Victor Strelsky at 26 had reached his dream of being drafted by the Pittsburgh Steelers. His dad had begun promoting his football abilities in the eighth grade. He had a gift. He found the ball and the ball found him. Victor sailed through high school into college on his athletic abilities. Turning pro was the natural step in Victor's career. There was just one glitch: Victor is gay and he knows well that gay doesn't play well in the NFL. Victor has become the supreme actor, convincing himself that his dating is serious and his relationships with women can lead somewhere. Victor performs well in bed because he knows that hot gossip is a career builder. The more they talk, the more important he becomes.
However, a hollowness is always stinging at the core of his wanting to be himself... to be with another man and experience his deepest desires.
So it hits him out of the blue when another more seasoned player outs him in the locker room.
The locker room has emptied after practice, and only Lamar is finishing up as Victor is. Of course, there has been the conscious avoidance of looking too intensively at another player at any time despite the Olympian comradery.
Lamar begins, "I just want you to know you don't have to play your game with me."
"And just what do you mean by that?"
"You know what I mean by that. Image is one thing; the real person is another. Let's just say that Lamar know what evil lurks in the heart of man."
"I don't have any evil lurking in my heart."
"Oh, yes, you do. You have something that the league perceives as evil."
"Like, what?"
"Like who you really want to go to bed with."
"I fuck women. No big deal."
"But that's not what you really want. You want dick."
"Fuckin', man... forget talking that shit."
"Like I said, you don't have to defend yourself to me. In fact, I'll let you in on a little, well, not so little secret: Charleroi... about
25 miles south. There's an off the road, discrete adult bookstore with a regular who will make you shake, rattle, and roll. He's old, not too much of a shape, bald, but he's got a dick that will drive you wild. He'll suck you like you've never been sucked in your life, and he'll fuck you like you've never been fucked before. I'm not saying you'd enjoy the experience or anything, but just thought you'd like to know. And don't be surprised if you happen to run into another team member there, too. Just saying."
"I fuck women."
"Sure, you do."
Lamar finishes dressing and filling his bag. Lamar disappears.
Victor has never had anybody speak to him that way before. He questions his every move since joining the Steelers. He knows he has done nothing differently than he has in the past, which has always masked his true interior self from the world, from those who may suspect he isn't straight. He couldn't argue with Lamar, but he wondered if Lamar has spread the word about him. He'd know the next time the team would be together. He'd gage their reactions to see what Lamar had done.
Despite the fear of being discovered¸ Victor couldn't get the story and the directions that Lamar gave him out of his head. 25 miles away. Great cocksucker. The thought intrigued him. The thought kept running itself through his head. He knew he'd have some free time, and he'd drive a rental car so no one would recognize his distinct ride.
The next day the locker room and practice are fine. Victor feels no distance from his fellow players. Even Lamar plays it as the conversation had never occurred.
Victor keeps debating within himself whether or not to find this spot, this hidden den of the flesh and indulge himself there, hoping to meet the man Lamar described. That Saturday morning Victor finds himself inserting his credit card into the chip reader and signing for a silver gray sedan. He drives the car back to his apartment and changes into blue jeans and a flannel shirt. His athletic body defines the clothing. His full flaccid dick bulges comfortably against the denim.
The drive down to Charleroi gives Victor time to think, to think about what could happen, what hasn't happened, literally, in years. Victor has risked nothing for his career, so he has stayed on the straight and narrow. This venture is the first time he is giving into his genuine desires.
At the same time Victor is driving his rental car to the place he hopes to find a sexual experience that will satisfy him, at least for a while, the lead supervisor at the glass factory is finding it convenient that the new order that is being filled is a rush job with extra, flexible hours. Lonnie keeps thinking of how he can give himself at least an hour at the bookstore. He trusts his second-in-command to close down and clean up for the evening, allowing him to leave early.
Lonnie thinks to spruce himself up a bit before making his stop at the bookstore. Looking in the men's shower room's mirrors, he sees a man in his sixties, who has stopped smoking and put on some weight. The luscious head of wavy dark hair has long left him, but his central European features and the dick that hangs between his legs gives him an appeal that is ageless. He is a mature man, but a man, a pleasant man, a man one so rarely encounters. Like the Monk Rasputin, he is to be shared with the world. Lonnie, although married with a goodly number of children and grandchildren, feeds off the exchanges of strange male encounters.
He exists in a world in which sharing brings such a feeling of satisfaction, he cannot help himself from wanting to give himself and receive what the universe gives him in return. For Lonnie, sex is a tantric experience, a relationship with the universe in the form of another man, especially another man he can have sex with.
When Lonnie first came out to himself, it was with a construction worker the summer of his 18th year. The object of his affection was a young man of 26, built like a piece of sculpture and hung. Lonnie fixated on that man all his life. His dream fantasy to this moment is a 26 year old, solid as a rock gifted young man. Lonnie's heart vibrates to that image... not that other men have not touched him deeply, and their images remain. They are another reality, an echo of the ages, as if the meeting were as profound as that between Jesus and John, or a conversation between Krishna and Arjuna. Those encounters were so rare they were less than all the fingers on one hand.
Lonnie puts the finishing touches on his clothing and leaves the factory. He slips into his car and slowly leaves the parking lot.
Victor who takes the afternoon driving around the town lets the sun set behind the range line before he pulls into the bookstore he has located hours before. His adrenalin is flowing. He sees four cars in the area and hopes one of them belongs to the mystery man, the man he has come to experience. Victor sits in his rental car debating whether or not he should go through with his plan. He sees some young guys, all teched out, enter the building. A couple guys come out and go to their respective cars and leave. Victor unbuttons his fly, exposing himself. He squeezes his dick and enjoys the response. He is so turned on by the possibilities and the dangers, he hardens immediately and the pre-cum starts flowing. He looks down as a car pulls into the lot. Maybe this is the man, he thinks. The man is in his thirties, well put together, but definitely not the man Lamar had described. Finally, after he almost makes himself cum and ruin the whole experience, Victor buttons up and decides to go inside. He pays his money and gets his stamp. He doesn't remain long in the open area as he doesn't want to be recognized by anyone. His eyes take a few moments to adjust to the darkness of the labyrinth.
Meanwhile, Lonnie drives carefully to the bookstore, parking around to the back side. He locks up, and enters the bookstore. He's greeted warmly but minimally, as to keep the atmosphere from seeming to open or familiar. Lonnie pays his fee, gets his stamp, and proceeds, after looking around the open area and seeing no one, to the back to check out the booths. Victor decides to find a spot and station himself and let the rest of the men pass by.
Built when this factory town was union driven and thriving really well, the bookstore has two levels, being on the side of an embankment. There were nights back in day when the parking lot was overflowing, the men parked along the highway. Men were being their rawest selves. Booth sex led to sex in the hallways with hot sweaty workers jacking to a hot fuck scene happening right in front of them. A group of jackers segued into a sucker on his knees tasting all the hard dicks with his mouth and throat. The sucking became as hot as the fucking. Men reveled in the sweat, the unctuous smells of sex, the closeness and the affirmation of their manliness. Then the factories closed, and the bookstore survived because of its proximity to Pittsburg and the men there who wanted to have their time with another man, but wanted a certain amount of distance between their families and their desires.
Lonnie runs into a regular who immediately inveigles him into his booth where they both play for a while. Although these two men have had really hot exchanges, tonight lacks any real chemistry. The play ends without any resolution. Lonnie heads for the rest room to rinse out and gargle and wash his hands. Lonnie takes a leak and heads back into the mix. Victor is now part of that mix.
In the fairly large and complex hallways, Lonnie takes his time, looking into the booths with open doors. He rounds the corner and there stands Victor. Rushes of the deepest desire stimulated by his vision of Victor sweep over Lonnie. He sees his 26 year old mentor as if it were yesterday and the decades vanish in his mind and give Lonnie the knowledge that this dream is going to be his.
Lonnie stares at Victor. Victor stares back. Lonnie, to Victor, is like any number of the other older guys trolling around for action. Yet something within Victor tingles and elicits an involuntary response. Victor still isn't sure this man leaning against a booth and staring at him is the one Lamar told him about.
