MEN, MUSCLE, and MAYHEM (7 page)

I may come across as a hard ass or a heartless bitch, but one has to be tough to have made it as long as I have in this business. I have been acting since I was nine years old, so I don’t know any other world. But, I know that if I never became an actor, I would have had a career where I helped animals.

I met Tyler at an adopt-a-pet given by a local animal rescue organization. He was also a volunteer. The first thing I noticed was how the volunteer T-shirt hugged his body. The second thing I noticed was that he was more about doing the dirty work than telling me how much he loved my movies and crap. The third thing was his sense of humor. He made me laugh. This is a huge plus in my book. Usually, I am the one who has to be entertaining.

We spent the day talking to people as they came by to see the dogs. He and I also walked the dogs around the venue, so they wouldn’t get keyed up from sitting for so long. And, we chatted and joked around the whole time.

I found out he was a director of public relations for a local charity and had only lived in Los Angeles for a couple of months. He didn’t like bars or crowds, and the only hobby he had was the gym.

At the end of the day, I did something I never did. I gave him my private number. Usually, if I was to set up a date, I would have my assistant field the calls in case I was murdered. That way they could find the killer through his cell-phone records.

We texted and talked for two weeks. He was going back east for a wedding the weekend between, so we set our first date for the weekend after. I was excited about going out with Tyler. He seemed different from all the others. We had the same passions and the same warped sense of humor.

The Saturday of our date came, and he was running late, so he called because his GPS could not find my street. I knew it wouldn’t and told him so. My street is fairly new and unless you’ve updated your system in the last month or so, you won’t find it.

I talked him to my home. I didn’t ask him what he was driving. I guessed it would be a black BMW. It was. When I saw it approach the gate on my security camera, I buzzed him in.

We decided to go out to dinner. There is a nice Italian restaurant not far from where I live that is way off the beaten path, and no one has ever bothered me there. I let him drive, since a black car would be unnoticeable in LA. Who doesn’t have a black BMW in this town? Oh yeah, I don’t.

Dinner was nice, and he ate like a horse, which is another turn on. I get so sick of guys who won’t touch a piece of bread or salad dressing or dessert.

We came back to my place, and I took my dogs for a walk. He came with us. I already knew he liked dogs, and he was kind to the waiter in the restaurant.

You know what they say. Watch how a man treats dogs and waiters and that is how he will treat you.

I suggested watching a little television. Being in the business, there are two things I hardly have time to do – go to movies or watch TV. Can you believe it? I am usually on a set for twelve to fifteen hours a day, so who has the time?

We happened upon this show called
Drop Dead Diva
. I had heard about it, and there was some kind of marathon of first-season episodes on Lifetime, ‘television for women and gay men.’ We settled in. I fell in love with the show, and so did he. I had to get a box of Kleenex after the first couple of hours because we were crying at the sentimentality of it.

I made a mental note to call my agent and ask him to get me a guest spot on the show. I also found the actress who played the fat girl to be the most attractive woman I had seen in a long time. I like big women, and Brooke Elliot is just breathtaking. Tyler agreed.

After episode five, we started making out. He was probably the best kisser I had ever had the pleasure of tonguing. I was hard in an instant. This went on for a good hour before I led him to my bedroom.

That is when things got really hot and heavy. I slowly removed his shirt to reveal a very hairy, muscular body. I was so glad he didn’t shave his chest. I ran my face along his torso and bit his nipples, which apparently, he loved. It took a while to unbutton his jeans, and he managed to get mine off a lot quicker. We continued making out, biting, licking, and feeling with our briefs on. Mine were black with white stripes; his were red with black stripes. Both pairs were wet with precum stains.

Finally naked, we really got down to business. I don’t know who was more into oral, but we competed with who could suck the best and longest. I think he won. I then flipped him on his stomach and took a dive for his hairy ass, but not before I admired his muscular legs. I never saw such muscular legs in my life. He flexed them for me, and I was his forever.

His ass was a true delight. I kidded him about how it glowed in the dark, being so white against his tan skin. Mine is the same shade as the rest of me because I suntan nude on my private pool deck.

I ate him out as if they had not served me enough at dinner. My tongue gave his pucker a good workout, then I worked a wet finger into his hole, and he moaned and wiggled his butt.

He begged me to fuck him. So, I put on a raincoat, lubed up my pole and his hole, and I slowly entered him while he moaned and pushed back wanting more and more of my dick.

Tyler was so sensual and so sexy and so nice and so funny and so my type, that I decided to forego the usual Olympic-style fucking I usually perform and give him a slow, easy, loving fuck.

I reached around and pinched his nipples while I licked his neck and fucked him all the way in, and all the way out. He was moaning and begging for more and telling me how much he loved it. I was able to keep up for some time, and after a long while, he announced he was going to come.

He came all over the sheets underneath us, and the feeling of his pulsing ass made me come as well, filling the condom completely.

I asked him to spend the night. But, he said it was best he went home. However, he asked if we could get together the next night. I, of course, said yes.

I slept well that night. In the morning, I knew I would get the usual text message. You know the one. It is the one you get after a long while of hot and heavy communications followed by a phenomenal date and earth moving sex.

My phone buzzed around ten in the morning. There was a text message.

“I woke up feeling like hell. I won’t be able to make it tonight. How about next weekend?”

I just rolled my eyes. I texted back, “Wow. Guys usually wait until the second or third date to get sick, and then we never see each other again. Feel better.”

It is amazing how predictable some people are. I called that one the minute he begged me to fuck him. Some call this psychic ability.

I call it “bitch, please.”

A JEW FOR ALL SEASONS

For Sammy, Christmas was his least favorite time of year. The season always annoyed him, for he felt bombarded by reindeer, snowmen, Santas, elves, stockings and everything else that made the season unbearable. He remembered the other kids teasing him about being Jewish when he was growing up in the South, but what he hated most was being asked, “Is Hanukah the Jewish Christmas?” He would always answer, “No. Christmas is the Jewish Christmas. Jesus was Jewish, Mary and Joseph were Jewish, and at least one of the Wise Men was Jewish. That would be the one who brought the fur.” He would then go on to tell them that Christmas was not Jesus’s birthday as he was born during the month of
Elul
, which falls in August or September, depending on the lunar calendar cycle. But, they weren’t interested in education, and he would be beaten up by a gang of them during this time of peace and holiness, for ridiculing their yuletide cheer.

So, it was ironic that during the recession of 2008, Sammy, would find himself grateful to have a job as a department store Santa, for he had been almost nine months without full-time employment. He was also grateful for Christmas Eve as that marked his last day in the red fat suit. December 24 also marked the last day he would have to work with Marvin, the ornery elf they assigned to him for the prior month. To make the day even more special, the last kid to sit on Sammy’s lap lacked bladder control.

Both Sammy and Marvin had similar features, dark curly hair cut short, piercing green eyes, olive-toned skin and full lips, but that was where the similarities ended. Sammy was over six-foot-two, and Marvin was a little over four feet.

Sammy walked back to the dressing room that was reserved for Santa and his helpers to change and quickly stripped himself of his costume. He no sooner had put on his jeans and sweatshirt when Marvin walked in and began to strip.

“Fucking brats,” the holiday elf said as he took off his green felt shirt.

Sammy didn’t bother to look at the little guy because his attitude was a turn off, nor did he respond.

“I’ll bet you’re glad this gig is over,” Marvin continued.

“Yeah, but I do hate to lose the paycheck,” Sammy answered.

“Me, too. It’s been tough finding a job.”

Sammy wanted to comment on Marvin’s attitude being a hindrance to finding gainful employment, but he just was not in the mood to get into a conversation with him, and now that this job was over, he didn’t have to.

“You want to get a drink?” Marvin asked.

Sammy, who had his backpack over one shoulder and was heading out of the dressing room, turned around and gave Marvin a look of disbelief.

“Well?”

“It’s just that you’ve been pretty much an asshole this past month, and you haven’t said two words directly to me since we started. Now you want to go out for a drink?” Sammy asked.

“Yeah. Look, I hated this gig, and besides you tall people always get to play Santa while the real elves,” and Marvin gestured to himself as if on display, “don’t get to play the jolly ole St. Nick. So, forgive me if I’m not such a happy leprechaun. I also don’t care too much for the goyim or their spoiled kids.”

“You’re Jewish?” Sammy asked.

“My name is Marvin Minkoff.”

“Who knew? Mine is Sammy Sagman,” he said with a smile.

“I know. I looked at your application after they hired you. What do you know? Two members of the tribe celebrating
their
lord and savior’s birth,” Marvin said as he put on his jacket.

“Which took place during
Elul
,” Sammy said. “What the hell? Let’s go get a drink.”

Marvin grabbed his backpack, and they headed out of the department store and down the street looking for a bar that might be open. Sammy knew of a leather bar around the corner, but he wasn’t sure if Marvin swung that way. They walked a couple of blocks before Marvin stopped.

“There’s the Falcon, Down Under’s, the Garage … pick one,” Marvin said.

Realizing Marvin did swing that way, Sammy picked the Garage as it was the only one quiet enough to allow for a conversation. Sammy suggested they put their backpacks in the trunk of his car, so they doubled back to the parking lot, ditched their backpacks, and walked the four blocks to the Garage.

As it turned out, Marvin was not the jerk Sammy thought he was; he just wasn’t happy about his employment situation, and being a little person made it that much harder to find a job as many potential employers did not take him seriously when he came in for an interview. Sammy couldn’t quite figure out what Marvin did for a living, but it sounded a bit like an assembly-line supervisor or a social worker. And, Sammy didn’t bother interrogating him too much. Sammy was a print production manager before the company where he worked went under.

Around eleven, they decided to call it a night. They walked back to Sammy’s car to retrieve Marvin’s backpack before Sammy drove home.

“Do you need a ride?” Sammy asked as he closed the trunk.

“That’s OK; I can catch the bus.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, besides, it’s Christmas Eve; where are you going to get a bus at this hour?” Sammy asked.

“It’s just that …”

“Get in the car,” Sammy insisted.

Marvin climbed in, and Sammy asked where he lived. Marvin only gave him cross streets.

When they arrived at the destination, Sammy saw a rundown motel offering weekly rates and efficiencies. He was heartsick. In the few hours he had spent with Marvin, he had grown a little fond of him, and he didn’t like the idea of his having to live like this in what was essentially a crack house offering weekly rates.

“Is that where you live?” Sammy asked pointing to the motel across the street.

“Yeah, and don’t give me any lectures. I had a nice time tonight and thanks for the ride …”

“Not so fast,” Sammy interrupted. “Go in and get your things. I have a two bedroom apartment. My roommate moved out a while ago, and I need help with the rent. No arguments, you can stay for as little or as long as you want,” Sammy said, and he was surprised at how quickly he offered Marvin a place to stay. This was so not like him to let just anyone into his home; however, Sammy was a compassionate person, and he knew he would not be able to sleep nights knowing Marvin was living in these conditions.

“Look, I don’t need looking after …”

“I know, but I am not leaving you here. I don’t care how long you’ve lived here. This isn’t safe, and I’m not leaving until we get your things and you come with me. End of discussion,” Sammy said as he pulled up to the front of the motel. “What room is yours?”

Marvin stared at him for a second then resigned himself to the fact that he was not going to win this one. “Eight-H.”

They gathered Marvin’s things, which didn’t take long as he pretty much sold everything he owned before moving into this dump. After packing them up in the trunk, Sammy drove them to his apartment. While he did not live in luxury or even the best neighborhood, Sammy’s place was a far cry from where Marvin called home.

They carried Marvin’s few boxes upstairs, and Sammy directed him to the spare room, which had a dresser, a bed and a nightstand with a lamp. The place was not that large, and they would have to share a bathroom, but Marvin did not complain. He unpacked his things while Sammy puttered around his bedroom getting ready for bed. He took off his shirt as it was unseasonably warm for this time of year and exchanged his jeans for some sweatpants, sans underwear.