The knocking finally impinged on Ennis's awareness. "Who is it?"

"Jack Twist, your Muse for a Day."

Ennis saved the file he was working on and rose from his chair. Jack stood in the hallway, hands thrust deep into the kangaroo pocket of a black hoodie, his smile coming on like the light in the refrigerator when the door opened.

"Hey," Jack said. "You told me to stop by sometime and here I am." He had waited an entire day.

Ennis didn't mention that it was past two a.m. on a Sunday night. He stood aside so Jack could come in and followed his visitor into the kitchen area. "Can I help you?" he asked pointedly, as Jack rummaged among the items on the counter.

"You got anything to drink?"

"I got coffee and water. We drank all the whiskey last night."

"Coffee sounds good. It's fuckin' freezin' in here."

"Yeah. I complained to the manager. He said he'll get right on it."

"That asshole Aguirre? That lazy SOB wouldn't know honest work if it banged him all night long and left twenty dollars on the dresser. He's the entire custodial staff of the club, too. You been in the men's room down there? I'd rather take a leak in the alley."

"He's an asshole, that's for sure."

"No shit. I heard he evicted an old lady last winter. They found her the next mornin' layin' on top of a grate. She was a seniorcicle."

Ennis didn't remark on this piece of local urban legend. "So you've been at the club tonight?"

"Yeah. Jimbo wanted to come. He likes the place for some reason."

"You don't?" Ennis asked, handing Jack a cup of black coffee.

"It's a meat rack," Jack shrugged. "Got cream and sugar?"

"I got milk."

"Can I help myself?" Jack already had his hand on the refrigerator door. "Jee-zus, del Mar, you got a do somethin' 'bout your food situation. This is pitiful."

"You my mama or somethin'?"

Jack raised an eyebrow as he poured milk into his coffee. "My mind is spinning with the possibilities in that question."

"Does everything somehow relate to sex for you?"

"Well… yeah. Why wouldn't it? I'm a normal, healthy male a the species. I'm supposed to think about sex all the time."

"You're jokin' with me now."

"Maybe just a little. You always got this serious look on your face, not quite a frown, but damn near. What're you concentratin' on so hard?"

"Keepin' body and soul together," Ennis answered, wondering why he'd dredged up that old saying of his mother's.

Jack let his gaze play from Ennis's face to his feet, taking his time navigating the tall, lanky frame. "Everything looks like it's hangin' together just fine to me."

"I know you're just talkin' shit," Ennis answered. "But you can give it a rest around me. I ain't flattered, and I ain't interested."

Jack snorted. "Thought you wanted me to talk colorful to you and ain't your feet cold?" The sudden swerve in the conversation caught Ennis like a squirrel on the road, and he froze in indecision, unsure which way to go. Jack took a drink of his coffee, made a face and spoke again. "I didn't mean to ask such a hard question. I was just surprised you're barefoot, considerin' the temperature."

"I'm all right."

"Are you kiddin' me? It's got a be around forty degrees in here."

"I don't mind."

"You'll mind when you lose a toe to frostbite," Jack predicted.

"It ain't that cold, and you could teach a class in how to nag a man to death."

"Well, fuck me for carin'," Jack said, taking another drink before going on. "Why are you always barefoot anyway? Some religious thing?"

"My boots are wet and I ain't got no socks. Happy now?"

Jack blinked and reeled back in comic reaction to Ennis's mild outburst. "Easy, killer," he said. "I'm just a curious mammal here. Why don't you have any socks?"

"They were dryin' on the stair rail this mornin' and somebody took 'em. Soon as I get paid, I'll buy another pair."

"Hell, I got lots a socks. I'll bring you some."

"I ain't big on charity."

"You're kiddin'," Jack said dryly. "It's just a pair a socks, del Mar. Here, take the ones I got on. My hightops will be warm enough without 'em." Jack toed off his bright orange sneakers and stripped off his socks. He held them out to Ennis, his toes curling under as the cold of the floor struck through his soles.

Ennis looked at the lime green socks for a long moment before taking them. "I guess nobody's gonna see 'em," he said as he sat to put them on. They were soft and still warm from Jack's feet and Ennis felt the surge of erotic tension that he knew would mount until Jack Twist's visit was over, and Ennis could whack off behind the locked door. It was Jack he fantasized about while he beat meat, and those fantasies, transcribed to print, had produced very excited emails from Ennis's editor and the promise of cash on delivery. "So what kind of story have you got for me today?"

"I was hitchin' a ride one time and these two guys picked me up. They were in this ultimate sports car, like a Ferrari, or somethin'. Anyway, it only had two seats and the blond guy on the passenger side, who was really good-lookin' by the way, kind a like Brad Pitt in Legends a the Fall, you know?"

Ennis nodded; though he'd never seen the movie Jack mentioned, he knew what Brad Pitt looked like. The actor was not Ennis's type at all and he mentally altered the pretty boy features into something sharper and darker. "What did he say?" he asked.

"Say?"

"The Brad Pitt guy?" Ennis settled in at the keyboard, stacking one foot atop the other.

"Oh yeah. He had long, blond hair, shoulder-length, and a real dark tan like a surfer. When I pointed out that there were only two seats, he told me I could sit on his lap. I looked down and saw the most enormous boner sticking out of his shorts."

"When was this?"

"Huh? What difference does it make?"

"Well, if it was winter, I don't think he'd be wearing shorts."

"Then I guess it must have been summer. Yeah, it was summer, 'cause I was wearin' shorts too, my black Spandex biking shorts. So this guy tells me I have great legs and I tell him I ride my bike a lot."

"Are you in the car now?"

"Uh… no, not yet. I'm kind a leanin' on the door 'cause the top's down."

"It was a convertible?"

"That's right. A red convertible. And both guys were hot. The driver was pretty big, like a body-builder, you know? He looked like he could snap your dick off if he flexed his butt cheeks. You remember that wrestler that used to say smell what I'm cookin'? The Rock? This other guy looked like that. His head was shaved, but had hair tattooed on it. How weird is that?"

"Purty weird," Ennis acknowledged, fingers hitting the keys rapidly. "Then what? He have an enormous boner, too?"

Jack stuck out his tongue before he continued. "I hopped into the car. Felt kind a strange about sittin' on Blondie's lap, but Mr. Clean tells me my other option is the gearshift. That's when I notice that the gearshift knob is a butt plug, a vibrating butt plug with a remote control. These two weren't just out for a drive; they were trawling for a playmate."

"Guess they got lucky, huh?"

Jack preened a little, running his hands through his hair 'til it stood up in spikes, fluttering his lashes and blowing a kiss at Ennis. "You're prob'ly bein' sarcastic, but I'll take that as a compliment since you're so sparing with 'em."

Ennis shook his head at this foolishness. "Could you just tell the story?"

"Right after you admit I'm a handsome devil."

Ennis sighed. "You're a handsome devil," he repeated without inflection.

"You don't sound like you mean it. Blondie and Mr. Clean couldn't tell me enough times how good lookin' and sexy I was. It got downright embarrassing after a while."

"I just don't see how you could enjoy a compliment that you forced out of me. Wouldn't it be better if it was… spontaneous?"

"Well sure," Jack said, meeting Ennis's eyes. "I'm waitin'."

"Seems to me you could use the practice. Patience ain't exactly your long suit."

"I ain't got time to be patient. I got a keep movin', keep makin' connections. Some day I'm gonna hook up, and I'll be out a this nabe like an ICBM, straight up and into orbit. One day you'll look up and think there's a new star in the sky and that'll be me."

"I don't doubt it. I got plans too."

"I know that. I know you didn't set out to become a writer a third-rate porn."

"Third-rate?" Ennis objected, though he agreed with the assessment.

"You're gettin' better," Jack blithely assured him. "Write this down. I got into the convertible and Blondie pulled me down onto his lap. He had really big hands that felt good grabbing my hips, and his big, hard cock felt fantastic against my ass. I was thinking that I'd really like to hit the dance floor with him when Mr. Clean turned up the volume on the mix that was playin' and asked me if I wanted to go for a long drive, or a short one. That's when I noticed he wasn't wearing any pants at all and that he had the thickest cock I'd ever seen. Did I mention he had deep, dark bedroom eyes? They were so intense, almost hypnotized me, you know? I realized I was leaning toward him and pulled back a little. He smiled at me like somebody about to tell a really juicy secret and got his eyes back on the road. Blondie was running his hands down my sides and thighs, not going for my dick or anything, just feeling me, you know? I was really getting off on the idea of being a love object for these two studs. I've never been anybody's playtoy, but right then, the thought a surrendering myself completely made me hard as cement. What's so funny?"

"Cement ain't hard; concrete's hard."

"You do an endo on your bike and hit a cement sidewalk and you'll think it's plenty hard."

"Never mind. Just keep talkin'."

"You know, it occurs to me that you ain't very nice to me."

"I don't recall that bein' part a our agreement."

"Yeah, well, this part-time Muse gig ain't all it's cracked up to be. You're gettin' the priceless benefit a my experience, and I ain't got nothin' out a the deal so far. You'd think I'd at least a got a kiss from you by now. That wouldn't cost you anything."

"You're wrong about that, but I ain't got time to explain it to you, boy. Your friend Jimbo'll be sniffin' 'round before long, and you ain't finished the story yet."

"Are the stories really the only reason you want me here?"

"Ain't that what I said?"

Jack frowned. "Everybody loves me. What's the matter with you?"

"I'm just tryin' to make a livin'."

"And this is livin'?" Jack asked. "You really got a get out more," he added, and let it drop. Ennis del Mar was proving a tough nut to crack, but Jack had expected that. It was a novel experience being turned down, and he wasn't tired of it yet. He was beginning to wonder if his case of blue-balls was going to be permanent, but if he did get into del Mar's pants, he had a feeling it would be like flying a spaceship into the heart of the sun. He'd go down in flames, but it would be a blaze of glory. For now, he'd bide his time, because when it came to something he wanted badly, Jack knew how to be patient. "On with our exciting tale. A tale about tail," he chuckled. "That's what you ought a call your book. Never Ending Tail. You can have that one for free."

"Uh, thanks."

"You're welcome. We drove out into the country and pulled off on a deserted road. Blondie had me in a state by then with all the touchin' he was doin'. I was dying for him to touch my dick and when he started peeling the waistband of my shorts down, I let out a little moan. Mr. Clean kind a turned in his seat and started strokin' himself while he watched us. Blondie told me he wanted to fuck me until I begged him to stop, but first he wanted to suck me off. I didn't see anything wrong with his plan, but I thought we were going to need more room. He told me to raise up and I grabbed hold of the windshield and pulled myself off his lap. Blondie yanked my shorts all the way off and maneuvered me to the left. Mr. Clean put his hands under my ass to help support me and they positioned me over the gearshift."

"Holy shit."

"Somethin' like that went through my mind, too," Jack grinned. "I asked 'em if they were serious and Mr. Clean told me not to worry; they'd done this lots of times. Blondie poured about half a bottle a lube on the knob and guided my ass down. They didn't try to force me, or anything; I lowered myself onto it. I'd never tried a butt plug before, but I thought I knew somethin' about 'em. Boy, was I wrong."

"Good?"

"Oh hell, yeah. It was rubber, not too hard, not too soft, and it hit just the right spot, if you know what I mean. Even with all the lube, it was a tight fit, but once it was in, it was Katy bar the door. I couldn't get enough. Mr. Clean knelt on his seat, put an arm around my waist and started kissin' and bitin' on my neck and shoulders while he rubbed that fat cock against my left butt cheek. Blondie bent over and started lickin' and suckin' at the head a my dick. Both of 'em kept pettin' me from the top a my head as far down as they could reach. And the whole time the sun was shinin' hot on my skin and I could hear the sound of traffic on the highway like surf in the distance. It was kind a like a dream."

"Or a fantasy."

"You callin' me a liar again?"

Ennis shifted in his chair, wishing he had a pair of looser pants. "Did I say that? Look, it don't matter to me if it's real or not, okay?"

Jack didn't look too sure that it was okay with him, but he went on with the story. "Blondie was performing like a trained seal. He had a tongue like an electric eel and no gag reflex. I was hangin' on to that windshield for dear life, fuckin' that sweet mouth, thinkin' that it didn't get much better than that when Mr. Clean hit the butt plug's 'on' switch. That thing started vibratin' in my ass and I made a noise, kind a like this," Jack somehow managed to gargle, cough and groan all at the same time. Ennis didn't look up, but Jack saw the other boy's shoulders go tense and smiled at the side of Ennis's head. "I doubt I can describe what it felt like… but I'll try. It was kind a like sittin' on a out of balance washin' machine with a Dustbuster attached to your dick while bein' groped by a football team."

"That right? The whole team? Did they all have giant peckers?"

"Fuck you, Del Mar," Jack jumped out of his chair. "I want you in the worst way, and I don't even think I like you, 'cause you won't let me like you. Why do you keep fuckin' with me like this anyway?"

"Why do you say fuck so much?"

"It's my favorite thing. You got a problem with that?"

Ennis looked up then and his face changed when he saw that Jack wasn't teasing, or being sarcastic. "Not a problem, no, but do I wonder if you got any respect for yourself."

Jack's eyes widened, but when he spoke, it was calmly. "You worried about my self-respect, country boy? Or are you some kind a psychology major conductin' some experiment for your thesis by comin' to live among the common man and takin' notes on our matin' habits?"

"Naw, I ain't no doctor, but it just feels right."

"It "feels" right?"

"Yeah, I know; it's hippie talk, but I don't know how else to say it. You want a know if your stories are the only reason I invited you back? Well, they're not. For whatever reason, I like you, Jack Twist. You're loud and cocky and crazy, and I ought a run as fast as I can in the other direction, but… I don't want to. I want a see you again and listen to you tell your dirty stories… and I like wranglin' with you. It don't mean nothin' though."

Jack sat back down suddenly, his butt hitting the seat with an audible thump. "Whoa. Comin' from you, that's War and Peace. You've convinced me. I'll stay."

"Don't expect me to do some kind a dance about it."

"I don't. In fact, that would scare me. Now, where were we?"

"You were sittin' on a butt plug gearshift knob getting' your dick sucked and givin' hand jobs to two guys."

"Handjobs? I don't remember talkin' about handjobs."

The scattering of freckles across Ennis's nose and cheekbones faded into red. "Maybe I added that detail myself," he mumbled.

"I like it," Jack said. "So there I was squattin' on that gearshift knob with those good vibrations goin' right through my ass and into my dick that was bein' eaten like the world's best flavor ice cream. Blondie and Mr. Clean were hangin on to their cocks, but they let go when I grabbed at 'em. I got a good grip on those man handles, and braced my feet. Blondie and Mr. Clean each put a foot on the floor, wrappin' their legs around mine, giving me support and something to push against. I started strokin', pumpin' my hips forward on the backslide, and sittin' back on the upstroke. Pretty soon I had a rhythm goin'. I was chuggin' like a locomotive, buckin' my pelvis like the King undergoin' shock therapy. Mr. Clean kept clickin' the remote on and off, and I never knew when it was gonna happen. I was pantin' like a bitch in heat and beggin' for it; Blondie and Mr. Clean were pressed against me, all sweaty and slippery, fuckin' my fists, their hands everywhere, in my mouth, tweakin' my nips, ticklin' my pits, squeezin' my balls, tryin' to work their way in with the plug… You okay?"

"Yeah, I breathed in and swallowed at the same time," Ennis said in a strangled voice.

Jack leaned over and slapped him on the back several times. "That better?"

"Sure, now stop hittin' me."

"You know, some people live in glass houses, but you… you're a glass man."

"What?"

"You're a writer. You know what a metaphor is."

"Anybody that paid attention in English class knows what a metaphor is. What I don't know is why you feel like you can make judgments 'bout me."

"Cause it gets you riled up, and I'm beginnin' to think this is foreplay for you."

"Look here; you might just as well quit with that. I just want a be your friend."

"Ain't nothin' unfriendly about foreplay, but I hear you. Haven't I been keepin' my hands to myself?" Jack paused. "Well, except for just now when I patted you on the back."

"Walloped me is more like it."

"Make up your mind. You the strong silent type, or a big ol' crybaby?"

Ennis narrowed his eyes in a belligerent squint, but eased up when it struck him how easily Jack was playing him. "You're a sly one, Jack Twist," he said. "I'm gonna have to keep my eye on you."

Jack laced his fingers behind his neck and arched his back. Since his ass was perched on the edge of the chair, his pelvis was thrust forward dramatically, the track pants draping softly over the evidence of his maleness. "If you see anything you like, just let me know," he drawled.

"You know you look good. You don't need me tellin' you."

"Are you sure you're queer, del Mar?"

"Why? Because I ain't jumped your bones? You ever think that maybe you're not my type?"

"I'm everybody's type if I want to be."

"Do you ever git tired a bein' so cool?"

"You know how a shark has to keep movin' or it dies?"

"Well, when you're here, you don't have to run full throttle, okay?"

"I'll give it a try," Jack said, looking down into his empty coffee cup. When he spoke again, his voice was barely audible. "Truth is, sometimes I'm afraid that if I stop bein' so colorful, I'll just fade away and disappear."

Ennis finished typing Jack's words into the file. "No danger a that," he said, his gruff tone compensating for the sympathy implicit in his words.

"Fuckin' A," Jack said, regaining his equilibrium as quickly as he'd lost it. They'd had a real moment there, unvarnished, stripped down to the bare wood, and neither had flinched. It had been acknowledged, one human to another, everybody hurts, you're not alone, and now, having taken a peek beneath each other's scratched veneers, they were moving on without any need for polish. "Why don't I finish my story?"

"I'd like that," Ennis said, facing the monitor again. "You're a good storyteller."

Jack rolled his eyes at the warm glow that started south of his navel and traveled up to settle around his heart. He was going all mushy just because Ennis del Mar had said something nice to him? What was this shit anyway? He was Jack Twist; he didn't need the approval of this clueless bumpkin. Jack sighed. Maybe he didn't need Ennis del Mar's approval, but he damn sure wanted it. And he was going to get it. "If I recall correctly, I was just about to experience the Big Bang."

"Yep."

"Just as I was about to come, Mr. Clean wraps his arms around me and pulls me off the gearshift. Blondie grabs my legs and they heave me over the windshield onto the hood. I'm layin' there in a daze, pre-cum everywhere, starin' up at the tree we're parked under while they get out a the car. Mr. Clean hops up on the hood and pulls me against his chest with my legs dangling over the fender. Blondie moves between my thighs and lifts one of my calves to his shoulder. I'm all greased up and stretched by the butt plug, and dyin' to get off. Blondie decides to tease me a little by running the head of his cock up and down my crack a few times, pokin' at me. I tell him to quit fuckin' around and fuck me, which Mr. Clean seems to find incredibly amusing. I can feel his dick against my back like a can of Red Bull and I try and reach around for it. Mr. Clean says that if I want it, I can have it, and grabs me around the waist, lifts me up, and sets me down on it. I aint never had anything that big around up my butt and I said so, told him it didn't feel all that good. He pulled back out and wrapped his hands around my thighs, spreadin' 'em wide as Blondie pressed the tip of his dick against my hole. I was so stretched he slid in like butter. There was no big pressure, just that full feelin' that's soooo niiice," Jack purred, taking his time adjusting himself since Ennis was absorbed in trying to get down every word. "Blondie leaned forward until he could rest his palms on the hood on either side of Mr. Clean. He must a had nine inches, no lie, and I took most of it in one go. Blondie hung there a couple a seconds, lettin' me feel 'im, before he pulled on back. Mr. Clean stuck his head over my shoulder and him and Blondie went into an epic lip-lock while Blondie kind a rocked his hips, movin' his dick around just inside me 'til he hit the magic spot. I let 'im know when he was there too. Mr. Clean took hold a my cock and I swear I came as soon as he touched it, a gusher. I had jizz in my fuckin' eyebrows. Blondie asks me if it feels good and I start to think that maybe he ain't too bright, when Mr. Clean picks me up again and just holds me there with his hard dick pressed against the underside a Blondie's. I'm limp as linguine, but Mr. Clean starts doin' that hand jive and Blondie's poundin' into me like he's workin' on the railroad, and damned if I don't start getting' hard again. Mr. Clean asks me if I've ever done double duty and I don't ask him what he means. I just shake my head and when he asks me if I want to try it, I tell him to do what he wants. Blondie is suckin' at my nipples like they're beer taps, his hips rockin', in and out, in and out, pullin' almost all the way out before he slams back in 'til his balls slap his partner's. I feel the head of Mr. Clean's dick nudging my asshole and suddenly I ain't sure I want a go through with it."

"Jack!" the sound of Jimbo's voice was accompanied by a loud knock at Ennis's door.

"Shit," Ennis said succinctly.

"Sorry," Jack shrugged. "It was about that time that the cops showed up anyway."

"Cops?"

"Well, it was just one, but he was enough."

"Jack, open the God-damned door," Jimbo called.

"You want a git that?" Ennis asked Jack.

"Not really. I'm givin' 'im a second chance and he's burnin' it up fast."

Jimbo knocked harder. "What the hell's goin' on in there?"

Jack grabbed a book off the shelf as he opened the door. "Christ in a sidecar," he said. "You got a take a piss or somethin'?"

Jimbo stepped in and looked around. "Am I supposed to believe you're havin' a book club meetin' in here?"

"We're just talkin', Jimbo," Jack said. "Not that either of us owes you an explanation. We ain't even officially together at the moment."

"You been gone for hours. It makes me look bad when my boy slips off. Like maybe I ain't man enough to hold on to you. You're makin' me lose respect, yo?"

"And we've run out of time, folks," Jack said. "Join us next week on "Pimp Wannabe" starrin' Jimbo the Himbo. Sorry, Ennis. I'll see you in a couple a days."

"All right then. I'll most likely get paid somethin' on Wednesday."

Jimbo scowled at Jack. "Don't you be apologizin' for me, or callin' me a wannabe."

"It was a joke. Good night, Ennis."

"Yeah, goodbye, Ennis," Jimbo said, holding the door open for Jack to walk through.

Ennis sat in silent stillness for about three seconds after the door closed. And then his zipper was down, his arousal rising up eagerly. Yanking off one of the socks Jack had given him, Ennis pulled it on like a mitten and took his cock in hand. "Awww, Jesus Christ, Jack," he breathed as his release broke within him like ice in the spring thaw. This was getting out of hand fast.

Read Chapter Three of Bailey's I Am a Rock