How to Bed a Millionaire

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How to Bed a Millionaire Page 17

by Dieter Moitzi


  “What made you become interested in guys all of a sudden?”

  “I didn’t become interested in guys, Trevor. I became interested in you.” He hugs me harder.

  That, guys, deserves a kiss.

  I turn around and press my lips on his.

  He responds at once, and we share another tender moment.

  When I come back up for air, I lean my head on his shoulder. “What I don’t understand… I’ve been a pain in the ass. Ruffling your feathers all the time, annoying you. I thought you couldn’t stand me.”

  He thinks this over. “You ruffled my feathers, all right. But for me it’s never been a question of not standing you.” He kisses my earlobe. “I had quite a lot on my plate, you know. My last relationship in shatters, my business going down the tube… I was in a very dark mood. And then, you arrived. And you… I don’t know, distracted me. Took my thoughts off my problems. Made me see life wasn’t all black. That things could be… easy. You managed to fill my days with light and laughter…”

  “Yeah, I guess I’m amazing like that.”

  He presses me against him. “You certainly are.”

  I run my finger down his chest. “And what… what made you act? Today, I mean.”

  “I think I panicked. The last few days, I started to have those… feelings each time you were around. That fuzzy and fizzy thing in my belly. I didn’t understand what was going on, so I’m not sure I can explain…”

  He doesn’t need to. I get it because right now, I’m feeling all fuzzy and fizzy, too.

  “Then I saw you flirt with that guy in the supermarket. And I overreacted. Like a jealous lover. That’s when it clicked. I suddenly knew I… wanted to be with you. Wanted you. I planned to talk to you yesterday. But then I saw you with that… wanker, in town. And I was sure it would be too late.”

  “He isn’t a wanker. He’s a very nice guy.”

  “Can we not talk about him, please?”

  “All right.”

  We kiss again…

  Sometime later

  Sometime later. We’ve pushed two deck chairs together and are lying on them, naked and entangled. I hardly know where my limbs end and his start. A sheen of sweat covers our bodies. A bottle of rosé and two glasses stand on the floor.

  “Was this your first time with a guy?” I idly enquire.

  “Why do you ask?” Chao leans over and picks up his glass.

  I let my hand glide over his taut six-pack. “I was just wondering… You seemed to know your way around my body quite well. Not what I’d expect a hitherto straight guy to know.”

  He takes a sip and offers me the glass. “Straight, gay… I’m not sure I see things as clear-cut as that. Not anymore.”

  “Look who’s sidetracking now. Methinks we were talking about your… amazing prowess. Because I am amazed, sunshine.” I take a sip, too.

  He caresses my arm. Then he surprises me by saying, “Do you have any idea of how long I’ve been fantasizing about your body, Trevor?”

  “Er, no.”

  “You’ve been quite a tease since day one.”

  “Have I?”

  “M-hm. And I really, really wanted to know how it felt to touch you.”

  “So, you mean my body inspired you or something?”

  “Not really. I might have been doing some research, too.”

  I turn around to face him. “Research?” I put the glass down and stare into his eyes. “What kind of research could you possibly have…”

  He blushes.

  “You’ve been watching porn!” I cry out.

  Chao looks sheepish. “Yeah. Ever since I read these two books you recommended, I was curious. Wanted to find out what this male-on-male love was all about. Wanted to see if any naked body could trigger the reactions yours started to trigger. So, I went to one of those sites everybody knows…”

  “Speak for yourself—I don’t know any porn sites, you pig!”

  He chuckles and ruffles my hair. “Why is it I have a hard time believing you right now?”

  “And you liked what you saw,” I murmur into his ear.

  “I don’t know. Everything looked so… technical. Mechanical. Remote. I preferred what you were willing to offer. Visually, I mean. On an almost daily basis if I may say so…”

  “But you got aroused?”

  “A bit,” he says in a detached voice.

  “And did you play with yourself, you naughty boy?” I lick over his nipples, on which I could feast for days.

  He blushes again and starts to breathe faster. “Why are you so curious about it?” he pants.

  “Because you must be the first straight guy I officially converted to gay pleasures.” I kiss his navel.

  “Converted to Trevor pleasures is more like it.”

  I can’t reply because I’m now, er, quite busy again.

  The rest of the afternoon feels like a languorous and sensual interlude

  The rest of the afternoon feels like a languorous and sensual interlude I would have loved to never end. But at some point, we realize we’re both ravenous.

  The sun is already very low in the sky, the air has that crystalline and golden quality you only get during cloudless summer evenings. Reluctantly, we don shorts.

  I cook some rice and vegetables, and we move upstairs to the terrace, where we grill the four breams.

  Ella Fitzgerald croons at us through a delicious dinner with a selection of old Cole Porter tunes. I think the most precious moment is when Chao joins her and softly sings along while staring straight at me.

  “You do something to me…”

  His mellifluous voice together with the lyrics—fizzy-fuzziness, guys. Fizzy-fuzziness big time.

  After dinner, we stay on the bench, side by side.

  Chao drapes his arm over my shoulder. “You know what amazes me most about you, Trevor?” he asks.

  I snuggle closer. “I couldn’t say. There are just too many amazing aspects…”

  He chuckles. “Well, it sure isn’t your modesty. No, seriously. I love how… natural and easy you are. About everything. You take everything in stride. Me. My moods. Your job. Your life. Your being gay.”

  “You make it sound like an accomplishment. Being gay isn’t tough. It’s other people who make it tough for us.”

  “I guess that’s true. So… I take it, your parents never gave you a hard time about it.”

  “Oh, no. They care about important things, you know. Whether I fall in love with a good person or an asshole, for example. Not whether it’s a guy or a girl.”

  He kisses me on the forehead. “You’re so lucky.”

  “Yep, I know.”

  “When did you tell them you’re gay?”

  “I think I was thirteen. One day, Dad wanted to talk to me about, you know, the whole bees-and-flowers business. I’m sure Mom put him up to it. He sat me down in the kitchen, and it was one of those awkward moments where you simply wish to die. Mom had disappeared, but I was sure she was standing behind the kitchen door and listening in on our conversation. Which, by the way, was exactly what she did.”

  “Bees and flowers, hm?”

  “That was the core idea. But actually, Dad didn’t even mention them. He talked about relationships and how a man and a woman would want to express their love at one point by ‘lying together.’”

  “That’s a nice, old-fashioned euphemism.”

  “Well, the whole explanation soon turned… technical and anatomical. If I’m not mistaken, Dad used the words ‘penis’ and ‘vagina.’ A lot.”

  “Dear me.”

  “Dear me indeed. I was pretty embarrassed. When he had finished, he asked me if I had questions. And I said, ‘What if a man wants to lie with another man?’”

  “Out of the blue? He must’ve been surprised!”

 
“Not at all. He told me very calmly all those things you must have seen in the porn movies you watched. You know, techniques and positions and stuff. Made me wish I hadn’t asked. Totally TMI.”

  “Boy, he’s a tough nut.”

  “Oh, both my parents are. And they’re very open-minded. Anyway, after he was done with his explanations, he asked, ‘Do you think that’s what you’ll wanna do later? Lie with a man?’ And I said yes.”

  “What was his reaction?”

  “Dad just nodded. Said, ‘Okay. Great. You really think that’s your thing, then?’ I said yes again. He said, ‘Well, maybe it’s just a phase. Most boys go through it. I did, for example, when I was your age. But once I discovered boobsies and vaginas, I never looked back…’”

  “He didn’t say that!”

  “I swear to God, he did.”

  “And?”

  “And I replied, ‘But I know it’s not a phase. I don’t want boobsies and vaginas. I want penises. Loads of them.’”

  Chao starts to laugh.

  “And then Mom burst in—I just knew she was listening—and hugged me and said, ‘We love you, Trevor, no matter what. We don’t give a damn if you want vaginas or loads of penises instead. We’re just happy that you found the courage to tell us you’re gay.’ To which I replied somewhat testily, ‘That wasn’t courage. Dad forced me to say it because he wouldn’t stop talking about vaginas.’”

  “And how about school? Did you come out in high school or…?”

  “Yep. Right after my conversation with Dad.”

  “Jeez. You were pretty young!”

  “It wasn’t planned. It just… slipped out.” I turn to face him. “In fact, one day, we were discussing Hamlet in my English class. The teacher asked us what we thought about Hamlet’s relationship with Ophelia. And I said, ‘Well, it’s obvious he doesn’t fancy her.’ The teacher said, ‘Why?’, and I replied, ‘Because he’s already in a throuple with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. That’s why he treats Ophelia like shit—he causes his boyfriends’ deaths, after all, so he takes out his bad conscience on poor Ophy.’”

  Chao presses me against him. “You, Trevor Raven, are priceless.” He kisses me on the lips. “And I think I’m really falling for you.”

  “Oh.”

  He smiles and quotes one of the songs we’ve just listened to. “Well, some Argentines without means do it.”

  “I know. People say in Boston even beans do it.”

  He chuckles.

  “It frightens me,” I whisper. “But I think I’m falling for you, too…”

  Life lesson #9

  Yep, it’s frightening. But, you know, Lithuanians and Letts do it. So, let’s do it. Let’s fall in love.

  When I wake up the next morning

  When I wake up the next morning, gray half light paints the room a gloomy shade of gloomy. A strange, pattering sound comes in through the French window.

  I open an eye and realize… it’s raining.

  Rain! In Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat, on the French Riviera, in July! I didn’t think the millionaires down here allowed that to happen.

  And there’s another thing. A marvelous, extraordinary, fabulous thing. Beside me, there’s the hunkiest Hunky John I ever laid eyes on. He’s not only hunky but also makes me feel quite marvelous, extraordinary, and fabulous myself.

  Yes, Chao spent the night in my bed. He’s softly snoring by my side, gloriously naked and gloriously oblivious that I’m checking him out.

  Jesus Christ, he is so gorgeous! That handsome, sharply defined face with curved eyebrows, long eyelashes, a luscious mouth. That dense, shiny black hair. That firm chin. Those broad shoulders. That lean and athletic body, which looks like something out of a textbook for graphic draughtsmen. Those strong arms. That dark tuft of hairs with that beautifully molded, thick, long…

  Hey! Watch it, guys! Didn’t I tell you I wouldn’t give away details about Chao’s intimate parts?

  I carefully slip out of the bed and walk over to the open French window.

  Yep, it’s raining indeed. Cats and dogs, as they say. I stare at the swimming pool the downpour transforms into a boiling mess and realize I can hardly make out the wing on the other side of the pool.

  “What you doing, Trevor?” Chao mumbles sleepily behind me.

  “Morning, sunshine.” I turn around.

  He smiles lazily, rubbing his eyes. “Mmm… I have to say, the verso was captivating. But the recto is even better…”

  I blush, and his insistent gaze makes me hard at once.

  “Oh! How cool is that? It’s not a recto—it’s an erecto!” Chao says. He points at his own body. “And it woke up its bestie!”

  What can I do but hurry back and allow the two besties a happy reunion?

  After this sexy wake-up activity, we take a shower and have a lazy breakfast. The weather forecast says it’ll be raining all day, so I decide I’ll work on the book catalog.

  Chao strongly disapproves. “Come on, Trevor! It’s Sunday.”

  “I know. But I’m terribly behind schedule.”

  “All right. You know what? You work till noon, and I’ll help you. But this afternoon, we do something together. Does that sound okay?”

  I nod and seal the deal with a kiss.

  Once we’re downstairs in the library, I don’t get much help, though. While I’m typing book details, Chao just sits on a chair and stares at me. Amorously. Which would be adorable and flattering if it weren’t so distracting.

  “Chao—stop looking at me like that!” I protest after a while. “You give me the fizzy-fuzzies!”

  “Is that a bad thing or a good thing?”

  “What do you think?”

  He smiles from ear to ear.

  At 12:00 p.m. sharp, Chao reminds me it’s time to switch off the laptop.

  We return to the kitchen, where I start to prepare a salad,

  Chao leans against the counter and watches me tenderly. “You’re the perfect housewife.”

  “Hey! That’s awfully sexist.”

  “A perfect houseman, then. You cook, you clean, you do the laundry… Where did you learn to be such a damn good cook?”

  “I wouldn’t call preparing a salad being a damn good cook.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Well, Mom believes in sharing household chores. That’s why she taught my sister and me all this stuff. I even know how to sew on a button or mend my clothes.”

  Chao grins lewdly at that. “I noticed how good you were with your needle, all right.”

  “What a cheek! You call my King Dong a needle?”

  “King Dong?” He giggles. “Did you just call your dick ‘King Dong?’”

  “What if I did?”

  One thing leads to another. Clothes are shed, hungry mouths meet, fingers probe and explore, and we end up doing things on the kitchen floor that it has probably never seen before.

  Lunch is slightly delayed.

  “Tell me about your ex”

  “Tell me about your ex,” I say during lunch with a couldn’t-care-less expression on my face.

  Er, yes? I know? You don’t inquire about someone’s exes twenty-four hours after your first kiss. It’s a stupid move, a daft question, a no-brainer. Duh.

  But I’m an impulsive guy. And a nitwit. And this topic is niggling me somehow. Don’t forget I thought Chao to be in the middle of a divorce with that girl until a day ago. I’m allowed to be curious about her.

  Chao gapes at me. “Where did that question come from?” he asks unsurprisingly.

  I shrug with fake indifference. “Just being nosy, I guess.”

  Chao’s answer turns out as expected. “Well, your Nosiness, there’s not much to say. Or rather, not much I’d want to discuss right now. I still don’t get it why you’d bring her up in the first place.”


  “I don’t know. Perhaps I wonder what makes you tick?”

  “What?” He shakes his head. “Jeez, haven’t you noticed that you make me tick?”

  I blush. “I mean in general.”

  “How can you make this a general thing when it’s anything but? It’s always something or someone in particular that make us tick.”

  “So, what in particular drew you to that girl?” I ask. There. You can’t be blunter than that.

  “Jeez, Trevor—she did!” He studies me closely. “I can almost hear the wires and gears in your head. So, the answer is: yes. I was in love with Lisa. That’s her name. Very much in love. We were together for three years, after all. We were even supposed to get married this year.”

  “Three years? And wedding bells? Wow. What… what happened?”

  “I really don’t want to talk about it.” He looks away. “But I got a nagging feeling you won’t let go. So… er, she cheated on me. I found her in bed with my best friend. That’s why I left her. End of story, and good riddance. Satisfied now?”

  I feel sheepish. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked…”

  “You shouldn’t have. But it’s okay. I’m over the whole mess now.” He looks me in the eyes, trying to figure out what’s going on in my head. Good luck with that.

  Finally, he asks softly, “Is it that gay-straight thing that makes you feel so insecure?”

  Fuck. He reads me like an open book.

  “No!” I lie.

  He raises his eyebrows.

  “Yeah. Maybe it does,” I admit, staring at my feet.

  “But why?” He seems genuinely puzzled.

  “I don’t know. It’s probably because I’ve never been with a girl. So, I can’t compare.”

  Chao puts his hands on both sides of my face and forces me to look him at him. “Trevor—you can’t compare. And I don’t. Okay?”

  “But you’ve never been with a guy before… What if that’s not what you want?”

  He sighs, then strokes my cheeks. “Listen. I understand what you’re getting at. But these questions you seem to ask yourself—I don’t ask them myself. Okay? I don’t see a guy in you…”

 

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