It was several weeks after my Sunday with Alex and the return of my Sunday's with Dan, when my phone rang on a Tuesday evening.
"Hello Sam, its Alex. Did you think about my offer to you?"
"Hello Alex. Yes I did think about it. I also took your gift to Fields and Sid took care of me. He picked a suit, shirts, slacks and shoes for me and he charged me only $300, though I think the actual price was higher. He did spend a long time making sure that the pants had just enough room in the crotch and told me to thank you for sending him such a well endowed customer. As for your offer, I'll give it a try. Is that why you called?"
"Yes Sam. I have a friend who has an extra ticket to the Chicago Symphony for Saturday night. He is an elegant gentleman who has substantial family money. I know you will like his apartment on the eleventh floor of 860 Lake Shore Drive. That's right the Mies van der Rohe building. The symphony tickets are fifth row orchestra just left of center. I know because I've sat with him several times.
"He will send a taxi to your apartment to take you to his place for a glass of wine before the concert. Then it will be a taxi to Orchestra Hall for the performance. After the show it will be a taxi back to his place for whatever you two do. I think it likely that he will want to serve you a cream filled eclair for desert. When you are finished he will call you a cab to take you back home. What do you say?"
"It all sounds grand. Do you know the program so I can be prepared to talk about it with him before and after the performance? After all, I do not want him to think I am not very cultured."
"I have it somewhere. Here it is; Carlo Maria Giulini is conducting Berlioz excerpts from Romeo and Juliet, Mozart Symphony No. 39 the Haffner and Stravinsky's Suite from The Firebird. You should be able to find records of all three pieces with liner notes at your college library. Be sure to know more about the music then the liner notes, he'll be able to tell that you just cribbed from them."
"OK, I'll do it. What time should I be ready and what is his name?"
"The taxi will be at your place at 6:00. His name is Mr. Charlus, not Charles, Charlus. He will tell you about himself when you meet him, he always does."
"Six o'clock Saturday night it is. Here is my address."
"One more thing. He is around 70 years old and as such will not be able to enjoy your sweet ass. This means that you can still keep your regular meeting with Dan for you to get the satisfaction that apparently you have come to need."
"Thanks. I look forward to meeting Mr. Charlus."
I found the recordings of the three pieces and listened to them while studying. I read about them in the Grove Dictionary of Music so I had more to say. I particularly liked the ending of Firebird, the triumphant chords are soul stirring. The Chicago Symphony should make them sound like the world is being reborn.
It was a cool November evening at 6:00 when the taxi arrived and nearly 7:00 when we got to 860 Lake Shore Drive. The concierge called Mr. Charlus and directed me to the elevator. He was there when the doors opened. Alex said he was elegant and that fit him perfectly. He was 5'8" and a trim 165 pounds. He had a full head of gray hair, a pencil thin mustache that matched his gray eyes. I do not know much about clothes but his suit and shirt looked like they were hand tailored.
"You must be Sam. I have heard much about you from Alex and Dan. They say lovely things about you and they were right about your looks. You have beautiful hair and skin. Oh and they both said something about your mouth. But enough of that, come in and let's have some wine before we leave for the concert."
We went into Mr. Charlus's fantastic apartment. The sofa was set so that we could sit and look at downtown Chicago to the north. I was directed to the sofa and the wineglasses were set on the coffee table. Mr. Charlus poured a deep red burgundy and it was the best wine I had ever tasted before or since. He sat next to me and patted my knee.
"I suppose that Alex told you I'd tell you about my unusual name and its history. Of course he did. My great- uncle was a french nobleman who lived in Paris and Normandy. He knew all the best people and was a patron of the arts. One of the people he supported was Marcel Proust. Do you know the name? I suspected not. Proust wrote one of the great novels of this century, Remembrance of Things Past. He put my great-uncle in the book as Mr. Charlus. This character was a bisexual. At one point he makes a pass at the author when the author was about your age. The author was naive and did not understand my great-uncle or the benefits that would come to him by accepting the sexual offer. Since the novel is so very long, over 3300 pages, many things happen to my great-uncle's character in the book including descent into sadomasochistic gay sex.
"Of course the book was fiction in part. My great-uncle was a bisexual and he did make a pass at young Marcel Proust. Even though Proust turned him down my great-uncle still respected Proust's talent and he introduced Marcel to many important French intellectuals and artists. My great-uncle saw that the World War would devastate his fortune so he sold as much as he could and came to Chicago with his wealth intact. Since he had no children I inherited most of his estate."
"It is time for us to go to the symphony. I'll have the building staff call a cab and it will be waiting for us."
We talked about the concert on the way to Orchestra Hall. We both shared enthusiasm for Firebird and the Haffner. As we moved through the Orchestra Hall lobby many of the audience members came over to greet Mr. Charlus and he introduced me just by name. We took our seats and Mr. Charlus put me on his right. As the performance started he reached over and left his hand on my thigh. He stroked it throughout the Berlioz and the Mozart. His touch was light and sensual. I moved my cock over so that he could touch the tip as he stroked up to my crotch.
After intermission we changed seats with me on his left. I knew what I was supposed to do and put my hand on his thigh. He covered my hand with his and guided it throughout the performance. I could feel his cock with just my little finger as I brushed against it. As the piece reached its climax, Mr. Charlus put my hand over his shaft and I felt him thicken up. We joined the audience in the expected standing ovation and I swear Carlo Maria Giulini looked directly at Mr. Charlus and gave a little bow.
On the way back to Mr. Charlus's apartment, I was really feeling affectionate toward him. He was a charming man, funny, warm and intelligent. I was thinking about his story about young Marcel Proust and his great-uncle. Young Proust missed an opportunity to advance in society and to explore his own sexuality with a gay patron. If my Mr. Charlus was going to make this kind of offer to me, I was ready to accept it. There was no guarantee that Mr. Charlus was thinking of more then an delightful sexual encounter with me but if I was able to really please him without being too obviously ambitious then perhaps more could come from tonight then just a nice orgasm. So I put my hand on the seat next to him and he covered it with his hand. He caressed my hand lingering on the space between my fingers all the while talking about his friend Carlo Maria.
When we got back to the apartment, Mr. Charlus asked me to shower with the lavender soap and to put on the robe left in the bathroom. He told me that he'd be waiting for me in the bedroom and not to keep him waiting too long. Mr. Charlus had left hangers for my clothes in the bathroom and I jumped into the shower. The soap made my skin smell of lavender and I paid extra attention on my cock and ass. I knew that Mr. Charlus would not be putting his cock in my ass but I still wanted to smell good for him.
