These Curious Pleasures Part 11

"Oh, he can't hear me. He's pa.s.sed out in the bedroom.a "I thought you'd been drinking." Sylvan never sounded that swishy unless he was soused.

"I'm still coherent and that's all that matters. Now tell me more. When are you and Allison going to get a place together?"

I told him about the California deal. I said that I had urged Allison to take the job.

"Happy martyr's day! Do you know what you're doing in sending her out to Hollywood where the deer and degenerates play? You better a.s.sert squatter's rights and go with her if you don't want to have her turn into one of those ghastly Hollywood queer-nymphomaniacs," he said.

"I haven't made up my mind yet about going."

"What's the problem?"

"Well, partly that Allison has a tendency to try to manipulate and direct me. I don't want her to think I'll just follow her around like a puppy wherever she goes."

"Not good enough. I don't believe that's the real reason for your not going."

"There are a few other things that I'd rather not go into," I said.

"I've got it," Sylvan said. "You're afraid that if Allison finds out that she has too much power over you she'll drop you like Marilyn did. That's it, isn't it?"

"Go get another drink. You're becoming revoltingly sober."

"I'm right, I'm right!" he crowed.

"O.K., so you're right. Anyway, let's meet for lunch sometime this week. We'll discuss it then."

"Love to. I'd like to see Allison again too."

"I've got an idea. Why don't you and Mike come here for dinner Wednesday night?"

"Splendid. Just don't serve oysters, please."

"Why? Mike too much for you?"

"Darling, I'm down to a shadow of my former self," Sylvan said delightedly. "I don't think I'd be able to survive if he stayed for more than a week."

Just then I could hear a gruff voice calling Sylvan in the background. "Be with you in a moment," Sylvan called back.

"I'll let you go now," I said. "Mustn't keep your seafood waiting. It might spoil."

"Honey, you don't know the half of it. He's terribly impatient. Does perfectly terrible things to me if I'm late. I love it," he whispered. "Oh, here he comes now. Don't get nasty, love, I was going to go to you in a minute. Well, Sloane, I'll... Mike, Mike, what are you doing? Mike, I'm on the phone. I'm talking to a girl! Mike, at least let me hang up. Oh-h-h, Mike!" Sylvan's voice had changed to a breathless soprano. "Sloane, we'll see you Wednesday at seven."

"Right. Take good care of your sailor now."

"I have no choice. Mike, please! The blinds are up!"

CHAPTER 10.

Wednesday night Sylvan brought his friend to my apartment for dinner. Sylvan was wearing a rust coloured suede smoking jacket with pastel trousers. He had a paisley ascot around his neck. I learned something new about Sylvan. He didn't have to be drunk to become feminine. Apparently the company of another man brought out the swish in him.

Mike was a sailor. With a vengeance he was a sailor. Big and beefy with a voice that sounded like a fog bell. He was handsome in a prehistoric sort of way.

There are only two types who look good in Navy blues and Mike was one of them. Slim, slight men look kind of s.e.xy in the tight pants. Guys like Mike look good because the skinlike outfit shows off every muscle and emphasizes their masculinity.

As a conversationalist he was a good tennis player. Mike laughed a lot. At things that were funny and even at some things that weren't. He had a big deep laugh that made the muscles on his shoulders quiver.

We asked him questions about s.h.i.+pboard life to which he responded in monosyllables. Sylvan supplied the details for us. I don't know when he found out anything about Mike unless the guy became talkative in the most inappropriate moments. He sure as h.e.l.l didn't talk much when he was vertical.

Sylvan danced attendance on Mike as if the sailor were a delicate woman who couldn't do anything for herself. He brought him his drinks, even mixed them and removed the swizzle stick before giving them to Mike. Mike looked a little embarra.s.sed when Sylvan curled up on the floor at his feet and stared up at him with adoring eyes.

I felt sorry for Sylvan. He deserved better than this. Sylvan had a good mind, lots of personality and a lot to offer someone. Mike just wasn't capable of appreciating him.

I've heard the same story from many gay boys. They start out looking for beauty and love and after a while they become so bitter that the only thing they're interested in is s.e.x. It's the loneliest state imaginable. There are thousands of queens all over the world who have given up all hope of companions.h.i.+p. The only thing they're interested in is the physical attractiveness of their lovers.

Mike was agreeable enough though hardly stimulating. We had a few rounds of drinks and then settled down to dinner. Allison had spent the afternoon in my apartment preparing the meal. Luckily, she had prepared enough spaghetti for eight people. Mike ate four platefuls.

After dinner we went back into the living room. I put some records on the phonograph and brought out the bottle of Drambuie I had picked up on the way home.

Mike said he didn't care for any liqueur. He would stick to Scotch. Allison, Sylvan and I split the bottle among us. It's potent stuff. By the time the bottle was empty we were all feeling no pain whatsoever.

Mike was sitting in an armchair with Sylvan curled up at his feet. Sylvan kept caressing Mike's thighs and blowing kisses up at him. Since they were being so uninhibited, Allison and followed suit. We sat on the couch with our arms about each other. It was a nice relaxed evening.

For a while it was. Up until the time Mike finished the Scotch. We all felt like having another drink by then but I had no more booze in the house. I did have a half a case of beer in the refrigerator and we all decided to switch to that. Mike offered to help me get the beer and gla.s.ses.

We went out to the kitchen. The kitchen was located next to the living room. An open archway connected the two rooms. From the living room one could see the stove but the refrigerator and sink were at the opposite end of the room, s.h.i.+elded from view by a folding screen.

Mike got the cans of beer out of the refrigerator while I took the gla.s.ses down from the cupboard. I was opening the cans on the sink drain board when Mike came up behind me and put his arms around me.

"What the h.e.l.l do you think you're doing?" I asked him, trying to make my voice as icy as possible.

"Come on, baby, they can't see us in here. How's about a kiss."

"No. I..." Mike shut me up by pulling me to him and kissing me. His mouth was wet and sloppy. I thought I was going to choke.

I pushed him away. "Look, Mike, let's just bring the beer out to Sylvan and Allison. We'll just forget that this ever happened. Don't worry, I won't tell Sylvan."

"Aah, who cares what that queer thinks?"

"Queer? What do you think that makes you?"

"I ain't no fruit," Mike protested. "Just 'cause I go for a little of it once in a while don't make me no pansy. It ain't for me. I go for women. This here guy Sylvan, he come up to me one night in a bar. I was just in there for a drink. I didn't know it was a queer joint."

"You didn't have to go with him," I said.

"It was late at night. I didn't have no dough. He told me I could stay at his place. So I went with him. Like I told you, I like to have it that way sometimes. But that don't make me no queer. This guy Sylvan, he'd be all right. He's got a nice soft body, like a woman, ya know? But he's always trying to kiss me and all that. I don't go for that."

"I don't want to hear about it! You're not fit for someone like Sylvan to walk on and you have the nerve to talk about him that way!"

"O.k., baby. I didn't want to do no talking anyway." With that he grabbed me again and brought his mouth down toward mine. I twisted my head violently away from him.

"You're forgetting that I'm one of those 'queers' you're contemptuous of!"

"You ain't no queer," Mike said. "Trouble with you is at you've never had a good man. Just relax and I'll show you what you've been missing. I've known lots of d.y.k.es. After they been with me they didn't want no more girls." The same old line. I'd heard that one all my life. I suppose it's true in a few cases but it wasn't in mine. Why do all men think that all a woman needs is a good roll in the hay and she'll be cured of everything from h.o.m.os.e.xuality to scurvy?

Mike tightened his hold on me. He had one ma.s.sive arm around my waist. It was like steel. I couldn't break his grip.

He kissed me hard. He hadn't shaved closely and the bristles burned my face. I tried to pull my mouth away but he was holding me too tightly. I couldn't move an inch.

He was plastered right up against me, his body flush with mine. Mike was at least a head taller than I but I'm long-legged. That made it convenient for him.

He caressed me with his free hand. I guess he thought it was a caress but it felt more like punishment to me.

Against my will I was getting aroused. It wasn't just that he was touching me. Mike was a slob but he was manly in his love-making. Too many men made pa.s.ses at me as if they were afraid that I would submit. I went for girls but that didn't mean that I couldn't respond to a man. The difference was that one thing was emotional and the other a matter of glands.

My body was getting limp. I wanted to get away from him, to escape from his brutal touch and his bruising mouth. But I felt myself beginning to tense and release rhythmically against him.

"What's keeping you two? We've been waiting for those beers. I..." Sylvan's voice broke as he saw us.

Mike looked up in surprise at the interruption and I seized the opportunity to break away from him. I ran to Sylvan.

"Come into the other room with me," I told him. "I want to talk to you. Mike, you stay here."

Allison was in the john so Sylvan and I could talk alone in the living room.

"I'll kill that b.a.s.t.a.r.d," Sylvan said.

"Oh, stop being dramatic, Sylvan. He didn't hurt me. Besides, Mike would brush you off like a gnat if you tried to attack him. You must have known that he was bis.e.xual."

"Yes, most trade is. But I thought he'd restrain himself because you were friends of mine. I know he's just been using me." He stopped and looked away. When he turned toward me again there were tears in his eyes. "I've done everything for him and this is the thanks I get. My G.o.d, what does he want from me?"

"His kind doesn't know the meaning of grat.i.tude," I said.

"You should see him, Sloane. Sometimes he gets me all worked up. Then he says he's tired. He makes me plead. Other times he goes on all night. I can hardly keep my eyes open at work the next day. I thought he must like me. Otherwise, why would he be so pa.s.sionate?"

"You answered that one yourself."

"That isn't all," Sylvan went on. "I've done lots of other things for him too."

By this time Mike had come out of the kitchen and had seated himself in a chair facing us. We ignored him.

"Sylvan, have you given Mike any money?"

"Not much. Just a few dollars. He told me he was broke."

"Are you telling me the truth? Are you sure that's all?"

It was too much for Sylvan. He began to cry openly.

"That's what I thought." I said.

"He said he needed the money to buy clothes. He said he didn't have anything besides his uniform."

"And has he brought these clothes that he supposedly bought back to your apartment?"

Sylvan dumbly moved his head in negation.

I got up and crossed over to Mike. As I walked across the room I noticed that Allison was standing in the doorway observing us. I didn't know how long she had bee there.

"Do you have the money with you?" I asked Mike. "I want you to give him back every cent you haven't spent. If you don't, I'll call the police in on this. I'm not kidding!"

Mike looked up at me with a poor attempt at an expression of candid honesty on his coa.r.s.e features. "I don't have it no more. Look." He pulled a wallet out from the waistband of his trousers and showed me it. "See? I've only got a buck left. I need that to get back to my s.h.i.+p."

"What did you do with the rest of it?"

"I sent it to my mother."

At least it broke the tension. Allison, Sylvan and I collapsed in laughter. Mike stared at us blankly.

When I had recovered myself, I asked Sylvan, "Does he have anything back at your apartment?"

"No. He just had the clothes he's wearing on him when we met. He's been using my shaving things and everything."

"Probably got his kit in a locker somewhere. I'll bet that's where the money is too. How much money did you give him?"

"Twenty bucks," Mike said.

"A little over a hundred dollars," Sylvan said.

"Not enough to risk making a scandal over." I put the rest up to Sylvan. "After what you've seen tonight I don't suppose you'll be wanting this character around any longer. But that's up to you. You have to make the decisions. I can't run your life for you. Just let me say that as your friend I wish that you'd get rid of him as fast as possible."

Sylvan got up off the couch and walked over beside me. We were both standing in front of Mike.

The sailor tensed and seemed to be gathering himself together as if he expected to be in a fist fight shortly.

Sylvan just looked at him as if he were a complete stranger. There was no anger in his face and his voice was gentle as he said, "Mike, I'd appreciate it very much if you'd leave right now. I'm going to stay a while longer. I don't know when I'll get home. When I do, I don't want to find you there. I think it best if we never see each other again."

The sailor looked bewildered. He had expected Sylvan to get violent. He didn't know how to cope with the other man's calmness.

Mike got up slowly as if he were in a state of confusion. He walked to the door and opened it. He walked out to the hall but before closing the door, stuck his head back in and shouted, "G.o.dd.a.m.n bunch of perverts! You queers all ought to be put in jail. You're a menace to society!" Then he slammed the door shut behind him.

"I'll make coffee," Allison said. "I think we could all use a cup." She went out to the kitchen.

"I'm sorry, Sloane. I'm ashamed to have involved you and Allison in this sordid business," Sylvan said.