by H. D. Nels
Brody nodded knowingly. “She’d be adjusting angles, positions, telling us to start or stop. It would be like working on the set of a porn shoot. I see your point, but I do like her idea of us two guys getting it on.”
The waiter left and Janet drained the rest of her drink after making short work of her lunch. Ian finished his and sat back to contemplate many things. He had been surprised at his friend and assistant’s request to watch him make out with another man. He wondered if maybe they should spend less time together so she could meet potential boyfriends. He also worried about Rene. He was still pissed off at the man, but he was absent longer than he’d ever been before. He made a note to check hospitals and would follow-up with someone at the police station, as well. His thoughts were interrupted when Brody approached and asked if they cared for dessert. Ian whispered, “If she asks for a banana, or anything else resembling a phallic symbol, tell her you’ve run out.” He raised his voice to a normal level. “I’ll take a coffee, black.”
Janet said, “I’ll have another drink, and maybe a banana split. Put the nuts at one end and all the whipped cream at the other. I don’t think a cherry would be appropriate, and don’t cut the banana in half lengthwise. I prefer mine uncut.” She grabbed a drink menu and began fanning herself. Her fantasy was apparently getting her hot and bothered. She giggled again and Ian figured the liquor didn’t help.
Brody looked at Ian and winked. He turned back to Janet and said, “I’m sorry, but we’ve run out of bananas and nuts, plus the dang whipped cream is sour. I can get you a slice of pie. We’ve got awesome graham wafer cream or coconut cream pie. Both are to die for.”
When dessert had been served Brody looked around. It was pretty quiet now that the lunch crowd was gone, and too early for the cruisers to start their rounds. “Mind if I sit for a moment? I might have an idea that could help with your dilemma.” He laughed and shook his head at the sparkle in Janet’s eyes. “Not for a live sex show, the other problem. I know the Help Line is always looking for volunteers. It’s intended to be a crisis intervention resource, but they have many callers who are regulars, mostly shut-ins, lonely seniors, and likely many others, as well. They provide full training and the preference would be for the volunteers to offer one or two eight hour shifts per week. They’re staffed twenty-four-seven, so you would likely find a shift that works for you. If you’re interested, I can get you the contact information right now.”
Ian didn’t even have to think about it. It sounded perfect for his needs. Despite Janet’s earlier promise, Ian paid for the meal and left a generous tip for Brody. The man was very entertaining, but after Rene, Ian felt he needed a break from men at the moment. Janet had finished her third dirty vodka and he took her arm to help her stand. He wondered what brought out this sudden need to get wasted on a workday. She’d explain in her own time. Brody returned with Ian’s receipt, and also a card with the phone number for Help Line Director, Sheila Broughton. He smiled when he noticed another number near the bottom. Brody had printed his name so that the o was shaped like a heart.
* * * *
“Hi, Ms. Broughton, thanks for taking the time to speak with me. I’d like to volunteer.” Ian decided he’d be open and honest from the start. He knew if he tried to hide anything it would likely come out later. Plus, he needed her to be willing to provide the court with a weekly summary of his commitment. They had gone through a phone interview to summarize his skills and empathy. He included his time coaching a minor baseball team once, a long time ago, which would likely earn him sympathy points. They had arranged for an in-person interview for the following day.
After the telephone interview, Ian called the hospitals in the area. There had been no Rene Bouchard or John Doe admitted during the last month. Ian blew out a breath, relieved but also concerned. His next call was to the precinct where he’d filed the missing person report. There had been no leads or information, but he was assured the case was being taken seriously, even if Rene had a history of doing this Houdini stunt in the past.
Ian busied himself reviewing budgets, fundraising schemes, and the schedule for upcoming events. His mind wandered to Brody, the hunky waiter, and wondered if he should see if the guy was all talk. He decided it would be after his interview with Sheila Broughton. He had no intention of meeting her even slightly hung over or reeking of raunchy man-sex with Brody. His loins stirred at the thought of raunchy man-sex with Brody.
Ian frowned when his assistant put a steaming mug of coffee on his desk. “How can you look so perky after yesterday? In fact, how can you even stand up after those vodkas? And did I mention that you’re a shameless hussy?”
Janet rubbed his shoulder. “Easy there, tiger, you’re getting yourself all worked up. I only had three drinks, and why would longing to watch my gorgeous boss and that adorable waiter getting it on make me a hussy?”
Ian snickered. “I said, shameless hussy. Are you telling me that part was correct? And those three drinks likely emptied the 40 ounces of booze that was in the bottle.”
Janet blew him a kiss and waltzed out of the office. Ian seriously needed some of what she was on. He started reading the email with the policy and procedures manual from the Help Line. He wondered if, since it was sent to him before the final interview, he might have been accepted. Surely, they didn’t want the world to know the inside workings of the place. He was looking forward to this more than he thought he might.
* * * *
Ian dressed as he would for any job interview. He took this very seriously. He was surprised at how many rules and protocols were in place for volunteers. He’d made his way to Sheila Broughton’s office and knocked. She greeted him at the door and indicated that he should sit beside her instead of across from her desk. He admired that openness. She got right to the point. “Ian, my only concern is that you’re doing this solely for the sake of avoiding a criminal record. I’ve seen people do that in the past and it didn’t go well for a few of our clients. Despite the controversy, telling an alcoholic to switch to light beer, or a crack addict to fan the fumes into his mouth instead of inhaling from a pipe, didn’t seem to work. One volunteer coached a potential suicide case to use rope instead of a gun, to save the loved ones from having to pay for a cleanup.”
Ian looked at her and shrugged. “Sheila, I don’t think any of those suggestions would be helpful. My understanding of the process is to listen and try to empathize with what the caller is feeling, not to encourage negative thoughts. I’d probably crap if someone called saying he wanted to die and was about to make it happen, but I’d try to help the caller find something, anything, that might give a glimmer of hope for the future.”
Broughton smiled. “We’ve also got regulars who know the rules. They may call if they feel it necessary, but they have to give way so others might get a chance to talk. Would you feel comfortable telling someone you have to move on without giving them the impression that they aren’t important?”
Ian looked at her and thought of bringing his office etiquette into play. Then he decided he’d bring his Rene-etiquette into play instead. “My ex always wanted me front-and-centre in his life. There were times when I’d have to tell him to back off and let me be in the moment with my current project. I’d tell him he was important and our brief absence would only reinforce that feeling. It worked every time.”
Sheila laughed. “A sense of humour will carry you well here. There are things that will tap your energy. I’d like to show you the layout and introduce you to the duty staff if you have the time.”
Ian got the tour, and met three people who were presently staffing the phones. There were five stations, but apparently, it was evening and nights when most calls came in. There was a course all new volunteers took at the centre, and it was scheduled for evenings.
Sheila completed the court documents which Ian dropped off in person on his way back to the office. He was finished for the day but wanted to work on a few files to keep his mind focused. Unfortunately, it kept driftin
g off to Brody. With a stretch and sigh, followed by an adjustment of his equally drifting penis, he made his way back to the bar.
Ian got to Chaps and nonchalantly wandered over to the section he had visited with Janet. He glanced around before sitting. An exuberantly cute-but-not-Brody waiter bounced over. Ian looked at him for only a moment before he spoke. “Hi, I was here yesterday and met with Brody. He had information for me and I was hoping to follow-up with him. Is he working today?”
Cute-but-not-Brody beamed a smile at him. “He’s working section three, but there are lots of open tables right now. Let me show you.” There was no mistaking the exaggerated swish to the man’s hips as he forged ahead of Ian. Once they got to what was obviously section three, but only to the cute waiter with the nice ass, he motioned for Ian to sit. It didn’t take long before the object of his desire strutted over. His eyes immediately lit up.
“Where’s the chaperone?” He looked around. “Are you out on your own and in my bar? Who’s going to witness or videotape all the things we’re going to do to each other?” Brody chuckled, which told Ian the man was playing with him.
He glanced around briefly before zeroing in on those plump lips. “Dress rehearsal. I figured we should perfect our moves before putting on a live show for anyone. I’d be embarrassed to hell if I forgot my lines while my cock was buried in your tight ass.” He widened his smile.
“Oh fuck, oh yeah, repeated over and over. How hard can it be to remember that?” Brody had an equally devilish smile.
“Oh fuck yeah, oh-oh yeah, fuck. Fuck yeah. I don’t know, somehow with you I think I’d forget my name.” Ian smirked.
“Okay, I’m off in thirty, unless we need to take this to the washroom now. Hell, we can do both. You’re one hot man, even without that cat woman wanting to watch your balls swing as you pound my ass. We should let her do that one day.”
Chapter Two
Ian got home barely before it was his normal time to get up and shower for work. He’d enjoyed his time with Brody, over and over. Usually, when he jerked off he’d go soft and fall asleep, but with this man, his dick simply refused to go limp and had no desire to stop. Each orgasm had been as good as, or better than the previous. He’d known for years that men could be multi-orgasmic. It hadn’t happened to him often but he figured that was more his state of mind rather than a physiological situation. Brody knew how to keep him cranked and it seemed he was as good at stimulating his new friend.
A Detective Klassen left a message and Ian immediately called back. He’d introduced himself and waited while Klassen got his notes. “Someone matching Rene’s description had been seen walking arm in arm with another male toward a car in a parking lot near the motel where you had been arrested.” Klassen hesitated and cleared his throat. “The witness said they were, um, ‘necking like horny teenagers’. Then she huffed that such behavior was only acceptable when the teenagers were of opposite genders. Mr. Lawlor, is it possible that your former partner might have run off with another man? You did say…” Ian could almost hear the blush over the phone. “You said that you considered the pair of you to be in a relationship, but felt that sometimes your partner considered you to be friends with benefits or fuck buddies.”
Ian sighed. “It seems so strange that he’d ignore his few belongings, not contact his family, and leave a nice leather jacket in the motel room where he was meeting someone for a job interview.” He blew out his breath. “Motel room for a job interview. Damn, I’m such a blind fool. Still, if you do hear anything I’m sure his family is worried about him. Thank you for the update.”
A gentle ringtone prevented Ian from slipping into a sorry state. He was about to get all morose when the sound from his phone reminded him of the night he’d shared with Brody draining their tanks. He’d be a hypocrite to sulk. He was cheerful when he answered.
“You sound chipper this morning. I must have done something right last night.” Brody chuckled.
“Baby, you did everything right and I’m chipper because I’m still basking in the afterglow of your attention. How can I help you?” Ian wished Brody could see the grin he felt pulling at his cheeks, or the tightness forming in his crotch.
“I was wondering if I could trouble you for a small bit of assistance. I understand if you’d rather not. We don’t know each other very well—yet.”
Ian didn’t hesitate. “I’m yours, what can I do for you?” His mind immediately filled with impure thoughts. Do to you.
“I have this problem that started a couple of hours ago. It’s driving me nuts. No wait, I shouldn’t talk dirty, it’s driving me to distraction. It’s hard to ask a new friend for a hand—damn, talking dirty again. I mean, it’s difficult asking a new friend for assistance.” Brody paused and chuckled.
Ian grinned. “You’ve got a hard-on and you want me to help you get it under control. I can slip out for a break and slip in to help with your problem.” He paused briefly. “I heard from the police. A witness apparently saw my ex and another man being very up close and personal, so I guess he’s safe and on his way to a new life.”
Brody’s tone lowered. “I’m sorry, Ian. I don’t know you well but that seems like a fucked up thing to have had happened. If you’d rather come by to talk I’m okay with that.”
“Brody, I don’t want you to think I’m only looking for someone to fill a gap. I miss Rene, but I’m also growing to like you. Whoa, now I’m talking dirty. If you get yourself into that position, with your legs over your head while I fucked you and you came in your mouth, I’ll come find you and get with the moment.”
* * * *
The day passed quickly and Ian was on his way to his first training session for the Help Line. Technically, these courses were part of his program and counted toward his volunteer time. He’d asked Sheila to not include them. She’d raised an eyebrow but nodded her agreement.
There were four other volunteers starting out with Ian. They all grabbed a coffee and sat in the boardroom. Sheila gave each person two small pieces of white cardboard folded into an inverted V-shape along with a black marker. “First off, I’d like each of you to print your first name on the side of the cardboard facing out. As soon as you’ve done that, I’d like you to print your line name on the other one, same deal, print facing out. Take a few minutes to think of your alter-ego. This is who you are when you’re on the phones. It is to provide you with an emotional buffer between you and your caller. In most cases, you won’t need it, but there may be times when things are intense. Your line name will be a coat of armor to protect you.” She looked around as the group printed their real names. “We also want to protect your identity. That bit of anonymity is part of due diligence to keep everyone safe. We don’t want any callers to form attachments and try to seek you out. Take a few minutes to think of a name that you’d be comfortable with.”
Ian grabbed his marker and in big bold letters printed BENNY. He noticed Sheila smile and nod. “Ian, now that you’ve already got yours, please stand and introduce your line persona to the group. Maybe tell us about how that name is meaningful to you.”
Ian stood and glanced around. “When we’re working together here I’m Benny. It was one of two choices that came to mind, mainly because when I was driving here I heard Elton John on the radio. I figured Benny would be a better choice than the last song they played when I was parking, Lola, by the Kinks.” The room erupted in laughter.
“Okay Benny, remember to keep in character when you’re on shift.” She had each person stand and introduce their new self and how they chose the name. Once that was done she continued. “Benny gave us a fine example of how important it is to keep a sense of humour. I’ll reinforce that again and again. You’re not here to take on anyone’s problem. You’re an ear and a resource. As soon as Benny leaves this building he is Ian. Benny stays here.”
Sheila spent an hour going over the mandate, rules, and legalities of the service they provide. After a short break for refreshments, they resumed. Ian thought
it would be dry and boring. He was pleasantly surprised at how engaging Sheila proved to be. She spoke of tactics in communicating such as asking leading questions rather than ones that might be answered with yes or no. She suggested they use open-ended sentences such as ‘tell me how you’re feeling’ instead of ‘are you feeling sad today?’
“You will often encounter hesitation from callers. They want to feel safe and anonymous. Reassure them that we do not have call display or any number retrieval software available. I’ll run through a few scenarios with you, and then I’d like you to spend a bit of time getting to know your line mates. By that I mean know the personality they will use when actually speaking with callers. By the end of the training, we’ll take the time to get to know one another—the person behind the mask so to speak.”
* * * *
Once he got home and settled in for the evening, Ian realized how nice his last few days had been. He totally enjoyed the training session and meeting his fellow volunteers. One more thing that was immediately noticeable—he wasn’t criticized for putting the toilet paper roll on with the end hanging over the front instead of behind. That was one of the many minor things Rene had to argue about. It was peaceful, even though he knew he should feel guilty for such thoughts. Then there was Brody. Thoughts of that gorgeous man should have had him running in terror instead of sitting there popping an uncomfortable erection. He picked up his phone and pretended to dial.
