San Francisco
Part 3

Pop was already demolishing his plate of food as I sat next to him at his table. "Did you see that guy?"

"What guy?"

"The tall guy with the dark hair and the killer smile. He helped me choose my food. Name's Spencer. Hey! How do you use these damn sticks?"

"Chopsticks. And you eat with one hand, not two. They're not knitting needles, Daniel."

Pop showed me how to place the sticks between certain fingers, then use my thumb to manipulate them. Before eating, though, I glanced around at the other diners, who were mostly Chinese, and watched them shovelling food into their mouths at a million miles an hour. Looked easy enough. Yeah, right.

After about a dozen frustrating attempts at trying to catch a single, elusive shrimp, I turned to the old dude who was way too busy eating to notice my plight. "Hey, Pop! This thing is still alive, right?"

"You're not handling your chopsticks properly, Daniel. Keep practicing."

"Yeah, right. Why can't I just use my damn fingers?"

"When in Rome..."

"What's Rome got to do with it?"

"Never mind. Just keep practicing."

"Having trouble?" came the voice from behind me.

"Hi, Spencer," I said as I turned and recognized his face. "Yeah. I'll starve to death before the night's out."

"Let me show you."

Spencer took my hand in his, then guided my fingers. Suddenly, the evasive shrimp was locked between the ends of the two sticks. Spencer then steered the food toward my mouth.

"Mmmm! Awesome!"

I felt like a bit of a fucking dork as Spencer kept feeding me, but it was kinda cool to have him holding my hand and being so close. There was some kinda aura thing happening, as if I'd been locked into his warmth and magnetic presence.

Following a few fumbling attempts of my own, I finally managed to get the hang of the chopsticks. "Thanks Spencer," I grinned. "I owe you, man."

"Glad to help. Enjoy your meal, Daniel. Hey, I'd better get back to my buds. Ciao."

After Spencer had given me another flash of his wicked smile and left, I turned to Pop. "That was the guy I was telling you about. Mmmm! Woohoo! I can't believe how delicious this food is! How come Chinese people know how to cook like this?"

"Lots of practice over thousands of years. I think he likes you."

"Who?"

"Spencer."

"Think so? Yeah." I paused to shovel a piece of totally mouthwatering Mongolian lamb into my mouth, then continued. "I guess he does. I could kinda feel it when he was standing behind me, and touching my hand. Think he'll be back?"

"He said he was with his buds."

"Yeah. Damn!"

"He's very good looking."

"You getting horny, Pop?"

"I was just making an innocent observation."

"Yeah, right, Pop. You wanna stand up now?"

"No."

After a second helping of food, and coffee, Pop and I left the restaurant. Outside, I noticed a group of guys standing around a Ford Bronco parked in the street, and recognized one of them as Spencer. But they were all kinda laughing and joking, so I decided not to interfere.

It was only about 10:30pm when we arrived back at the hotel room, where Pop made a beeline for the bar fridge. "Wanna beer?"

"Cool," I said as I sat on the side of my bed and took off my shoes, followed by the rest of my clothes. "Mind if I get naked?"

"You already are. Maybe I need something stronger than beer."

"Chill, Pop. It's just a bod." I took the small bottle of beer Pop offered me, opened it, then sat on one of the easy chairs. "Do you really think Spencer likes me? He didn't even notice me when we left the restaurant."

"He'd like you even more if he could see you now. By the way, I'll be spending most of tomorrow with my publisher friend. You're welcome to come along if you like."

"You gonna stitch up a deal?"

"No. It'll just be an informal chat... talking about old times, etcetera. Maybe a bit of sightseeing. The deal, if any, will be done at his office during the week."

"Maybe I'll skip tomorrow, Pop... let you guys rap in private. I'd like to take a look around the city."

"But your mother said..."

"For fuck sake, Pop! Mom doesn't hold my hand everywhere I go. I'll be OK on my own. I'm a big boy now."

"So I notice," he smiled while gawking at my semi, which was hanging lazily over my balls.

"I wish Spencer was here. Have you ever seen guys doing stuff, Pop? Like in the same room?"

"I've been to a few parties in my time. But I have to say that nothing compares to you, even if you're not 'doing stuff'." Pop took a sip of beer while his eyes drifted over my bod, soaking up every tanned nook and cranny. "I can't even begin to imagine what it must be like to exist within an exquisite body like yours... to turn heads... to be so desirable... to be so perfect."

"Hey, it's just me," I shrugged. "Y'know? Like I don't go around checking myself out. Well, I do when I'm working out with my chest expander at home. But that's different."

"And what do you see?"

"A cool bod... the result of a lotta effort working out. But that's not the same as checking out some other dude's bod. I don't get off looking at myself."

"But others do."

"Like you?" I cracked. "Hey, it's cool, Pop. You can gawk all you wanna. Fine with me."

"Why don't you have an inflated ego, Daniel? You're entitled to one. No... entitled is the wrong word. What I mean is... well, you're well above average aesthetically speaking. You must be aware of it."

"You mean I look hot? Sure, Pop. I'm aware of it. I'm sitting here while you're gawking at me, aren't I? And I dig it when people gawk at me. Makes me feel cool. It's a fucking major compliment, y'know? OK, so I get naked and show off. I do it on purpose to get attention. So what's the biggie? You dig gawking, and I dig being gawked at. Know what I mean? It's one of those mutual thingies." And with that, I threw a leg over the arm of the chair so that Pop could get an eyeful of my rosebud.

"You're incorrigible. And you didn't answer my question."

"About ego? Hey, Pop, you're forgetting about my buds... Paul, Kyle, Jason, Dick... all of them. You've seen them. You've seen how fucking awesome they are. And I'm supposed to get an inflated ego? Yeah, right."

"So you see yourself as an equal?"

"Sometimes less than equal, Pop."

"Really?"

"Sometimes."

"I find that difficult to comprehend, Daniel. I mean, just looking at you right now..."

"Hey, Pop... you think I don't gawk, too? Not at you, though," I laughed. "Sorry, Pop. You know what I mean. Hey, when I met Spencer tonight, it was like he ruled. Totally. Y'know? It was like I was second best. Inferior, somehow. Same thing happened when I met Kyle. Blew me away, big time."

"I can't imagine you feeling inferior."

"There was this weird thing that happened when Spencer was teaching me how to use chopsticks. He was holding my hand, and leaning over me... and I could feel something... something invisible... one of those aura thingies... but I could feel it. Y'know? Like it was invisible but physical. Does that make sense, Pop?"

"Yes."

"You've experience that, too?"

"Don't you think you have an aura?"

"You've felt mine?"

"Many times."

"How did it make you feel?"

"Like having -- make that needing -- another drink. You want another beer before bed?"

"Gotta take a leak first. Hey! Why don't I piss in this empty bottle, then put the lid back on? I can put it back in the fridge... in a special place so you and I know where it is, but when the next dude arrives..."

"Daniel!"

"What?" I asked as I put the lip of the bottle against my pisshole.

"Don't you dare!"

"Party pooper. I can just imagine the next dude..."

"Don't even think about it!"

While I was in the bathroom, sending my piss to who knew where, I realized that Pop hadn't answered my question about my aura. "So auras really do exist," I said to myself. "Hmmm."

Back in the main room, I got Pop to stand close to me while I closed my eyes. "Can you feel anything?"

"Yes."

"I can't."

"Maybe auras need some special trigger to turn them on... to begin communicating with another aura."

"That's weird," I concluded as I opened my eyes. "I could sense Spencer's but not yours."

"Maybe it's also a chemistry thing. Who knows?"

"So how come my aura was communicating with yours, but yours wasn't communicating with mine?" I sat down, took a sip of beer, then added, "I think I know."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. You're afraid of me, Pop. Your aura's afraid of mine. It's like you're putting up some kinda barrier. That's why you get all bent outa shape when I tease you. Right?"

"Maybe."

"Hmmm. I wonder if my aura was communicating with Spencer's."

"No doubt about it," Pop chuckled. "How often would a person go up to a total stranger in a busy restaurant, hold his hand, and teach him how to use chopsticks?"

"Which reminds me... how come you didn't?"

"I was preoccupied with my sang choy bow. Speaking of which, we should phone reception and order breakfast. 8am OK with you?"

"Cool."

I waited 'til Pop picked up the phone, then I began to stroke my thick, lazy cock. He immediately turned his back on me as he continued to place the order for breakfast. So I sprang outa the chair, then went around in front of him, still stroking my semi as I thrust my hips forward.

"Hey, Pop... they got sausage?"

"Oh, my God! Huh? Yes, I'm fine. No, there's no problem. My friend wants... uh, sausage. Yes, country sausage sounds fine. Hash browns? Yes, please. Freshly squeezed juice? Stop that! Sorry... I didn't mean you... I meant.. never mind. Yes, freshly squeezed orange juice. Thank you. Uh, Daniel, would you like a selection of... Stop doing that! No, not you. Yes, we'll have the freshly baked pastries served with butter, preserves, and honey. What time? It's eleven thirty. Oh! Sorry! Ha, ha, ha. You mean what time for breakfast? Sorry, I thought you meant... uh, 8am would be fine. Thank you very much. Bye." Pop replaced the phone, then glared at me. "Daniel!" A second later, he was laughing his tits off.

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