Hawk in the City (Part 3 of 3 parts)

markwildyr.com, Post #112

I don’t think Hawk’s visit to the big city is going exactly the way he planned. Or perhaps he didn’t plan anything, just waited to see what would happen. Well, Sam the waiter happened. What will this final installment bring?

*****

A HAWK IN THE CITY

Hawk stared out early and mid-morning stopped at a rest stop where a young man walked up to the urinal beside him.

          “Saw you drive in. You’re headed south, aren’t you?”

          “Yeah,” Hawk said, looking over at the man. Mid-twenties, clean-shaven. Obviously spent a lot of time in the gym. His features were pleasant, no more. But his body was super.

          “Can I hook a lift? Busted, so I can’t help with the expenses, but I sure would appreciate it.”

          “Sure. Going that way anyway.”

          The man seemed relieved. “Thanks. I was beginning to worry about getting pinched for hitchhiking. I hear they’re tough about it in this state.”

          “Where you headed?” Hawk asked, walking to the sink to wash his hands.

          “Corpus Christi. On leave from the marines and headed home. Got in a poker game before I left and got cleaned out.” He gave a grin that made him better looking. “I’m not too good at poker. Name’s Hal.”

          Around noon Hawk pulled into a restaurant. Hal said he’d wait in the car. It was obvious the guy was really broke so Hawk didn’t argue. He went inside ordered two sandwiches, some fries, and drinks and hauled them back to the pickup.

          “Man, you didn’t have to do that,” the marine protested.

          “Gotta eat. Don’t like doing it alone, so take it and make me happy.”

          As they pulled out onto the highway again, Hal made an offer. “Hey, if I can help drive or give you a hand any other way, let me know. Got a valid Texas license.”

          Hawk nodded, but the phrase “or give you a hand any other way” kept rolling around in his head. Fifty miles down the road, he asked as casually as possible. “Give me a hand… how?”

           The marine shrugged. “Don’t know. You name it, and I’ll do it if I can.”

          “Man, I’m not very good at this,” Hawk observed.

          “Just spit it out, man. What you got in mind?”

          “You ever get with a guy?” Hawk blurted.

          The man studied the road for a long minute. “Never figured you for that. But yeah. Stationed in an embassy overseas. Not supposed to get involved with their women, so this buddy and me helped one another out. Without no women, what else you gonna do?” He looked at Hawk. “That what you want?”

          Hawk shrugged. “Just a thought.” He flushed beneath the gyrene’s gaze.

          “Sure, man. You a good-looking dude. What you want? Some head? I can do that.”

          “That’s what you did for one another?”

          “Yeah.” The moment grew awkward. “So what do we do, pull off on the desert somewhere.”

          “I guess,” Hawk said without much conviction. “Never done it in the open like this. Well, I have, but it was with a woman.”

          “You do this for a change of pace?”

          “Guess that’s it.” Hawk spotted a turnoff and followed it a mile or so off the highway. In the middle of nowhere, he turned his truck out onto the desert bed.

          “How we gonna do this?”

          “Shit, I don’t know,” Hawk replied, beginning to regret the whole thing… until the marine put a warm hand on his groin.

          “How about you come sit on the edge of the seat and I’ll stoop down?”

          The man unbuckled Hawk’s belt and stripped his trousers to his ankles. Hal gave a smile. “Never tried an uncircumcised one before.”

           “New experience.”

          Hal dropped to his knees and within moments, Hawk figured the guy had learned well on his gyrene buddy. He soon groaned and pumped his hips until it was over.

          “That okay?” Hal asked, standing. His jeans bulged.

          “Great!” Hawk touched the man’s fly. Hal leaned into his hand. Hawk studied the man’s clear blue eyes. “Can’t return the favor, but if you want to get it off, you can lean against me.”

          “Thanks,” Hal said, ripping open his fly. “You’re a sexy dude, Hawk. Glad you picked me up.” He pressed his back against Hawk’s chest and stroked himself. He laid his head against Hawk’s cheek and sighed. “Feels good, man.”

          Hawk ran his hand over the man’s torso, feeling the difference between him and the kid back in Phoenix. This was a man. With that realization, he began to get aroused again. Hal ground his butt against him, and before Hawk really understood what was happening, he was inside the hunky marine.

          “Oh, shit!” Hal murmured.

          Imprisoned between the car seat by the weight of the marine’s body, Hawk let Hal do all the work. The marine muttered, more than to Hawk, until he stiffened and let out a groan. The marine’s orgasm brought Hawk over the edge. Breathing hard, they remained cuddled against one another for a few minutes until Hawk reached behind the seat and drug out a canteen. Hal cleaned them both. There wasn’t as much awkwardness as with the kid in town, but there wasn’t any afterglow either. Hawk was glad the man was quiet when they were back on the road. Hawk made sure he had some eating money when he let Hal off at a truck stop on I-10.

           Arriving home in the early evening, Hawk unloaded the pickup, took a long, hot shower, and went to bed early to review the past few days. The trip hadn’t been a waste because he’d learned something about himself. Casual, promiscuous sex with males wasn’t his thing. It felt too sordid, wrong… sinful even. And that wasn’t right, because there was nothing wrong with what he’d had with beautiful Ramon and handsome Brit.

           Hawk rose with the morning star to sit on his front porch in the darkness and sip a cup of black coffee. This morning he’d go to work, and Grover Whitedeer would be there demanding to hear about his vacation. Handsome, sexy, funny Grove. Of course, there wasn’t much he could tell him except how great the Grand Canyon was.

*****

I get the feeling Hawk’s finished experimenting. He now knows what… or who… he wants. As single-minded as he is, he’ll probably got at it with determination. Will it result in a love affair or a broken friendship?

Please consider ordering Cut Hand and Johnny Two-Guns from Dreamspinner Press. I’d like to convince them to publish the rest of the Cut Hand Series, including the unpublished manuscript Wastelakapi… Beloved, It’ll take some help from readers to get Dreamspinner interested.

My contact information is provided below in case anyone wants to drop me a line:

Website and blog: markwildyr.com

Email: markwildyr@aol.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/mark.wildyr

Twitter: @markwildyr

The following are buy links for CUT HAND:

DSP Publications: https://www.dsppublications.com/books/cut-hand-by-mark-wildyr-420-b

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Cut-Hand-Mark-Wildyr-ebook/dp/B073D86RWV

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/book/cut-hand/id1256084273

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/cut-hand-2

And now my mantra: Keep on reading. Keep on writing. You have something to say, so say it!

Until next time.

Mark

New post at 6:00 a.m. on the first and third Thursdays of the month.

Hawk in the City (Part 2 of 3 parts)

markwildyr.com, Post #111

Time for the second installment of “A Hawk in the City.” Hawk’s about to go on a new venture, so let’s go along with him to see how it turns out. This segment picks up right after Hawk put his hands on a passed-out Grover Whitedeer and discovered a lust for his best bud.

*****

A HAWK IN THE CITY

          For the next few days Hawk fought an almost overwhelming need to confess what he had done to Grove. How would the guy react? He’d either get pissed off and rupture a friendship or give a belly laugh and make a joke out of it. One thing Hawk knew for sure… it was no joke. Not to him.

          The battle to get himself back under control almost cost him his reputation as a competent, unflappable professional of even temper and firm ideas about how things are done. Hawk laughed to himself. If they could only see him on the inside.

          He asked Amadeo for a few days off. Now that he had it, Hawk had no idea what to do with it. There was no reason to go home, his parents had gone over, and is brother lived in New York.

          “Hey, man,” Grove advised, “go to Tucson or Phoenix.”

          “Why?” Hawk demanded.

          Grove shrugged. “Find some girls. And live it up.”

           In the end, Hawk chose Phoenix, probably because Grove claimed it had the biggest bar in the southwest. Maybe he’d go on up to the Grand Canyon if he had the time.

           The drive was long, but reasonably pleasant. He got sidetracked by places like Cochise’s Hideout and Tombstone and drove straight through Phoenix to the Grand Canyon. The next day he found a decent motel on Van Buren, which seemed to be a main east-west drag through the city. With nothing better to do, that evening he hit the advertised “biggest bar in the west”. It was like every other bar in the world except you could have played football in it if you cleared the tables away. The Friday night crowd kept the joint jumping. He knew absolutely no one, but he’d been in hundred strange bars before, so he found a table and sipped on a brew while he waited to see what would happen.

          What happened was half a dozen women stopped by to chat, have a drink, and take his measure. He was tempted to latch onto one for old Grove, but that wasn’t the itch that needed attention. That realization surprised him. He’d been intimate with two men and had strong feelings for each. Women he’d got with on a whim, but sex with males had been accompanied by a strong mutual attraction. Now, he just wanted one to haul his ashes. Was that a deterioration of his ethical code? He snorted! What ethical code?

          A little before 2:00 a.m., he’d had his fill of the place. As he stood to go to the men’s room, Hawk discovered he’d had more to drink than he thought. He never staggered like some drunks, but he knew when his head wasn’t right… and his head wasn’t right.

           “Sir,” someone said at his side. “Last call if you want another drink before closing.”

          He turned his eyes on the waiter who’d spent the evening slipping back and forth between the tables, laughing and joking with the patrons as he took and delivered orders. Hawk took a good look at the kid. Had to be twenty-one to serve drinks, but he looked younger. Blond hair turning brown. Slim-waisted. Short. Wasn’t more than five-seven. Good-looking in a snub-nosed way.

          “Yeah, sure. Another beer. Right now I gotta go find the men’s room.”

          “It’s over there,” the kid said, pointing with his chin since his hands were full of dirty glasses. “If you want more than one I’ll have to bring it now. Can’t serve after this.”

          “Okay. Two if you’ll sit down and talk to me.”

          “Can’t. Working. There’s an after-hours joint up the street where you’ll find someone to talk to,” the kid answered.

          “Will you be there?”

          “No. Well. Sure, why not. I can unwind for an hour or so. Name’s Sam.”

          “Hawk. I’ll wait in the parking lot. Blue Dodge pickup…older model,” he added as an afterthought.

          When he returned from the men’s room, Hawk worked on beer as the place slowly emptied. He caught occasional glimpses of Sam as he rushed to clean his tables. The boy stopped by once.

          “Gonna take me half an hour to get outa here. It’s okay if you don’t want to wait.”

          “I’ll wait.”

          Exactly a half-hour after the joint closed, Sam walked to the pickup and crawled into the passenger’s seat. “You’ll have to take me home later, okay? The after-hours place is north of here.”

           Hawk exited the parking lot with exaggerated care and turned north. He sure as hell didn’t need a DUI in a strange city. The tiny joint was about as crowded as the bar had been, mostly with younger people. Hawk hadn’t been thinking straight, assuming they’d be left alone to talk. A couple of times Hawk saw the kid watching him talk to some woman who stopped by.

          Hawk stood. “Let’s get out of here.”

          Sam drained his cola, and they made their way out of the place.

          “Sorry to drag you here and then chicken out on you, Hawk said. “Somehow I thought it would be quieter.”

          “Yeah. You said you wanted to talk. How about here?” Sam suggested as he crawled into the cab of the pickup.

          “Fine with me,” Hawk said, and then promptly fell silent.

          Sam finally broke the quiet. “Lots of women stopped at your table to talk. You could have left with any of them. How come you didn’t? They’d talk to you. And you could have got something extra.”

          “Wasn’t in the mood, I guess. Fed up with women… for a while anyway.”

          “Oh, woman trouble, huh?”

          “You could say that? How about you?”

          “Don’t have one… right now.”

          “What do you do for diversion?”

          The kid’s eyes flicked over him. “Swim. Run some. Read. Work. Not much.”

          Hawk turned in the seat. “Sam, we can call it a night, and I can take you home or…?”

          “Or?”

          “Or I can take you to my motel.”

           Sam licked his lips nervously. “You aren’t…”

          “Aren’t what?”

          “You’re not trying to trap me, are you? I mean, you seem straight to me. I can tell you have lots of experience with women. You don’t act gay.”

          There it was, finally come to slap him in the face. Hawk considered the kid for a moment. “I don’t know if I am or not, Sam. But right now I want to go to my room with you and make love until you holler uncle.”

          Even in the darkness Hawk could see the boy color a bit. “I’m… I’m not very experienced at this kind of thing,” Sam said. “Only been with a couple of guys. Mostly just fooling around.”

          “What’ll it be?”

          “Will you take me home tomorrow morning?”

          The shy boy sitting beside him seemed completely different from the waiter trading insults with a host of drunken patrons. Neither of them spoke again until they entered the motel room.

          When Hawk undressed him, Sam clamped his hands over his genitals and blushed, reminding Hawk of a painting he’d seen once by someone named Rockwell. The Indian walked around behind the boy and gently massaged his shoulders until he slowly relaxed. A little later, as they lay naked side by side on the bed, Sam turned to him.

          “Can I just touch you? Anywhere I want?”

          “That’s what we’re here for.”

          “You’re so handsome,” the boy said. “And such a man! Why are you interested in me?”

          “You caught my eye in the bar, and I kept thinking it would be nice to feel your hands on me.”

          “Is it?” Sam asked, laying his head on Hawk’s chest.

          “Yes. Nice.”

          “You have such pretty skin. It’s different. Smooth like silk. And it’s—I don’t know—resilient, I guess you’d say. Like baby’s skin, only tougher.”

          Hawk laughed. “First time I’ve heard that.”

          Sam’s hands started to wander, stoking sensations inside Hawk. He’d expected more than masturbation, but he closed his eyes and allowed the boy his way. Hawk’s eyes snapped open as his ejaculation came almost without warning, which somehow made the orgasm more intense.

          “Did I do all right?” Sam asked.

          “You did something right!”

          “Will… will you hold me while I get it off?”

          Remembering Ramon’s shyness when they first explored one another, Hawk came up on his elbow to explore Sam’s fine body until the youth groaned through his own climax.

          Experiencing an awkwardness that Hawk hadn’t had with Ramon or Brit, made him realize he and this stranger had simply satisfied a biological urge. There was no love involved. He thought seriously of driving Sam home right then but took the lazy way and drifted off to sleep beside him.

          Sometime before dawn, he felt the boy stir. Moments later, a warm mouth closed over him. He hardened. Without either of them speaking a word, the boy worked over him until Hawk climaxed silently. Still without words, they fell back asleep.

          After a breakfast at the motel’s café, Hawk drove the boy to his rooming house. Sam shyly offered to meet him after work that evening, but Hawk said he was heading home this afternoon. Actually, he spent the next night in Phoenix as well. He found a downtown flea-market and got caught up buying little trinkets for the rest of the Rezagados. He bargained hard, but still spent too much. He didn’t care. Every one of his compadres would appreciate the joke the little gifts represented. He had dinner alone, got a good night’s sleep, and started back on Sunday.

*****

I sense mixed feelings from our friend Curt Huntinghawk. Think maybe his Phoenix trip simply confused him more. But he isn’t back home yet. Let’s see what happens next week. Remember, I’m posting weekly until this story is told. Then I’ll go back to first and third Thursdays.

Please consider ordering Cut Hand and Johnny Two-Guns from Dreamspinner Press. I’d like to convince them to publish the rest of the Cut Hand Series, including the unpublished manuscript Wastelakapi… Beloved, It’ll take some help from readers to get Dreamspinner interested.

My contact information is provided below in case anyone wants to drop me a line:

Website and blog: markwildyr.com

Email: markwildyr@aol.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/mark.wildyr

Twitter: @markwildyr

The following are buy links for CUT HAND:

DSP Publications: https://www.dsppublications.com/books/cut-hand-by-mark-wildyr-420-b

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Cut-Hand-Mark-Wildyr-ebook/dp/B073D86RWV

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/book/cut-hand/id1256084273

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/cut-hand-2

And now my mantra: Keep on reading. Keep on writing. You have something to say, so say it!

Until next time.

Mark

New post at 6:00 a.m. on Thursday.