Chapter 5 #3
“I’m not saying I’m bisexual, I’m just saying I hadn’t considered dating men before, and I’m wondering if it’s easier?”
“It depends upon how much you like sucking dick,” Samuel says. Is he annoyed?
“Touche. Crude, but effective. Deepthroating doesn’t seem like a good time.”
They pull into a parking space, and Samuel gets out of the car before Bryan has his seatbelt off. Samuel leaves him in the parking lot, quickly going inside and getting a booth.
“I’ll have a scotch and soda. Double,” Samuel says to the waitress. Bryan isn’t even seated yet.
The waitress writes it down. “Beer. Lager. Whatever is on tap,” Bryan says, and sighs with relief at the day being over. “And two burgers with fries. One with cheese,” he says, because that’s what they always order if they get food after a meeting that has gone too long.
Samuel nods in agreement, and the waitress leaves.
Bryan rubs his hands over his face for a long moment and then looks up to find Samuel glaring at him.
“What’s wrong?” Bryan asks.
“Why might you consider dating men?”
“I don’t know, I guess the idea of men in lingerie hadn’t occurred to me before.
But the idea is sexy. Arousing.” He clears his throat.
It’d be nice if the waitress brought them water.
“Plus, I tried to do some preparation for our meeting today, and Googled a few things, and….” He shrugs.
“I guess it just isn’t something I’ve considered. But I’m thinking I should have.”
“Sexuality isn’t like food, or running, or something. You don’t just decide — at 37— to possibly be into men.”
“Actually, it is quite common for men and women from my generation to come out later in life.”
“I can’t believe this,” Samuel mutters, crossing his arms.
Well, he might as well be completely honest. “My first kiss was with a boy, actually. We were nine. My parents caught us. They were furious. It’s the only time my father used a belt on me. Then I dated Kathy from the age of 13 until we got divorced.”
Samuel’s expression is pinched. “Your first kiss was with a boy?”
Byran shrugs, embarrassed. “We were so young. It just… happened.”
“You know, if you didn’t like men, then kissing one would be gross. And it probably wouldn’t ‘just happen.’” Samuel uses air quotes.
“You’re probably right,” he says. That hadn’t occurred to him. Surely, if he were straight, then he’d have been repulsed by the idea and not been willing to try kissing a boy. “I think I was the one who suggested it.”
“This is ridiculous,” Samuel mutters.
Bryan raises a brow.
Samuel waves his hand dismissively. “I’m not trying to force you back into the closet or deny your reality or whatever,” he rolls his eyes, “But it just seems a little out of nowhere.”
“You’re right. And it’s not why we’re here. I don’t want to hijack the conversation. It’s just something I’ll think about. Dating again seemed pointless. Why would I want to go back into that horror show? But maybe I could date men? Don’t tell Wendy. I don’t want to get her hopes up.”
The waitress appears with their drinks. Samuel takes his out of the waitress's hand. “I’ll have another,” he says.
“That kind of day, huh? What about you?” She asks, turning to Bryan.
“I’m an adult, I have to pace myself,” he says, smiling widely.
“Are you calling me a child?” Samuel says. He’s pouting. The boy’s plump bottom lip is actually pushed out like it’s waiting to be touched or kissed.
Bryan’s dick throbs in his pants. Which makes him think about putting the head of his cock there, against the young man’s lips, urging him to—
No. This is ridiculous. He’s been possibly bisexual for two minutes, and he’s already imagining having his dick sucked.
By his young, gay assistant.
This is very, very bad.
“So, you are calling me a child?”
“What? No, sorry. I was thinking of something else. Work.” He forces himself to be in the moment, to pay attention to what is actually going on.
“That is not convincing.”
Their food arrives, and they both start eating. Is Samuel as relieved as he is to have a break in the conversation?
They finish eating, and Samuel says, “You’re disgusted about me wanting to be a little, aren’t you?”
He shakes his head. “Samuel, I don’t even know what it means beyond an internet search. But I promise you I’m not disgusted.”
Samuel’s face is pink with shame. “I don’t want to be an actual child. I just want to be taken care of. I want to be helpless, and… exploited. But with lots of sex. And I want a Daddy. But it isn’t… literal.”
“Sure. It’s time for Sammy to have his pacifier, I get it,” he says. “Except pacifier is dick. Cock.” He feels himself frown at how awkward saying the word aloud is. Presumably, he’d get used to it.
Samuel stares at him in what looks like stunned horror. “That… you can’t say that,” he says, and then he finishes the rest of his drink. So quickly it spills out the corner of his mouth and drips onto the table. He slams the glass back down and wipes his hand across his mouth.
“Relax. We’re fine. Everything is alright.” He takes a napkin from the dispenser and holds it out to the boy.
Samuel takes it carefully, between two fingers, like it’s a bomb.
He presses it to his mouth, eyes wide and fixed on Bryan.
It’s more amusing than it should be to see his usually calm and unflappable assistant discombobulated for once.
Which has to be the reason he says what comes out of his mouth next.
“Good boy.” Byran points at the drip on the table. “Clean that up. We don’t want to leave a mess.” It’s a joke. Isn’t it?
Samuel wipes it up. His cheeks are pink, and his lips are pressed together in a hard line, as if he’s ready to snap.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” he says, and leaps out of the booth.
He almost bumps into the waitress who is dropping off his second drink.
Samuel leans back so far that he has to catch himself by putting one hand on the table.
It makes a bow of his body. For just a moment, the outline of his hard cock is visible in his pants.
Then he steps to the side, stands up straight again, and his arousal is hidden. “Sorry, so sorry!” he babbles, and hurries to the bathroom.
Bryan nods at the waitress as she puts down Samuel’s drink. “I think that’s enough for him. We have work tomorrow,” he says.
“You got it, hon.”
“And I think we’ll take the bill,” he says, and hands her his credit card.
She walks away.
This might be a problem.