How to Bed a Millionaire

by Dieter Moitzi

  “I was rather thinking we’d go down to the beach.”

  “Oh. How do we do that?”

  “Well, we have a direct access.”

  Now he has me intrigued. “Really?”

  “Yep. It’s down on the ‘B’ level.”

  Oh, yeah. The only button in the elevator I haven’t tried out yet. Because I didn’t know where it led to.

  I whistle. “Jesus—an elevator to the beach. Only millionaires can come up with such a thing.”

  He doesn’t answer, just beckons me to follow him.

  We take the elevator down to the “B” level, where we step out of the cabin. We’re not directly on the beach, but in a long, windowless corridor with a door at the end of it. Outside the door, a couple of steps directly hewn into the rocky incline descend steeply to a gate. Chao opens it with a key, and we step onto a narrow path. We’re some twenty meters above sea level.

  “Is this what I think it is?” I ask, indicating the path, which seems to follow the rugged coastline in meandering curves.

  “Lucky’s the guy who even guesses what you’re thinking,” Chao replies in a strange voice.

  “Is this the famous chemin des douaniers8?” I ask.

  Chao nods. “Which way do you want to go? Left or right?”

  “I don’t care. You lead, I’ll follow.”

  Chao turns right, and we start walking. The sun burns down on us, but thanks to the trees, bushes, and rocks overhanging the path, we have a semblance of shadow, and a light breeze caresses our skin. The view is spectacular. Below us, the waves are gently sloshing against the rocks and cliffs. Little coves open behind each curve, cliffs rise from the sea, and scrubland vegetation lavishly adorns each square inch of soil.

  We walk in silence.

  After a while, I notice that Chao keeps shooting furtive glances at my bulge. Does that make me feel uncomfortable? You bet. Mainly because I know the reason.

  Wince.

  The thing is, erm… if it weren’t high summer, I’d say it’s “Jingle Bells” time down there. Jingle all the way.

  Hey! Watch out! I can see you roll your eyes!

  So, yes. Maybe I’m not wearing boxer briefs beneath the gym shorts. I know—again.

  To my defense, I, er… don’t know what to say. It’s been a crazy night and a crazy morning, and I simply forgot, okay?

  Anyway. No need to point an accusing finger at me. What with Chao’s surreptitious glances, I’m already self-conscious enough as it is.

  So self-conscious, by the way, that I finally snap, “See something interesting down there?”

  Chao turns crimson. He clears his throat, coughs, and says, “Er, no. I was simply wondering if you were doing… you, again. The pointed tone of your question confirmed that you are.”

  “Well, er… yes.”

  “I should have invested in a bunch of boxer briefs, too, when I bought you the board shorts.”

  “What would you have chosen? Silk panties at 500 bucks apiece?”

  We walk on for some minutes.

  Chao appears morose, and I reckon it’s not because he doesn’t dare ogle my bulge any longer. No, I reckon he’s lost in his divorce-related thoughts, which can’t be very pleasant.

  I shouldn’t nudge him. But what would a friend do now? Enquire how he’s holding up? Ask him what’s wrong? Console him? Encourage him?

  I’m still trying to decide what to say when Chao takes a deep breath. “I… I wanted to tell you that I’ve been thinking. I guess I overreacted the other day, in the supermarket. You, er… you were right to be cross with me. I have no right to interfere in your life. I shouldn’t even have talked to you about boundaries. You can do what you want, after all. And if… flirting is your thing, I must accept it. Hell, even freeballing, as it is.”

  “No need to tell me. I know. I’m glad, though, that you came to that realization at last.”

  “Well… I just wanted to put it out there.”

  “Apologies accepted.” I smile at him.

  “I didn’t apologize…” He sighs. “Okay. Whatever.”

  I put my hand on his arm and make him stop. “That’s not all there is, is it? What’s the matter, Chao? I can see that you’re not okay.”

  He sighs again and looks at the yachts anchored in the roadstead. After some inner struggle, he says in a strained voice, “I saw you in town yesterday.”

  Hell, I didn’t expect that. How does this make him so… strained? “You did? When? Where? How? Why?” I ask.

  “You were ambling across the square before the Palais de justice.”

  “Several times, yes. I spent the whole morning doing my tourist thing. How come you saw me?”

  “Well, I was sitting in that office and looking out the window…”

  “Office? In the Palais de justice, the courthouse? What office?”

  Chao starts walking again, rather quickly.

  I hurry after him.

  “Just that office, you know,” I hear him say.

  “‘Office’ sounds ominous when related to a courthouse. Are you in trouble?”

  “No. I was seeing my lawyer if you must know.”

  Finally, here’s my confirmation of why he was having all those meetings, why he was in Nice yesterday, and why he’s been so gloomy.

  I touch his arm again. “Oh. The divorce. I’m sorry you have to go through this…”

  Now it’s his turn to stop. “Divorce? What divorce?”

  “Well, I pieced several things together and guessed what your mysterious meetings were all about. You’re getting divorced.”

  “You figured that out all by yourself? In that… cute little head of yours?” He has that sarcastic tone which I’ve become so used to. And which I missed these last two days. Plus, did he just call my head cute?

  “I’m more than good looks, mister,” I say lightly.

  “I never doubted it. But… a divorce? I’m twenty-four, Trevor.”

  “Is that supposed to be an argument?”

  “I’m not getting a divorce, Trevor. I was seeing my lawyer for business reasons.”

  “Oh.” I’m embarrassed. And relieved at the same time, I don’t even know why. “Business reasons? You have… a business?”

  “I had. But, er, someone decided to pull the plug. I needed to make sure the whole closing-it-down shit was handled properly. Everything’s settled now and I can focus on my life again. Or what remains of it.”

  “That means you’re not really a housekeeper?”

  “Well, technically, I guess I am one, at the moment.”

  I chuckle. “On paper, maybe. But technically? No chance. You don’t know shit about housekeeping.”

  Chao just shrugs, and we start walking again.

  He says, “You did it again.”

  “Did what?”

  “Sidetrack me. You don’t realize it, but you’re very good at it. My failed business wasn’t what I wanted to talk about.”

  “Oh. Sorry. What was it then?”

  “As I said, I saw you in town. You were with that guy…”

  Oh

  Oh. I guess he’s talking about Karim.

  Isn’t it ironic? I must have crossed that square before the Palais de justice five times, six times, seven times. But of course, Chao would look out the window and see me the only time I’m with my date.

  It’s none of Chao’s business, but still… Don’t ask me why I’m so reluctant to talk about my meeting with Karim. I couldn’t say. Or wouldn’t want to say.

  “With that guy…”, I repeat to win time.

  “Lean, tall, baseball cap, T-shirt, tracksuit pants. You two seemed very… chummy-chummy.”

  “Oh, that guy.”

  “A buddy of yours?” Chao pretends to observe a fly that is buzzing around us.

 
“I guess you could say that. Why are you asking?”

  He withdraws some more, his face turning into a mask. With his sharp features, he suddenly appears to be carved of stone. “Just trying to be a good friend.”

  Argh—that friends-thing gets old pretty fast if you ask me.

  “He’s the guy who delivered your Amazon parcel last week,” I volunteer. “He chatted me up that day, and I found him funny and interesting, so we had lunch together.”

  Chao inhales sharply and pinches his lips. “That’s what I feared… er, thought. Did you enjoy yourself?”

  “Yeah, it was nice. We met up on the Castle Hill. A beautiful place to have lunch.”

  “I see. And then…” He hesitates.

  “And then he accompanied me to my car, and that’s it. He was working.”

  “Oh. Okay. And you will see him again?”

  Why is he asking so many questions? Maybe I’m stupid, maybe I’m slow, but I don’t understand what’s going on.

  “Probably, yes. He’s cute. He’s fun. Hot body, too, from what I could see…”

  Chao suddenly bursts out, “He looks like a total wanker!”

  I beg your pardon? Isn’t that a bit of a stretch in terms of being an effing good friend?

  “Jesus—thanks for the warning!” I say drily. “What on earth would I do with a total wanker? Why would I want him to total-wank me, for example?”

  Chao gasps. “Oh my God. That was… graphic.”

  “For fuck’s sake! We’ve already been there, man! I’m gay. Like, I enjoy doing gay stuff with other guys. Not that we did any of that yesterday, but maybe we will…”

  “I thought you wanted a Prince Charming! And he’s neither a prince nor charming!” Chao shouts.

  “He was charming!” I’m getting louder, too. “And don’t be so goddam literal. I’m not looking for a real prince, you dickhead!”

  “That guy’s no good for you!”

  Now, that takes the cake!

  “Why would you say that?” I yell. “You don’t know him! He’s courting me, for God’s sake! If that’s not charming, I don’t know what is! Of course, you wouldn’t know. Nor understand!”

  We’ve stopped again, glaring at each other.

  “Why do you care, anyway?” I hiss.

  “We said we’d be friends!” Chao sounds almost desperate. “Friends want what’s best for each other.”

  “But you don’t fucking know what’s best for me!” I start stabbing him in the chest with my finger. “Reading two books about gay love doesn’t make you an expert! You know shit about me!” Stab, stab, stab. “If you want to be a real friend, stop being that snobbish, judgmental straight dude who thinks he can tell me how to live my life!” Stab, stab, stab.

  “Ouch—that hurts!” Chao pushes me away.

  I suppose he didn’t mean to do it so violently, but I stumble backward.

  Trip over a rock.

  Lose my balance…

  … and glide toward the edge of the cliff. I see the steep drop, the rocks, and the sea down below.

  I scream.

  From the corner of my eye, I see Chao jump forward. At the very last moment, when I think I’ll definitely topple over and brace myself to see my whole life pass before my mind, he sweeps me up in his arms.

  “Jesus Christ, Trevor!” he pants, completely freaked out. “You’re such an idiot!”

  He holds me so tight that I can feel his heat, his trembling body, his heaving chest, his pounding heart.

  Chao stares at me, his eyes black with fright and other emotions I can’t decipher.

  “Don’t you get it?” he whispers, and it sounds like a sob. “Don’t you see what you’re doing to me, you sweet, little, freeballing idiot?”

  I’m about to shake my head when…

  … he pulls me even closer. Presses his mouth on mine and kisses me.

  Hungrily. Frantically. As if this were the very last kiss before the end of the world.

  I’m… gobsmacked. Flabbergasted. On my ass. Not literally, of course, but figuratively.

  Not only by Chao’s sudden and surprising move.

  But by the kiss, which is… toe-curling. In a good way. You know, where your toes really curl up, and your entire body hums, and you get goose bumps despite the sizzling summer temperatures, and the whole universe vibrates in unison, and you forget who you are and where you are, because all you can feel and all you can focus on is that kiss, which seems to sum up your whole existence. Everything around me disappears, and it’s all lips and tongues and body heat and Chao fragrances and a happy feeling that seems to expand in waves from my belly and my heart outward, consuming my whole being.

  This moment of sheer bliss ends as abruptly as it has started.

  Because Chao pulls away, lifting his hand to his lips.

  Oh. Okay. Wham! Bam! Thank you, Ma’am! I almost expect the housekeeper to say, “Well—point made”, and strut off now. Because yes, he does strut. I don’t even understand how he can’t see it.

  But no. He just takes a step back, shocked by his own daring, and stares at me as if wondering what I did to him or how we ended up in this situation.

  My legs are made of cotton candy at this point. And I’m so confused that I don’t know what to say.

  Finally, two synapses connect in my brain.

  Zing!

  And I utter the most memorable sentence I’ve ever come up with. The sentence to crown all sentences.

  I say, “Jesus Christ—now, that was a mean kiss!”

  Chao goggles.

  “I don’t mean mean. I mean, I don’t mean ‘mean’ mean.”

  “You don’t mean ‘mean’ mean? Trevor, do you do that on purpose?”

  “I mean, I don’t mean ‘mean’ as in wicked, but ‘mean’ as in ‘skillful.’”

  “Oh. You mean that mean.” By now, he’s grinning.

  “Yeah. That mean.” My leg muscles as well as my brain deign to function at last. I step closer and murmur, “There’s just one flaw…”

  He raises an eyebrow. “Flaw? I just kissed you, Trevor, goddammit! And all you find to say is there’s a flaw?”

  “Yes. Your kiss leaves a taste of too little.”

  And with that, I draw him into another kiss.

  Life lesson #8

  “Kissing is like drinking salted water—you drink, and your thirst increases.” Wrote Jan Harper. And God, he’s damn right.

  What happens next is pretty foreseeable

  What happens next is pretty foreseeable. I mean, take two healthy men in the prime of their youth—what would they do after a couple of kisses that make the time stop and volcanoes erupt and toes curl? Hurry back to a certain summer house, of course. And barely make it to the nearest bed, shedding clothes in the process, before they fall over each other.

  So, yes. We end up in bed. In mine, to be precise.

  But strange. Even though I have some experience in the boys department, I feel shy and almost reluctant to touch Chao’s body when it’s lying before me in all its naked glory. Not only because he’s so fucking gorgeous it hurts. But because he doesn’t have any experience with other guys. I don’t want him to be put off by his first time.

  For the record, as far as he’s concerned, being shy isn’t on the program, however. I’d rather define him as curious, adventurous, and eager. Very eager. He manages to melt down my own timidity in no time. It’s as if something had been building up in him, and now all dams have broken down.

  Of course, I still rein in my own enthusiasm.

  Things remain therefore mostly vanilla. That’s enough to keep us blissfully occupied for quite a while, though.

  I know, I know. You’d like to have savvy details. All of them, most likely.

  But no, sorry. My parents taught me a gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell. S
o, there.

  Yes, I hear you. I did tell about the kisses. That’s bad enough.

  But about the rest, I will not breathe a word. My lips are so sealed, guys.

  I might disclose one thing because you insist. Chao has more to offer than meets the eye, which is already quite something. I saw his… assets in that tight, white swimsuit, remember? Several times? When it was wet and almost see-through?

  Well, suffice it to say that the pool water must have had a shriveling effect.

  Because Chao keeps the promise I discovered, and then some.

  Afterward, we take a shower

  Afterward, we take a shower together. And guys, I can now officially confirm: that walk-in shower is the right size. I still don’t know about orgies. But for one-on-one action, it’s perfect.

  Because, er… Yes. We do it again. Chao can’t keep his hands off me. Which, wow. That’s a thing I never thought I’d say one day.

  When we’re finally cleaned up, Chao takes my hand and drags me out to the swimming pool.

  “You must be kidding me!” I mock-protest. “You want us to swim naked? Who are you, and what have you done to Chao?”

  He laughs and pushes me into the water.

  “You bastard!” I shout.

  He dives in, I chase after him, and we spend a moment fooling around like puppies.

  At last, out of breath and giggling, we swim over to the end where the cascade tumbles down to the floor below. Chao stands behind me, his body pressed against mine, his arms wrapped over my chest, his face resting on my shoulder. Both still glowing with contentment, we stare out at the sea.

  “I… I’m still in a daze,” I say. “Did this really just happen?”

  “M-hm,” Chao mumbles in my ear. “It did. At last.”

  “It’s a lot to process.”

  “It is.”

  “Chao… don’t take this wrong, but—what brought this on?”

  I feel him shrug. “I guess it’s a whole jumble of… things. And incidents. I don’t know.”

  “I thought you were incurably straight?”

  Again, he shrugs. “I thought so, too. Maybe not in terms of ‘incurably,’ but the main gist is there.”