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Ted’s Time: A Gay Tale of Obsessive Love by Amy Stranhouse
He snuggled closer to Wayne, nestling his nose in his long brown hair, savoring the piney scent of his imported German cologne.
“You were amazing, as usual,” Ted commented, admiring the dimples that made Wayne look more like a mag cover model than a high paid escort.
Wayne glanced at the wall clock. It read four minutes to eleven. ‘Just four more minutes,’ he thought to himself.
The luminescent night light caused a dim hue to compliment the flickering candles on the bedside table.
A spider suddenly descended, hanging on a lone strand of thread.
Ted swiped at it and the spider scurried back up the way it came.
“I thought maybe, if you were near the downtown core tomorrow,” Ted pleaded, “that we could maybe catch lunch at noon at that new Italian café on Milner Avenue?”
Wayne listened to Ted’s words as they swirled around his brain. He then sighed in utter frustration. The kid didn’t have a clue about life. It took money to pay the bills, not to mention keeping his eighty thousand dollar BMW insured and in his name.
“At noon I’ll be with a businessman at the Chase Manhattan Bank tower.”
“Doing what?” Ted asked naïvely.
“What do you think?”
“Taking out a loan?”
Wayne rolled his weary eyes at the ceiling. “Yeah, right kid. A loan, whatever.”
He again glanced at the wall clock. It now read two minutes to eleven. ‘Just two more minutes,’ he thought to himself.
“You’re not watching the clock, are you?”
“No,” he lied. “Just enjoying what’s left of our time together is all.”
A light breeze filtered in through the partially open apartment window, causing the curtain to rise and fall like the chest of a man on life support.
Wayne cast one final glance at the nineteen year old Ted, then kissed him flush on his ruby red lips before giving a playful tug to his impressive shock of equally long, shoulder length hair.
“Until next time,” he whispered, rising off the bed, and causing Ted to swing his eyes frantically toward the clock. “Time already?”
“Yes, time already. But you know the saying, how times flies when everything is simply hunky dory.”
“Couldn’t you stay a little while longer?”
Wayne allowed his gorgeous blue eyes to gaze into the bewildered face of his desperate younger nemesis. “I have an appointment immediately following this one. Besides, I don’t do free time, and you rarely have money leftover when you pay for the hour.”
“Why does it always have to be about money?” Ted lamented, secretly pulling a gift box out from under his pillow.
“What else should it be about?” Wayne shot back, immediately regretting the words once they exited his usually careful mouth.
“It should sometimes be about the fact that I am head over heels in love with you. I want you to give up the escort business and stick with me. Now that the Supreme Court has upheld gay marriage, we could tie the knot, and quite easily spend the rest of our lives being happy together.”
“Same thing you said when you ended your time with me last week, and the week before that,” Wayne lamented, adding, “I try never to get emotionally involved with my clients.”
“I find it hard to believe that all I am to you is a client.”
Wayne now whipped on his pants and slung his t-shirt on over his head. This was the time with Ted he hated the most, the very ending. That was because Ted was a whiner, and so emotionally attached to him that Wayne was beginning to wonder if the kid wasn’t developing serious psychological issues. Still, none of that really mattered as long as Ted could keep coming up with his lofty three hundred cash for the one hour’s worth of acrobatic humping and sucking.
“I want you to top next time,” Ted whispered.
“I’ll do whatever you want when it’s your sixty minutes, kid.”
“And please stop calling me kid. I’m a grown man, a full nineteen years old.”
“And I’m a full thirty-five, almost twice your age.”
Ted’s eyes were now desperate and wild. He knew from experience that once Wayne’s t-shirt was on, then the man of his dreams would walk out of his life in just ten short seconds and not come back for another seven days.
He was therefore now desperate to prolong his lover’s stay. “Here, before I forget, this is for you,” he said softly, handing Wayne the gift box.
“Thanks,” Wayne managed. “I’ll open it later, when I have time.”
“No, you’ll open it now.”
Wayne became flustered, he was officially on his own time. “Fine,” he spat out, whipping the box back out of his pocket. “I’ll open it now.”
Wayne next became nervous. The box was not an oblong shape. Too square to be a bracelet. Surely not a necklace? Wayne wore bracelets but never necklaces. He knew the kid wouldn’t be stupid enough to buy him something he might never wear. Or would he? The only other Jewelry that seemed appropriate for such a sized box was…was…oh surely not, for heaven’s sake, surely fucking not. He hadn’t bought him a ring, had he? Rings were personal, and meant to be worn. A sign of ownership really. But Wayne was not owned by any man and never could be. He was someone that was as careful about protecting his valuable time, as he was his finicky heart. His time could be bought, but his heart could not, unless of course that the man doing the buying was a multi-billionaire. Wayne paused at the thought. For the right price he might end up doing just about anything, included partaking in a sham of a marriage. Such marriages of convenience did have their advantages. Even the bible had said that “money answereth all things.” But it had also said that “money was the root of all evil.” Still, bibles were best left in the hands of slick tongued orators with nothing better to do than pass the collection plate and preach on the virtues of faithful tithing. Wayne had his own way of extracting money from tightwad pockets, and that was to ignite his stunning dimples with a dazzling white smile, all while injecting warmth and charm into his formidable baby blues. And who could resist a man with rippling abs and a muscular chest? Especially when such a chest glistened ever so sweetly when sweat soaked under bright ceiling lights. Wayne often wondered if that’s why Ted always insisted they make love with the lights on. First, the lights used high wattage, almost like a damn heat lamp, and that coaxed just about as much sweat out of him as Ted’s persistent, sucking lips did. Being forced to keep an approaching orgasm at bay for a full sixty minutes was not always easy, although Wayne had learned to master the procedure. At stake was three hundred dollars an hour. If he could only keep his dangerously turned on balls from firing for a paltry fifteen minutes, then no one was going to pay for a full hour, not when a mighty rod had shrunken like some wimpy marshmallow.
Two minutes after eleven. Wayne rolled his eyes in disgust at the ceiling once again. He had wasted a whole two minutes day dreaming. His next appointment was at noon, and that was clear across town, and he hadn’t even eaten yet. He would need to stop at some miraculously fast, fast food place and grab a quick bite.
“Go ahead. Open it.”
A jolt of reality brough
t Wayne crashing back to earth. The kid again. The voice was beginning to really grate on his nerves. Talking of marriage…buying him presents…begging for freebies…Wayne had had enough.
“Fine, I’ll open it,” he said, blurting out the words as if they were being forced out of him like toothpaste out of a tube being squeezed and rolled.
He ripped away the bow and paper, then flipped the tiny box open quickly.
The ring was too stunning for words. A giant flawless diamond set in white gold with clusters of smaller diamonds in a thick band. If it was real, it must have cost a fortune. In the mid five figures. Wayne just kept staring. It certainly looked real. No way could Ted ever hope to pay for something like that. Who would give him so much credit? Had he stolen it?
Still, Wayne was not one to look at a gift horse in the mouth. He was not one to turn down money, nor gifts that could be translated into large sums of money. Wayne did the calculations. If he accepted the ring, he would only have to wear it whenever he was humping the kid, then he could put it up until he and the kid one day stopped seeing each other altogether. The he could sell it without the kid knowing he had. Wayne had, after all, been on the verge of upping his hourly rate from three hundred to four hundred. The kid was not going to be able to afford sixteen hundred a month. Unless, of course, he stopped eating, or perhaps turned to crime? And then it dawned on Wayne that Ted just might turn out to be the goose that laid the golden egg. Why kill a goose if it was showering you with gold? As handsome and as buff and as enticing and irresistible as Wayne was, competition among the good escorts was really getting fierce. Wayne now supposed that good business was where you found it. The country was also headed into a damn recession. People could only pay for sex if they had money, and lots of it.
“Aren’t you going to put it on?”
Wayne sighed and slipped it onto his finger. It sparkled like the damn queen’s jewels. No way was it fake, and no way did it cost less than twenty grand. Something, somewhere was beginning to smell fishy. Where would a mixed up kid like Ted find such an exquisite piece of jewelry like that?
“It looks expensive.”
There was no answer. For once, the kid seemed unwilling to talk dollars. But if he whined over always being broke, then it was very intriguing as to how he could possibly afford such a heavenly trinket.
Five minutes after eleven. Why was he not budging? The trip across town would take at least forty minutes, and that was if traffic was promising. His window of opportunity for grabbing a quick burger somewhere was rapidly dissipating. Still, a ring like this? How’d he get it?
“How could you afford it?”
“You think I stole it, is that it?”
Wayne shrugged. “I don’t want to be charged by the cops with wearing something that belongs to someone else.”
“I didn’t steal it. I sold my comics.”
A light bulb went off in Wayne’s head. He had heard Ted mention on several occasions how he had some comics in a safety deposit box, and how they were number one marvels, like Spiderman, The Avengers, and The Fantastic Four. He had never mentioned a value, but Wayne had watched shows about antiques and was always amazed over how some comics fetched thousands of dollars with the blink of an eye. Wayne was flattered that the kid had sold his pride and joy collection to desperately solidify his fledgling relationship with a gorgeous escort. Still, Wayne was now forced to wait for the other shoe to drop. Just what did the kid want in return for forking over such a remarkable jeweled bauble? He didn’t have to wait long.
“It’s an engagement ring. I want us to get married.”
Wayne shook his head from side to side. Again with the marriage fantasy. Didn’t the damn kid get it? Wayne was an escort. A guy that saw other guys for sex in exchange for money. The ring was nice, and the kid meant well, but Wayne cleared over five grand a week. And had, on a few occasions, managed to nail down ten grand during conventions and times when some older rich men got really, really lonely.
“And would you want to marry an escort who worked humping other men? I fuck two or three guys a day, kid, and only take Sundays off. Is that what you want? To marry a guy who fucks other guys?”
“You could quit and get a real job.”
His words made Wayne chuckle. “As in real job you mean one that pays twenty dollars an hour as opposed to one that pays three hundred? Fuck that. I live in a ritzy neighborhood where the houses start at four thousand square feet. Twenty bucks an hour wouldn’t even pay for my garage, much less my home. Get real, kid.”
“Money isn’t everything. You could sell your house, and come move in with me.”
Wayne laughed. “Move into this tiny apartment? I have closets in my house bigger than your entire place. Here, take back your ring. I love presents, especially nice ones like this ring, but I won’t accept presents if they come with preconditions or strings attached.”
He took off the ring, slipped it into the box, then dropped it onto the couch. “Take it back. I have no intention of ever getting married. If it wasn’t an engagement ring, you know, merely a friendship ring, then yeah, maybe I would take it for sure, but not if you’re expecting us to get married if-”
“Fine, a friendship ring then, with no preconditions or expectations that we’ll ever get married. Just a simple gift to say how much I love you. Only I’ll never expect anything in return, not now, not ever. Only take it. Just a symbol of my love for you, but nothing more.”
Wayne soaked up his words incredulously, then reached down and snatched the ring back up. It was too much of a temptation to simply ignore. “Fine, but just remember you said that. I’ll take your present. Thanks. Gotta run now.”
Ted arched up on tippy toes and planted a moist kiss onto the lips of the man of his dreams, then watched lovingly as he scooted like some scurrying jackrabbit through his front door.
Rain greeted him as he stepped into what the weather man had predicted would be brilliant sunshine.
“Fucking weather men,” he muttered angrily. “They couldn’t find their way out of bed without directions and a helping hand.”
XXX
Wayne pushed the glass door and walked quickly as it spun round in a full circle. He hated revolving doors because they always made him feel trapped for the full split second he was in there for.
He almost felt dizzy as he came out the other side, then headed for the large glass elevator that could usually hold up to thirty people. Although the occupancy chart on the wall boasted it could hold more than a normal elevator, he was a little suspicious of its claim that “up to thirty occupants could simultaneously use it.”
About half of that number were marched in behind him before the doors actually closed.
The walls, being made of sheer glass, afforded all inside a stunning view of the outside as it got set to whisk them higher and higher until the people down below would seem like mere ants and the cars like tiny toys.
He had heard that the building housed very wealthy clients, and that the rental charge per square foot was the highest in the city. The building certainly seemed glamorous enough to make those rental rumors a distinct probability.
He hit the eightieth floor button and patiently took other requests, feeling his empty stomach do back flips as the glass box surged effortlessly upward with astonishing speed.
In no time he was at his destination and stepped out onto hand-made Persian carpets with elaborate designs. The crystal chandeliers above were a symbol of opulence and gratuitous wealth. Just how much money did some people need? And why did they feel it was necessary to flaunt it? He decided that for business people like Irving Gerstein, it wasn’t so much about showing off as it was about intimidating those he did business with. He was just too fucking filthy rich NOT to sign humongous deals with.
He raised his hand to knock but the door opened without him laying a knuckle on it.
Irving was anxious, as usual, to get started. And Wayne was just as anxious to get it over with so he could find a nice res
taurant and plow some well-deserved food into his impossibly handsome face. He could hear his damn belly growling very loudly.
He had sought to check out the price of the ring first instead of stopping for a quick bite. Business before pleasure, was, after all, his unshakable motto, and it had served him so very well over the years.
Irving closed the door behind him before starting to claw at his clothes. Gone was the customary offering of a drink and small talk. Irving had definitely been dreaming all week long of Wayne’s ruggedly handsome mag cover face, amazing biceps, and rippling stomach. Now he was getting to drool over them all in person.
Wayne backed away for a moment, gently pushing his arms down, then eyed him cautiously. Irving was certainly what he would refer to as a multi-millionaire. If Ted could splurge on him and be so desperate not to lose him, then Irving could do the same.
“Sorry to have to tell you this, Irv, but the price has gone up. Increased expenses and all. I have to start charging you four hundred. Three hundred is now strictly for in calls. Doing out calls takes so much more time as you can well imagine. Extra gas, ten bucks for parking and-”
“Fine, fine, four hundred it is. Only just remember what I told you once before. Any hint of blackmail schemes and I go immediately to the cops. I won’t let an escort get away with extortion.”
“I’m not going to threaten to tell your wife or your clients that you prefer men’s bum holes to pussy holes if that’s what you’re worried about. I promise all my clients secrecy and discretion, and that’s what I deliver. I love money as much as the next guy, but I won’t threaten to push a guy out of the closet just for a few bucks in blackmail money. I’m grateful for loyal clients. My only rules are to wear a condom. After that, anything goes.”
“Is that why some strange guy called me a few minutes ago and warned me that I was being watched?” Irving said, a serious frown taking hold of his fifty year old face.
Wayne began to stew in his own suspicious and angry juices. He had told Ted he was coming to the towers today at noon to see Irving as usual. He now wondered if Ted had followed him on previous occasions, or maybe had snuck a peak at his phone or appointment book while he was in the shower. Ted was probably desperate enough to have done something stupid like phone his clients to try and scare them away from using Wayne. Ted obviously wanted him all to himself.
A Presidential Closet: Going Boldly Where No Gay Has Gone Before Page 2
