooklyn Heights.”

  They left without hugging Kenneth; but Josh blew him a kiss. Roland waved good-bye to a few people he knew and moved quickly through the building. He’d donated a great deal of money, given his speech, and smiled all night; now it was time to get Josh into bed.

  Josh and Roland waited for the car in front of the building. “You must be tired from all this,” Josh said. “I don’t mind driving.” His hands were in his pockets and he bounced on the balls of his feet while looking at the ground.

  “I’m okay,” Roland said. “I don’t mind driving.”

  Josh smiled and took Roland’s hand. “Man, please let me drive. I don’t know if I can survive another trip downtown with you behind the wheel.”

  When the valet brought the car around and gave Roland the key, he handed it over to Josh. “Let’s go back through the park,” he said. “And I think you’d better put the top up and turn on the air conditioning.” The formal suit made his body itch, and small beads of perspiration dotted his hairline. But that wasn’t the only reason he wanted the top up.

  Josh was good with mechanical things. He had the top up in seconds. Almost as quickly, Roland had his face buried in Josh’s crotch. “Just relax and drive,” Roland murmured. “You’ll like this.”

  He slowly removed all his clothes and tossed them into the backseat. Once naked, Roland reached over and unzipped Josh’s black slacks. Josh’s eyes were wide; he kept looking back and forth between the road and Roland’s naked body. “This could be dangerous,” Josh said. But by that time Roland already had Josh’s fully erect cock in his right hand.

  “You don’t seem very nervous,” Roland said. “Your dick is as hard as a rock. You like it.” He banged the rigid cock against his lips a few times. Josh sighed and spread his legs wider.

  Roland didn’t waste time with a great deal of cock play that night. He wanted this to be a simple (but excellent) blow job; just a little something performed purely for Josh’s pleasure. He felt a little guilty about leaving him alone all night and was amazed at how well Josh had handled himself. He hadn’t spoken much all night, but the few things he did say came off as bright and articulate.

  Roland slowly leaned forward, one knee on the cream leather seat and the other on the floor. He placed his palms gently on Josh’s hard, hairy thighs and buried his face in his damp crotch. He inhaled the tangy aroma of Josh’s balls as if they were a wildly expensive perfume, licked them a few times, and sighed. Roland wrapped his warm lips around the head of Josh’s cock and slowly went down the shaft. He pressed his tongue against the bottom and sucked it all the way to the back of his throat. He began a quick, rhythmic suction, as if his mouth had been electronically designed for nothing but sucking cock. He could tell Josh was excited and already near the edge; his salty pre-come started to appear in small, clear drops. Roland swallowed back and sucked harder.

  Josh stopped for a red light and waved at a tall, young guy walking a large, black dog. Then he placed his palm on Roland’s head. “I’m getting close.”

  The car inched forward and Roland sucked faster. His cheeks depressed and his lips puffed; he reached between his own legs and jerked his cock with the same rhythm he used to suck off Josh. Roland’s entire jaw, tongue and lips were sucking now. He sucked hard and fast while jerking his own dick, and in no time sensed that Josh was ready to shoot a load into his mouth. Josh’s long legs moved back and forth. He gripped the steering wheel and leaned back against the seat so he could ejaculate.

  The car swerved to avoid someone on a bicycle. Then a taxi driver blew his horn and shouted to Josh, “Fuck you! Move the fuck over, Asshole!” While the aggressive driver shouted pejoratives at the Bentley, Roland drained Josh’s balls and jerked his own load under the front seat. Josh came so ferociously his mouth opened wide and his body spasmed up and down. He pressed his palm against the back of Roland’s head. “Ah, yeah.” It was a huge load that hit the back of Roland’s throat. He closed his eyes and swallowed every drop.

  When Josh’s cock was all clean and neatly packed back into his black slacks, Roland sat up in his seat. “You taste sweet,” he said, “like cupcakes.” Roland’s jaw was a little sore and his lips felt puffy.

  “I told you,” Josh said, “I’m safe. I’m HIV-negative and disease-free. If you want, I’ll get a test to prove it so you don’t have to worry.”

  “I’ll call my doctor and make an appointment for early this week,” Roland said. “For both of us. I know I’m negative too, but it can’t hurt to be completely sure. Then you can fuck me without condoms for the rest of this week.”

  Josh sat back and smiled. They were driving down Seventh Avenue South by then and were close to home. When they stopped at another red light, Josh smacked Roland’s naked leg and said, “Damn. That was the best blow job I’ve ever had. I’ll admit that I don’t like giving blow jobs all that much, but I sure like getting them.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Ah, Roland,” Josh said. “Maybe you should put your pants back on now.” Roland looked down at his body and smiled. He slowly turned around and reached into the backseat for his pants. “I hope no one saw anything,” he said, ass high in the air as he groped in the dark for his clothe
s, his legs spread wide.

  Josh laughed and pointed toward the street corner where pedestrians waited for the light to change. “No one but that old guy over there, who is now staring at your ass and licking his lips.”

  Roland turned quickly. An older man stood on the corner, both hands in his pockets, staring down into the car. The light changed. Josh hit the gas pedal hard.

  The parking garage where Roland housed the car was on Bleecker Street, not far from Magnolia Bakery. Roland had stuffed his socks and tie into his coat pocket. His lips were red, his shirt hung out of his pants, and his hair was messed. They got out of the car and Josh handed a handsome young parking attendant the keys. The young guy looked Roland up and down very slowly and smiled.

  Josh placed his palm on the small of Roland’s back as though claiming his prized possession and led him out the garage door. “I think that young parking attendant wants to get into your pants,” Josh said when they were on the sidewalk.

  “Really,” Roland said. “I hadn’t noticed.” But of course he had.

  Josh laughed. “Half the people in that restaurant tonight wanted to get into your pants. You’re like their hero or something.”

  “Did that bother you?”

  Josh reached down and grabbed Roland’s ass. “Why should it bother me? First, we have an arrangement. And second, I’m the one going home with you tonight.”

  Chapter Five

  Josh and Roland promised each other they wouldn’t fuck again until they’d seen the doctor and had HIV tests, because Roland wanted Josh to fuck him raw the next time. But the next morning Josh woke with a powerful hard on, quietly covered it with a lubricated condom, and reached down between Roland’s legs with two fingers to spread his ass cheeks apart. When Josh’s fingertips probed the lips of his hole, Roland immediately pointed his toes to the ceiling and opened his legs as wide as they would go. He thought about rolling over and spreading his legs. He knew Josh preferred fucking him on his stomach (most top guys he knew did), but this was his favorite position because he could see the ever-changing expression on Josh’s young face when he came.

  After the hour-long fuck session, Josh showered and Roland called his doctor and made an 11:00 a.m. appointment. This doctor had been his personal physician for many years; and when he heard why Roland wanted to see him, he fit him in that morning between appointments. Then Roland called Donna, the woman who wanted to meet with him to discuss his returning to work for the company he sold. He made a 1:00 p.m. appointment for lunch at a restaurant in Chelsea and reminded her that he wasn’t sure he even wanted to return on a part-time consultant basis.

  Roland had been the only child of elderly parents; and when they died, he took over the family business. He had been only 20 years old then, fresh out of college. But in spite of his youth, Roland took the small, profitable company and turned it into a global enterprise that employed thousands of people by the time he was 30. The natural cosmetics were sold everywhere, from Saks Fifth Avenue to QVC. The only reason he had sold the business was because the offer had been too good to refuse; you don’t find $400 million on the street every day of the week. The timing had been right, too. Kenneth had just left him and Roland was desperate for a life change.

  When they went downstairs later that morning, Russell offered to get the car. Roland told him they wouldn’t need it. The doctor was within walking distance, and he could take a cab to lunch.

  Josh and Roland waited in the doctor’s office for almost an hour before getting their rapid HIV tests. The doctor also took traditional blood samples that needed to be sent to a lab. They both tested negative with the rapid test, but the doctor warned that the best way to know for sure was still with the blood sample. The whole process took about a week, he said, but promised to speed things up so results could be had in a day or two. He promised to call the moment the results arrived.

  They were both smiling as they left. It was almost 1:00 p.m., and Roland knew he had to hurry to make his meeting with Donna. “You can come to lunch with me, if you want,” he told Josh on the street. “Though you might be bored out of your mind.”

  “I’ll go back down to Bleecker and spend some time with Hillary,” Josh said. “You go and have a good lunch. Meet me at the bookstore when you’re through.”

  “I don’t know how long this might last,” Roland said. It occurred to him that this was the first time he and Josh would be apart since Friday night. He didn’t mention this out loud though—this was a business deal, not the beginning of a relationship. “You can always go back to the house if you get bored.”

  Josh smiled. “I’m fine. I like being at the bookstore, and I’ve got a lot to gossip about with Hillary.” He leaned forward and placed his hand on the small of Roland’s back. Josh pulled him toward his chest and whispered, “And just think: It won’t be long now before I can get into your pants without a condom.” Josh spun around and loped down the street.

  Roland watched him go and smiled. Josh walked with heavy, bold steps like a football player pounding onto the field before a big game. Josh was the guy Roland had always been attracted to in high school and college; he was the perfect fit.

  The restaurant in Chelsea was called The Parlor. The host proudly told Roland the space was a converted building that had been a funeral parlor during the early part of the 20th century. Roland walked through the restaurant looking for Donna’s table. The entire place was stark and modern, with a Japanese Zen theme. The Parlor had bleached hardwood floors, aluminum furniture, and long rows of bamboo between the tables.

  A tall, thin woman in her mid-30s stood from a small table near a waterfall when she saw Roland. She had long, blond hair with a zigzagged part running down the center and wore a stylish pair of eyeglasses. Her pale gray suit was tailored. When she smiled, Roland could see she was wearing one of his company’s trademark lipsticks. She extended her right arm. “I’m Donna. It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard nothing but excellent things about you, Mr. Marcus.”

  “Thank you,” Roland said. “It’s nice to meet you, too. Please, call me Roland.” His stomach churned a little, and he wanted to turn around and run from the room. He’d been expecting an obnoxious, pushy type, with an expensive haircut and pinched lips. Instead, he knew at once he was going to like this woman: Her smile was warm and honest, and she gripped his hand firmly. It would be more difficult to turn down someone he liked.

  “Actually,” Donna said, laughing, “all I’ve been hearing is your name for the last year. You have no idea how much you’ve been missed.”

  “Ah well.” Roland sat down in the seat across from Donna. “This looks like a wonderful place,” he said, changing the subject. “I’ve never been here.”

  Donna leaned forward and lowered her voice. “I’ve never been here, either. One of the VP’s recommended it. Please don’t blame me if it’s awful.”

  “It’s fine,” Roland said. “Besides, we’re not really here for the food anyway.” They ordered California rolls. Donna wasted no time explaining that the parent company was willing to hire Roland back on a full-time consulting basis to run the entire natural cosmetic line; the very same company he sold for $400 million. He wouldn’t have to answer to anyone, the salary was beyond anything he expected, and he could run the business as if he never sold it.

  Or course, Roland would have to leave his yacht in Florida and live in New York again. And, there would be travel—but nothing different from what he’d been doing when he owned the business. Best of all, Donna would be working alongside him. Roland would still be the boss, but she’d be there as second in command to handle all the problems. When she discussed the line of product, she was articulate and well-versed. She knew his former business as well as he did.

  Roland listened quietly while she spoke. Donna’s voice was calm and relaxed. She wasn’t pushing him to do anything. She kept shrugging her shoulders and raising her hands in the air. “What’s the catch?” Roland finally asked.

  Donna smi
led. “I had a feeling you’d ask that.” She sat back, sighed, and placed both palms on the table. “You may or may not have been keeping up with things,” she said, “but since you sold to the parent company, buyers have avoided us completely. Not the large stores; we still have them. It’s the smaller outlets, in places you wouldn’t think are very important. But they all add up over time, and it’s created a huge gap in sales. Not to mention QVC. Since you’ve been gone, sales there have tanked. The viewers miss your monthly segments.”

  Roland folded his arms across his chest. He’d been so terrified of going on QVC the first time his knees actually shook, but it wasn’t long before he was laughing and joking on live TV. “I still don’t see how I can make a difference,” he said. “People move on.”

  “Roland, this is what I’ve been hearing from buyers. They say ‘Roland Marcus didn’t do things this way,’ and ‘Roland was so different to work with.’ With any new takeover there is a certain amount of change. It’s expected. And trust me, we haven’t made any drastic changes on any level. But these people want you, and they aren’t going to buy from us without you.” She shrugged her shoulders and sighed. “Frankly, I don’t know what you did to your customers over the years, but they are all in love with you and can’t get over the fact that you sold the business. There’s a little shop in Italy, of all places, that won’t even talk to me.”

  Roland pressed his lips together and stared down at his lap. The one important thing he’d always prided himself on was customer service. Sometimes he even lost money to make them happy, and in return he gained their respect. He could see that Donna was a sensitive young woman who seemed willing to go just equally as far. “Just how bad are things?” he asked.

  Donna removed her napkin and tossed it on the table. “Bad. They’re talking about dropping the entire line if things don’t improve within a year or so. Or at the very least, changing it completely and starting from scratch.”