Eye Of The Beholder

EHOLDER

…I peered out through the streaky glass at the glow of the city

lights and wondered if I‟d someday make enough money to have a real
view. The surprising, and scary, answer to that musing was I actually
might. My employer recognized my talent.

I was just about to tuck my toes under the sheet when, for no real

reason,  a  movement  on  the  other  side  of  the  narrow  alley  drew  my
attention.  I  yawned  as  the  lights  in  the  apartment  across  the  way  and
down a story went out. The lower half of the window rose about six to
eight inches and a pair of male hands set a block to keep it from falling
closed.  The  hands,  now  unseen,  pushed  the  sheer  curtains  apart  to
allow what little breeze stirred this night entrance to his room. Naked,
he flopped down on his bed, his back arched as he stretched his arms
over his head.

Why I didn‟t crawl between the sheets and go to sleep will forever

remain  a  mystery.  I  never  aspired  to  be  a  peeping  Tommy.  I  might
watch a little gay porn now and again, but what poor deprived country
boy hadn‟t resorted to the joys of the Internet to get by until he could
find a real man? That didn‟t make  me a pervert. Unlike a  few of the
tricks I‟d had since arriving in lower Manhattan, I didn‟t even like to
have  sex  in  public  places.  But  in  the  blink  of  an  eye,  I  became  a
voyeur…

LSO

ENDRICKS

At The Southern Cross

The Back Stairs

Beneath Dark Stars

Between The Moon And The Deep Blue Sea

A Cat Named Hercules

December Promise

Double Deuce

Give Me One Night

A Hard Habit To Break

Highway Nights

In The Limelight

Netting Neptune

Night Moves

No One But You

Open Roads

Poseidon’s Pleasure

Seducing Light

Shine A Light

Small Town Boys

Sundown

Taming Triton

Tango In The Night

The Victory Series

What You Don’t Confess

Whispered Confessions

EYE OF

THE BEHOLDER

KC KENDRICKS

MBER

UILL

RESS

LLC

http://www.AmberQuill.com

EHOLDER

MBER

UILL

RESS

OOK

This book is a work of fiction.

All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the

author‟s imagination, or have been used fictitiously.

Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales,

or events is entirely coincidental.

Amber Quill Press, LLC

http://www.AmberQuill.com

No portion of this book may be transmitted or

reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in

writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief

excerpts used for the purposes of review.

ISBN 978-1-61124-243-0

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

When I was a boy, I dreamed of the big city, which, at the time,

was  a  little  speck  on  the  map  called  Fraser‟s  Crossing.  I  never
knew if a real Fraser had ever lived there. Maybe the town got its
name from someone drowning at the river ford. Or from a fugitive
hanged  at  the  old  crossroads  a  hundred  years  ago.  Yes,  I  had  an
overactive  imagination  as  a  youngster,  the  kind  that  made  the  old
men  shake  their  heads,  chuckle  softly,  then  mutter,  “That  Ben
won‟t amount to nothing.”

I fooled them all, even my grandfather.
These days, I‟m the one to look back and laugh. I‟d taken my

flights of fancy and love of computers and combined them into one
sweet way to make a living as a graphic artist. I‟d turned a few
posters for the small businesses in Fraser‟s Crossing into a job at

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

the Daily Mail in Harrisville. That got me noticed by the publisher
of the Reystown Herald and out of Arkansas, and my eyes were
opened. I set my sight, heart, mind and soul on New York City,
and I made it.

And I made the guy in the apartment across the hall the night

before he moved out.

And the sexy ticket seller at Loews downtown before they fired

him.

And the cute little blond twink at the gym twice before I

realized he was insatiable and might just cause my heart to
explode.

New York City was a blank screen, one I could design with

men,  and  I  tried  to  fill  all  the  empty  pixels  in  the  first  month.
Needless to say, I was just about worn out and I rather felt like my
wild  oats  were  all  sown.  It  was  time  for  a  real  dinner,  a  quiet
evening,  and  a  good  night‟s  sleep.  I  shut  down  my  computer,
straightened my desk and waved goodbye to the last person left in
the office on this Friday night. The boys over at my favorite haunt
on  Christopher  Street  would  have  to  get  by  without  me  tonight.
And maybe I‟d do better without them.

I made a foray to the local market on my way home and filled a

basket with enough goodies to get me through the weekend. If the
weatherman proved correct, I wouldn‟t want to leave my apartment
on Sunday, even to search for food. Once home, I fixed a plate
with several different kinds of cheese, olives, grapes and crackers,
and partnered it with a little white wine.

My apartment was small, maybe six hundred square feet,

having one big room and a bath. I‟d decided to forgo buying a lot
of useless furniture in favor of a decent bed and a flat screen
television. Suffice it to say the bed was central to my existence.

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

I carried my evening repast to my luxury “couch,” also known

as the side of the bed I didn‟t sleep on. My “dinette” set was a
scrounged balcony bistro set a couple in the next building put out
on the curb with a free tag taped on it. I carried it into the alley,
used a little spray paint, and had an instant dining room.

I settled back against the bed-lounger pillow to relax with an

old movie. At least I finished eating before the wine did me in. I
woke a few minutes before midnight without seeing the end of the
first movie or the beginning of the second.

Groaning like Granddad, I rolled off the bed and carried the

empty plate and wine glass to the sink to give them a quick wash. I
didn‟t have a lot of dishes, so I had to keep everything clean. Then
it was a quick trip to the head, toss my dirty clothes in the laundry
basket, and lights out. I flipped the comforter back and perched on
the edge of the mattress.

I‟d chosen to sleep on the side of the bed beside the one and

only  window  in  the  apartment.  I  might  have  made  a  different
decision  if  the  window  faced  east,  but  it  didn‟t.  I  peered  out
through  the  streaky  glass  at  the  glow  of  the  city  lights  and
wondered if I‟d someday make enough money to have a real view.
The  surprising,  and  scary,  answer  to  that  musing  was  I  actually
might. My employer recognized my talent.

I was just about to tuck my toes under the sheet when, for no

real reason, a movement on the other side of the narrow alley drew
my  attention.  I  yawned  as  the  lights  in  the  apartment  across  the
way and down a story went out. The lower half of the window rose
about  six  to  eight  inches  and  a  pair  of  male  hands  set  a  block  to
keep  it  from  falling  closed.  The  hands,  now  unseen,  pushed  the
sheer  curtains  apart  to  allow  what  little  breeze  stirred  this  night
entrance to his room. Naked, he flopped down on his bed, his back

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

arched as he stretched his arms over his head.

Why I didn‟t crawl between the sheets and go to sleep will

forever remain a mystery. I never aspired to be a peeping Tommy.
I  might  watch  a  little  gay  porn  now  and  again,  but  what  poor
deprived country boy hadn‟t resorted to the joys of the Internet to
get  by  until  he  could  find  a  real  man?  That  didn‟t  make  me  a
pervert. Unlike a few of the tricks I‟d had since arriving in lower
Manhattan,  I  didn‟t  even  like  to  have  sex  in  public  places.  But  in
the blink of an eye, I became a voyeur.

I suppose I was surprised to be able to see him so clearly, but I

didn‟t give it much thought. Hell, who could think? Not me. I
could only watch and ache as my cock swelled.

He was beautiful. His face was shrouded in shadow, but the

city  lights  revealed  his  lean,  toned  body  in  all  its  well-formed
splendor,  cast  in  liquid  silver.  He  stretched  a  second  time,  and  I
longed  to  trail  my  fingertips  over  the  long  lines  of  his  torso.  I
cupped my balls and settled them in a  more comfortable position,
then  stroked  my  shaft.  Arousal  teased  my  nerve  endings  before  it
shrieked through me as the man on the bed ran his hands over his
thighs.

The inside of my thighs prickled. I soothed the skin, rubbing

gently. The hair on my legs was rough under my palms. Were his
thighs dusted with hair, or did he have a darker pelt like mine? I
followed his path as he caressed the softer skin where leg blended
to hip, sliding my fingertips down the valley and in alongside my
sac. My dick throbbed, but until he stroked the dark rod that rested
on his pale abdomen, I couldn‟t give in to the temptation to reach
for relief.

I groaned as the man flipped over onto his belly and wiggled

his hips, the perfect muscular mounds of his buttocks alabaster in

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

the starlight. He spread his legs, knees well apart. How could he do
that to me?

Was that a movement in the shadows behind him? Heart

pounding, I froze, fearing my presence would be detected by this
second man, who eased between the man‟s open thighs, his sizable
boner pointing straight out at my phantom lover‟s ass.

I forgot how to breathe as the new man poured something from

a  container  into  the  palm  of  his  hand,  then  caressed  those  lovely
white globes, dipping low into private spaces. He gripped the first
man‟s  hips and pulled him  up to his knees. His tool rode  against
the man‟s ass, then ever so slowly vanished from view. I fisted my
cock  and  pumped,  rapidly  approaching  the  edge.  I  sucked  in  a
lungful of air and stopped, transfixed as they changed position.

They were on their knees now with the man of silver‟s back

pressed tightly to his impaler‟s chest. The top thrust into him with
an  easy  steady  rhythm.  I  strained  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the
bottom‟s  dick,  but  his  arm,  moving  in  rhythm  with  each  thrust,
blocked my sight. Silver‟s head dropped back. They kissed, a long,
passionate  melding  of  mouths.  I  stretched  out  my  legs  and  rolled
the velvety skin that covered my shaft over the hard inner core.

I was beyond them now. They filled my vision, but the heat

coiling  inside  my  belly  burned  too  hotly.  My  arm  met  their  pace
and  matched  it.  I  panted,  struggling  to  breathe  and  keep  from
surging  ahead  of  them.  They  faltered,  the  man  in  front  falling
forward onto all fours.

My balls tingled. The scent of my own musk rose from

between my sticky fingertips.

The top shoved his hips forward and hung there, spine arched

and head back. Deep inside me, the dam broke and I came, falling
into a sparkling, airless darkness. Hot, wet drops landed on my

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

belly and slid into the nest of hair at the base of my cock. I tried to
stay in the warm cocoon of pleasure, but already the rapid pulses
of orgasm faded. I blinked the sweat out of my eyes and focused
my blurry vision on the two men across the narrow alley.

They sprawled on the bed in a jumble of arms and legs. A

lighter flared, momentarily casting the face of the top into stark
golden light. The tip of a cigarette glowed orange and hot, then the
smoker perched on the edge of the mattress, his hands busy in the
shadows between his legs. I recognized the posture as the one
assumed for condom removal.

I‟d intruded, and that simple gesture that showed they cared

enough to protect each other said how much. I grabbed a tissue,
wiped off, and lay down. I tugged the sheet up and rolled over to
face away from the window. I hoped the next time they got down
and dirty they‟d keep the curtains closed and not tempt me again.

Liar.

* * *

The city held myriad attractions on Saturday mornings. The

mercury would probably rise above my comfort zone by mid-
afternoon, so I needed to get an early start. I‟d been here for only a
few weeks, but it had taken only a few days to learn the city streets
in August were brutal.

I had a list of all the touristy things to see in New York, and

while I‟d crossed off a few places, the list didn‟t look any shorter.
With the heat index being upwardly revised by the minute, I
decided it would be a good day to check out a museum—one with
lots of cool air conditioning. The server at the local caffeine dealer
was a good source of information, and we‟d gotten quite chatty in

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

the last couple of weeks. I sensed a budding friendship, but it was
the kind of thing that had to happen organically. Rushing it ruined
it. Anyway, Bobby would know what was happening where this
weekend.

Only he wasn‟t there. I stared at the new fellow behind the

counter with equal amounts of dismay, curiosity, and speculation.
My, my, but this guy had aged well. Not that he was old, just older
than my twenty-five years. He might have been all the way to
forty. I strolled up to the counter and glanced at his nametag. “Hi,
Andy. Are you new here?”

He smiled at me, and I pegged him for straight. Too bad.
“I am, and I‟m not. The owner is a friend, and he needed

someone to fill in for a few shifts. I volunteered. What can I get for
you?”

I ordered a large black coffee.
He smiled at me. “Coming right up…”
“Ben.”
Andy nodded, and I checked out his rear end as he turned away

to prepare my morning fix. Nice ass, but then New York is full of
nice butts. I accepted the steaming Styrofoam cup with murmured
thanks and a question.

“What‟s the „in‟ thing to see today, Andy?”
He asked how long I‟d be in the city, and I explained I was a

new resident. He nodded.

“So many things to see, so little time. I remember it well.” He

paused and tapped his fingers on the counter. “Some sort of
classical music at noon at Bryant Park or folk music at Strawberry
Fields.”

I slurped my coffee. “I was thinking more along the lines of

being inside and cool, not outside and sweating.”

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

“There‟s a 1940s film festival up at one of the Lincoln Square

theaters.”

That might actually work. I‟d hop a train and check it out. If it

didn‟t  have  any  appeal  when  I  got  there,  I  could  wander  over  to
Central  Park  and  people  watch  from  a  shady  spot.  Maybe
something tall,  sexy and  gay  that I could charm into  going Dutch
treat on dinner would saunter by. I lifted my cup and thanked Andy
for his help.

It was a fine Saturday—blue sky, warm breeze, sunshine—so I

decided to walk for a bit. Somewhere between 22nd Street and
Lincoln Square, I allowed the beautiful day to distract me. I ended
up at Bryant Park, on a shady bench, happy as a lark watching all
the people, listening to the violins, and breathing the rarified air of
the city.

Back home, they thought I was crazy to move to New York

City,  but  I  was  saner  than  any  of  them.  Everything  was  different
here—air,  water  and  especially  the  energy.  Sitting  on  that  bench
was  like  plugging  myself  into  a  battery  charger.  I  stayed  there
snapping  inspiration  pictures  with  my  cell  phone  until  my  butt
went numb and my stomach demanded food.

Besides, it had gotten August hot, and I was ready to go

hibernate in a cold, dark spot like my apartment. I could fix a
snack, take a nap, and be ready for some Saturday night action if I
decided to go back out when it cooled off.

But once I got home and stripped down to my underwear,

taking  a  shower  and  going  back  out  seemed  like  too  much  work.
I‟d  met  a  few  guys  who  maybe  one  day  I‟d  call  friends,  but  we
weren‟t that close yet. I didn‟t feel the burning need to spend every
Saturday  night  with  them,  hopping  from  bar  to  bar  and  club  to
club.

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

I wasn‟t a skilled chef, but I could cook well enough to survive.

I  delved  into  my  purchases  of  the  night  before  and  my  meager
pantry,  and  decided  to  fix  some  chicken  with  lemon  rice.  It  was
simple enough, quick and easy, just the way I liked a recipe to be.
It  also  made  enough  to  put  half  of  the  amount  in  the  fridge  for
tomorrow night, a win-win deal.

By the time my meal was ready, I‟d rubbed what remained of

the lemon I‟d juiced all over the countertops in the kitchen to make
the apartment smell fresh and clean. The citrus tang made me a
little homesick, but there was no going back to Arkansas for me.
My road led away from there and I would stay the course, even if I
were a little lonely these days.

Heck, I was a lot lonely. Domesticity was a clear indicator of

just how much.

I carried my plate to my comfy couch, a.k.a. bed, and surfed

the movie channels. Television had once been called the vast
wasteland and sometimes I believed it. Maybe it was time to phone
home and see if my brother would ship my DVD collection to me.
Having access to it again was worth taking a blast of shit from him
when he found my special collection of man-on-man action. He‟d
bitch, moan and groan, but he didn‟t fool me. He‟d watch every
disc before he boxed it up to ship to me. He wasn‟t gay, but he was
nosier than hell.

The sooner I called him, the better. If I had those flicks, maybe

I wouldn‟t obsess about what might be going on behind the closed
curtains across the narrow way.

Take a bite of chicken. Take a peek at the window. Chicken.

Window. Chicken. Window.

Enough was enough. I rearranged the lounge pillow so I

couldn‟t see outside and finished my dinner. Then I called my

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

brother and made a deal with the little rat bastard to ship my
movies and my music CDs. He didn‟t utter a peep about the music
collection, which I‟m sure meant he‟d already bootlegged half of
it, maybe even all.

It was good to talk with him and listen to him prattle on about

his current squeeze. I gave him the safe sex lecture—again—and
reminded him just because he was straight didn‟t mean he couldn‟t
get burned. I sent him a few of the pictures from Bryant Park and
almost had a heart attack when he said he might come visit me for
a week in October. Could I last a week without sex? I doubted it.

He sounded serious, but only time would tell. We ended the

call, and I gave in to obsession and gazed out my window at the
reflections of the sunset on the windows of the building across the
way.

Would those two lovers go at it again tonight? Would the

curtains be open? I slipped my hand under the waistband of my
briefs and squeezed my dick. Yeah, the little guy was definitely
interested in some exercise, but I wanted to hold out for a while.

Last night had to have been some sort of fluke. Perhaps the air

conditioning in their apartment had been on the fritz. Maybe they‟d
cooked fish for dinner and needed to air the place out. I‟m sure
they hadn‟t opened the curtains and the window merely for my
viewing pleasure.

And it had been a pleasure…one I wished to repeat. I shoved

the  back  supporter  against  the  wall  and  dragged  my  two  bed
pillows  under  my  knees  for  a  makeshift  recliner.  I  was  in  the
shadows  with  a  good  view.  I  knew  the  chances  of  seeing  them
again were slim, but I had to watch and wait, just to be sure. Didn‟t
I?

The hours passed as I stared idly at the television screen. I

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

learned  how  to  clean  gutters  and  downspouts,  grout  tile,  and  the
citified way to make a compost pile. I don‟t know where the home
improvement  channels  found  their  handymen,  but  it  wasn‟t
Arkansas.  Finally,  about  a  quarter  to  midnight,  the  lights  in  the
apartment  across  the  alley  flicked  on.  My  heart  fluttered  in  my
chest as goose bumps swept down my arms, raising each hair.

This was ridiculous. What was wrong with me that just seeing

the  lights  come  on  made  my  dick  swell?  Whatever  it  was,  I  was
willing  to  go  with  it  for  one  more  night.  I  turned  off  the  TV  and
flopped  against  the  pillows,  sliding  as  far  into  the  shadows  as  I
could and still have a good view. When the man shoved the sheer
curtains aside, I realized I was holding my breath.

He stepped away from the window, pulled his shirt over his

head,  and  rubbed  his  chest.  I  groaned  as  my  nips  tingled  and
peaked.  My  hard-on  completed  full  and  firm  in  a  few  throbbing
beats.  His  jeans  slid  off  his  hips  and  he  hooked  them  on  his  left
foot  and  kicked  them  up  to  his  hands.  He  folded  them  neatly  and
stepped out of sight. When he came back into view, he didn‟t have
them.

I stared at his beauty, at the incandescent halo he wore on his

dark hair. His face was clean-shaven, his lips full. I coveted him
for my own, but how would I get to him? More than the narrow
alley kept us apart.

The man turned away, his arm stretched out. Sweet heavens,

his lover was with him. The inside of my ass twitched. My balls
drew up. I wrapped my fingers around my rigid shaft and stroked a
few times to ease the burgeoning need and to ease the tension
building in my groin.

I rolled to the dark side of the bed and reached under the frame

to find my shoebox stash of toys. I knew my favorite butt plug by

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

feel and I grabbed it and the lube. I would feel pretty stupid,
getting all hot and bothered like this, if those two crawled into bed
and went to sleep.

They didn‟t.
My phantom lover, my man of moon-kissed silver, knelt on the

bed, laughing. The bright light winked out to be replaced by some
dimmer light deeper within their apartment. His lover, the golden-
haired intruder upon my fantasies, executed a spinning back flop
onto the bed. His hand fell upon the beautiful buttocks of our
shared lover, who merely wiggled his ass for more and received an
extra strike. Did his skin turn red and bear a handprint now? Did it
fuel his desire? I squirted a dollop of lube into my palm and dipped
the butt plug into it.

Horny as I was, it didn‟t take much to relax and insert the plug.

I needed to be fucked, and soon. I‟d not gone bottom since arriving
in the Big Apple—I had concerns—but I longed for the give and
take of it. I closed my eyes and worked the toy in and out a few
times, my concentration turned inward to enjoy the sensations. I let
it settle into place and looked out the window again.

The action was different tonight. The man who would live in

my  dreams  for  years  to  come  knelt  between  his  lover‟s  spread
thighs. Shoulders bent inward, hands hidden in shadow in front of
his genitals, I knew he was busy with a rubber. His head came up
and  he  lifted  the  other  man‟s  knees  to  his  shoulders.  Every
molecule  in  my  body  strained  to  see  his  cock  and  couldn‟t.  I
groaned,  disappointed.  Jilted.  Lips  parted,  I  watched  him  take  his
lover until there was no space between them.

I rubbed my thighs with sweaty palms. Tonight, I would wait

until they finished. I‟d commit it all to memory, then play it over
again in my mind while I jerked off. It would remain a movie I

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

could cue up and play for an audience of one.

I shivered as the air conditioning came on. The cool air teased

my damp skin, but I refused to be distracted. My phantom lover
went down into the arms of the man beneath him, hips pumping
frantically. I clenched my fists to keep from grabbing my cock and
catching up to him.

He stiffened and held himself pressed to his partner. The blood

pooled low in my groin pulsed painfully. The other man shoved at
him, pushing him back. He toppled to the bed and sprawled out,
spread eagle. The bottom worked his dick. His shoulders curled off
the bed. Both men lay still for a few minutes, then the second man
swiped his hand over his belly and then over the chest of my
fantasy lover.

They laughed and grabbed at each, rolling on the bed, to one

side, then the other, before separating and leaving the bed. Where
did they go? For a shower? Or a snack? A drink? The view through
the window revealed only the empty bed.

My body ached with the need for release. I fisted my rock-hard

prick and tried to  go slowly.  I lasted one  hard and  hurting  stroke.
My  ass  clenched  around  the  butt  plug  in  a  manic  dance  of  tiny
muscles.  The  orgasm  picked  me  up  and  shook  me  violently,
stealing  my  breath  as  my  vision  blurred  to  a  hazy  red.  For  a  split
second,  I  thought  I  was  a  dead  man,  that  my  heart  had  exploded,
then the glowing fog cleared. I lay panting, unable to move or even
think. Thank God, I was alive. Almost.

I liked sex, even with myself, but never did I want to climax

like that again.

Okay, I hoped I would, but not for a while. I wanted an

electrocardiogram first to make sure it wouldn‟t kill me. I risked
my sanity and looked out my window in time to see the room in

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

the brown brick building go dark. In the dim light of the city, I
watched them settle down on the bed for the night.

I staggered to the bathroom to freshen up. When I returned to

my lonely bed, I rolled onto my side, facing the window, and was
instantly asleep.

* * *

Thunder woke me at daybreak. Wonderful. Not only would it

be stinkin‟ hot today, the humidity would be three thousand
percent.

Even worse, I suddenly remembered I‟d forgotten to get coffee

filters yesterday, which meant I either had to get wet or go without
a  caffeine  fix.  Some  decisions  could  be  postponed.  I‟d  manage
well  enough  for  another  hour  or  so  before  desperation  set  in.  I
levered  up  on  an  elbow  and  gazed  out  the  rain-streaked  window.
The  storm  would  probably  blow  through  before  much  longer.  I
could see lighter sky around the edges of the clouds.

I‟d not planned to go out today, but now that I had to leave the

apartment for some Columbian, I might as well figure out
something to see…besides the man leaving the building across the
narrow alley. His familiar blond hair was about to get very wet.

My mystery man was alone. Was he still in bed or had he risen

to bestow a goodbye kiss upon his lover? It might be mean-spirited
of me, but I hoped he slept peacefully, not caring the blond had
left. The rain had let up. It was time to dash to the coffee shop for a
starter cup of joe and a pack of filters.

Ruminating wouldn‟t solve my immediate problem. I pulled on

a pair of scruffy jeans and an old T-shirt. I didn‟t need to dress
well just to get wet, come home, and get naked again.

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

Once upon a time, I‟d read a book about coincidences. The

premise of the book was that they didn‟t exist, that everything
happened for a pre-planned reason. Every action fine-tuned some
greater event. I admired the author for using eighty thousand words
to explain a twenty-four-word theory, but that was beside the point.
In front of me was evidence he might be correct.

My phantom lover, the man of liquid silver and shadow, he of

the perfectly muscled alabaster buttocks, exited his building even
as I stepped onto the sidewalk.

I might have stooped so low as to become a voyeur, but I was

not going to stalk this guy. I didn‟t care how fucking sexy his ass
was.

It was another moot point. He raised his hand above his head

and, like magic, a taxi appeared on our quiet street. He climbed in
and was gone without so much as a glance in my direction. I
lowered my head against the rain and trudged onward to the local
Duane Reade emporium.

When it rains, the streets of New York are full of umbrellas

creating a bobbing, weaving, arched mass that leaves one to ponder
how rain ever manages to make it to the sidewalk. It was time for
me to become one with them.

I selected a large umbrella with bright red and blue panels to

shelter  me.  It  was  big  enough  to  protect  a  companion,  too,  if  the
opportunity ever presented itself. Heck, I  was a  nice country boy.
I‟d even walk with a stranger for a while and keep the rain off him.
Building  good  karma  was  important,  especially  if  he  happened  to
be cute.

The nice clerk cut the tag off for me, and I continued on my

way to the coffee shop, somewhat drier and happier, and prepared
for rainy days on the golf course should I ever take up the game.

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

Andy was behind the coffee counter when I arrived. He greeted me
with a smile.

“Hi, Ben. Columbian again today?”
“Yep. A big one.” I returned his smile.
He busied himself pouring my order, while I grabbed a pack of

filters, a newspaper, and checked out the bagged ground coffee. I
might as well stock up since I was here. Andy set my cup on the
counter.

“If you like the brew we use behind the counter, I can sell you

some beans by bulk.”

I shook my head. “I don‟t have a grinder, but thanks.”
“Well, if you get one, don‟t forget the offer.”
And the outside world thinks New Yorkers are snobbish.
“That might be enough to convince me to get one. I‟ll let ya

know.” I paid for my order, and he bagged it.

“It‟s raining harder. Why don‟t you find a table and wait it out?

I‟ll join you, if you don‟t mind.”

I took a closer look at Mr. Andy. Yesterday I‟d pegged him for

straight, but now I wondered. Bi, maybe? I grinned.

“Toss in a blueberry muffin and you‟ve got a deal.”
He pointed at the table next to the front window. I took the

chair against the wall so he wouldn‟t have to climb over me if
another customer came in. Andy set two muffins on a napkin in the
middle of the table and eased down on the chair with a sigh. I
licked my lips to tease him.

“It‟s too early for you to sound that tired. Big night last night?”
“Ha. Ha. Actually, it was a bit of a night. A buddy crashed on

my sofa and woke me at three when he staggered into the
bathroom. Good thing the coffee here is strong, huh?”

I sipped my coffee. “It‟s good, too. How long will you be

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

helping out your friend here?”

Steam rose as Andy broke open a muffin. “I‟m not sure at this

point. I guess I can tell you. Bobby had a little accident skating
across the Brooklyn Bridge. I‟m given to understand his ankle is
the size of a pumpkin.”

“Oh, ouch.” I nibbled at my muffin for a few minutes. Andy

was sorta cute. I could invite him to a movie this afternoon and see
what he said. It was one sure way to find out which team he batted
for. “When do you get off, Andy?”

A smile played at his lips as he cocked his head to the left and

raised his eyebrow. “Usually about midnight every night, one way
or the other.”

I bet I looked stupid with my mouth hanging open. A wide grin

split his face, then he laughed, a low, happy sound that said he was
pleased to have rendered me speechless. Andy sobered, at least a
little.

“Are you attempting to ask me out?”
I gripped my coffee cup for dear life as I gathered my wits.

“I‟m not sure now. I think you might need to go home and get
some sleep.”

He leaned forward and brushed his knuckles across mine. “I

don‟t like to sleep alone, Ben.”

The smooth, silky way he said my name made me shiver, but

I‟m sure he intended that I would. Heart thudding unevenly in my
chest, I met his gaze.

“Me neither, Andy, and I happen to be free around midnight.” I

didn‟t add that if we went to my place I‟d make damn sure my
curtains were safety-pinned closed.

He leaned forward again. “Tell you what. Give me your cell

phone number and I‟ll call you when my shift is finally over.”

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

“That‟ll work. We can figure out what happens between now

and midnight then.”

Andy smiled and shoved the rest of his muffin in his mouth as

another customer hustled in out of the rain.

“Be right with you,” he called out as he stood. “I don‟t know

how long I‟ll be, but I‟ll call. Swear.”

“I need to head home to make myself all sexy, so you do what

you have to do.”

He flashed me a parting grin and slipped behind the counter,

then schmoozed with the new arrival. It was in my mind to wait a
while before leaving, but the rain suddenly eased. Within minutes,
the coffee shop was full of people. I cleared the little table and
made a strategic exit. I saw no point in trying to distract him from
his work just to say goodbye. A certain level of maturity was
called for in these situations, or so I told myself.

On the other hand, I had a hookup for today that had a lot of

potential. Andy was a friendly, charming fellow. Maybe I‟d end up
with a fuck buddy, which would be fine with me. What lonely
fellow on his own in the big, bad city couldn‟t use one of those
from time-to-time?

As predicted, the rain kicked the humidity up yet another notch.

Everything  from  the  streetlights  to  the  trees  to  building  canopies
dripped,  but  my  trusty  umbrella  kept  my  newspaper  dry.  The
apartment  was  stifling  when  I  opened  the  door,  but  then  the  air
conditioning cycled on. I toed off my shoes and settled at the table
to finish my almost cold coffee and leaf through the paper. If Andy
did call, I didn‟t want to spend the entire day in bed.

Unless, of course, he could get it up more times in an afternoon

than I was capable of doing. That would be a game changer, not to
mention it would impress the hell out of me.

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

The paper yielded a few possible activities. I circled them, put

on a fresh pot of coffee, and took a fast shower. It was almost
eleven o‟clock when Andy finally called. He wanted to dash home
for a shower and suggested we meet at the Port Authority Bus
Terminal on 42nd Street at one o‟clock.

There was a movie he wanted to see, his treat, then we could

get an early dinner, nothing fancy, my treat. After that, we‟d see
how the evening shaped up. It sounded like a perfect afternoon,
and I quickly agreed.

It didn‟t take long for me to get nervous. I liked Andy and I

didn‟t want to screw up a simple date, but what if he was the
clingy sort? I wasn‟t looking for forever, just a good time tonight.
If I got a different vibe from him, I‟d have to make my intentions
clear without hurting his feelings.

Nothing like getting ahead of myself. Jeez. And to keep from

doing it again, I decided to wear a white T-shirt and jeans. Simple,
yet sexy, with the message today was about fun.

Or maybe something else was already in the cards.
Andy greeted me with a kiss.

* * *

The brush of his lips against mine was so quick, so light, I got

only an impression of a soft, warm mouth. The kiss was the type of
greeting friends might share, but mischief shone brightly in his
whiskey-brown eyes. I licked my lips and scrambled to re-evaluate
what the hell I was doing. I looked him up and down.

“We‟ll work on your kissing technique later.”
Andy grinned. “You should see your face. Surprise you?”
“Not a bit,” I lied, smiling. “So here we are amid the hustle and

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

bustle. Where do we go first?”

He hooked a finger through one of my belt loops and tugged

me off balance. I fell into step beside him, our strides evenly
matched as we strolled through Times Square. Andy touched my
back, then let his hand drop.

“I had a brainstorm of what to do this afternoon to enjoy the

sunshine, now that we have it. There‟s a little deli a block over that
has great lunches. Let‟s go there, unless you have someplace else
in mind.”

The way his hip kept bumping mine, I‟d started to think about

lunch at his place, but real food would be better. “Sure. I‟m willing
and able.”

He snorted. “I just bet you are.”
We started horsing around, punching and pushing at each other.

Andy grabbed me and backed me against a brick wall. I licked my
lips hopefully. He paused, his mouth not more than two inches
from mine.

“You‟re too eager.”
I glanced down at the rather sizable bulge beneath his zipper

and raised my eyebrow at him. “Kiss me or move along, stud.”

His eyes widened, then he tilted his head and slanted his lips

across mine. The touch of his mouth to mine shot through me and
settled in my groin. My cock hardened in a wonderful rush that
stole my breath.

I meant to keep the kiss brief, but heat swept through me, even

as I tried to pull away. Like bands of steel, Andy‟s arms came
around me and held me to him. His tongue teased at my lips,
seeking entry. I broke off the kiss so I could gather my wits.

I cleared my throat three times before I could speak. “Wow.”
Andy licked his lips. “You taste good.” He looked down at the

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

front of my jeans. “Is that a four-star or a five-star wow?”

I narrowed my eyes at him and shoved my hand in my pocket

to adjust my hard-on to show better. My damn underwear had
everything constricted and lop-sided. It was uncomfortable, too.
“Try eight-star.”

“Perfect.” His mouth came down on mine, hard. I wrapped my

arms around him and gave him as good as I got.

Back and forth we went, tasting and testing in a mock battle on

a  field  where  no  one  lost.  There  was  no  pretense  in  him.  He  put
everything  in  his  kiss  for  me  to  find.  His  desire,  his  need,  and
hesitant  hope  mixed  with  mine  and  grew  until  suddenly  our  lips
gentled, softened, and a new conversation began.

My knees went weak as Andy slid his lips along my jaw line

and gooseflesh shivered across my backside. My cock ached, eager
to lead me to chances I knew I‟d never regret taking. His arms
tightened around me as his hoarse voice whispered in my ear, “I‟m
so hungry. Can‟t you hear my belly growling?”

I tilted my head so he could keep nibbling on my neck. “I

thought it was your dick making that noise.”

Andy laughed and thrust his pelvis to mine. “You know, you

might be right. C‟mon.”

He slapped his hands to the bricks on either side of my

shoulders and pushed off. I grabbed his arms and pulled him back
for another quick kiss, then levered my back off the wall. Andy
draped his arm around my waist as we continued on our way.

“I hope you don‟t mind, but I called the deli earlier. They

packed a picnic lunch for us.”

I didn‟t mind—much—but I hoped he wasn‟t the type to run

everyone‟s life for them. A take-charge man is one thing. A micro-
manager is something else entirely. I had my own ideas of how I

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

wanted  to  live  my  life,  and  I  expected  a  fifty-fifty  give  and  take
with a lover. Of course, we  weren‟t lovers and the  most probable
explanation  of  him  arranging  lunch  was  he  was  trying  to  impress
me on our first date. I was flattered.

“Sounds like fun provided you have a shady spot reserved in a

nice, cool park.”

“We‟ll have to stake out a claim to a small piece of real estate

when we get there.”

I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. It was nice to

know he had to figure out some things on the fly. He pointed at a
storefront, and we crossed the street, dodging a cab that came out
of nowhere and sped past us. He stumbled over the curb, and I
steadied him, which ended with him pinned between me and a tree
and us swapping spit again. I groaned in protest when he tried to
wiggle his way free.

“Oh, no, you don‟t,” I said against his lips. “My turn.” I thrust

my tongue into the heat of his mouth when he tried to speak. I
knew, with certainty, we‟d end this day naked and sweaty. Andy
protested a second time, and I let him go. He touched my cheek.

“Seriously, Ben, I need to eat. I can‟t live on air anymore, like I

did when I was your age.”

“Right. You‟re sooo old.” He had me curious now. I‟d pegged

him to be around forty and I wondered how close to a correct guess
I‟d come. “I‟m twenty-five. How old are you?”

“I‟m thirty-seven.”
“Wow. I thought you were older than that.”
Andy‟s mouth dropped open. “That just earned you a

spanking.”

Before I could reply, he wrapped his fingers around mine and

dragged me inside the deli. The man behind the counter greeted

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

him by name and turned to open the door to a walk-in refrigerator.
Without  a  word,  he  handed  Andy  an  insulated  cooler.  Andy
thanked  him,  draped  the  strap  over  his  shoulder,  and  ushered  me
out the door. I plucked at the bag and asked him what was in there,
but  he  refused  to  tell  me.  Instead,  he  said  we  had  to  hop  the  A-
train.

“I‟m not sure that‟s a clue, Andy. I‟m still a little fuzzy on the

subway, outside of the ones I take to work and back.”

He grinned as we went down the steps into a station. “It‟ll all

make sense soon, I promise. We‟re going to Fort Tryon Park. It‟s
at a higher elevation and you‟ll love the views.”

An hour later, we were perched on a shady knoll staring at the

Hudson  River  from  behind  a  screen  of  bushes,  sipping  red  wine
from  plastic  cups,  and  playing  “feed  me  a  grape.”  And  when  the
fruit  was  gone,  we  got  silly  with  the  carrot  sticks.  I  watched  him
give one a mock blowjob and gave him a round of applause.

I told him the story of how I‟d made my way to the Big City.

He seemed genuinely interested in my work, which pleased me and
appealed to what I considered to be my swelling ego. I had to lose
that before I went home to Arkansas for a visit or Granddad would
have me slopping the hogs to work it out of me.

While my “country boy” story bored me, Andy was city born

and bred. He talked of well-to-do parents and a misspent youth. He
spoke of museums and theaters, Times Square on New Year‟s Eve,
and mischief on Coney Island. I soaked it all up, even the serious
talk about our HIV status as gay men. We were both negative, but
a  cloak  of  sadness  hung  over  him  for  twenty  minutes  or  so  after
that  discussion. He‟d lost friends. But he  shook off his  memories
and  kissed  me  some  more.  The  shadows  had  grown  long  when
Andy shielded his eyes against the dipping sun.

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

“What do you say we go to your place and I give you a first-

hand demonstration of my technique on something a little bigger
than a carrot?” Andy glanced at me as if he wasn‟t sure I‟d agree.
It surprised me, so I gave him some reassurance.

I cupped the back of his head and pulled him in for a kiss. “I

like that idea. And just in case I forget to say it later, thank you for
a great afternoon.”

“You‟re welcome. Maybe we can come back here some

Sunday after the leaves change color.”

“Just remember, bribery always works on me.”
Andy chuckled and ran his hand along my thigh from knee to

groin. Even through a layer of denim, I felt the warmth of his palm.
“I‟ll make a note.”

I made notes, too, as I checked the train schedule on my

phone‟s web browser. “Let‟s get this mess stowed and get outta
here. If we don‟t shake a leg, we‟ll have to wait on a train.”

He looked over my shoulder at the screen of trees as his hand

dipped into my lap. “It‟ll be dark by the time we get back to your
place.”

By some unspoken agreement, neither of us had fondled the

goods,  and  I  was  about  nuts  from  the  teasing.  I  knew  without
having  to  discuss  it  our  mutual  caution  intentionally  left  the  door
open for the other to say “thanks, but no thanks” and call if a day
without  any  bruised  feelings.  I  sensed  the  subtle  movement  past
that  point.  I  patted  his  hand,  lying  so  close  to  my  balls,  yet  not
quite touching.

“Especially if we miss the train and have to hop a bus. Move it,

big boy.”

Andy rolled to his knees and opened the cooler. We bagged the

remnants of our picnic and found a trash receptacle on our way to

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

the station. The train rolled in on time and we slipped into an
empty car knowing we‟d have company soon enough.

From his perspective as a native New Yorker, Andy gave me

pointers about each station we went through. We hopped off at
14th Street and backtracked on foot to my place. I unlocked the
door and walked in ahead of him to turn on a light. Andy followed
and closed the door.

“Nice space. Very…minimalist.”
I motioned for him to sit at the table, while I went to the fridge.

“I kinda like it, but I can‟t decide if I want to stay in this
neighborhood or not. I‟d like a bit more quiet.” I held up a bottle of
beer. He nodded. “I didn‟t want to buy a lot of furniture I‟d have to
move to another place.”

Andy accepted the beer. “Thanks. I know what you mean.

Moving sucks. I‟ve been in my apartment for five years, even
though I‟m not all that happy with it, because I hate the idea of
packing everything.”

I sat across from him, and we tapped our bottles together and

drank. Now that we were here, I was in a hurry to put my hands on
him. My mouth watered for a taste of him. I wanted to know the
sounds he made when he came. He downed a couple of long
swallows of beer.

Very slowly, his gaze lifted to mine. The ruttish gleam in his

pretty eyes stole my breath and made my balls tingle. I licked my
lips and watched his pupils widen. Gazes locked, we finished our
drinks.

Whether he moved first or I did hardly mattered. We were

suddenly standing, arms around each other. My senses reeled as his
warm, beer-flavored lips parted under mine. Jolts of arousal struck
me, barely giving me time to draw a breath. Andy was heat and

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

energy in my arms, a flame ready to burn me if I‟d let it. And I
would.

Throughout the day his teasing kisses had become a familiar

craving.  Now  they  held  the  promise  of  pleasure  and  a  strange,
quivering hope for something I dared not consider in the darkness.
Such  longings  needed  daylight  and  a  clear  head.  I  grasped  the
bottom of his T-shirt, yanked the garment over his head, and cast it
aside.  His  actions  echoed  mine,  and  we  were  bare  chest  to  bare
chest. My palms caressed the long, lean lines of his back, learning
the shape of the bones beneath his smooth skin.

His hands tugged at the snap of my jeans. I made him pause

long  enough  for  both  of  us  to  kick  off  our  sneakers  and  shuffle
toward  the  waiting  bed.  I  reached  out  with  a  long  arm,  never
releasing  my  hold  on  him,  and  switched  off  the  lamp.  We  didn‟t
need it with the lights of the city keeping the shadows at bay.

I pushed his pants off his hips. He let them fall to the floor and

stepped  out  of  them.  I  perched  on  the  edge  of  the  mattress  and
tugged  mine  off.  Andy  went  to  his  knees  between  my  spread
thighs. I lifted my ass as he hooked his fingers under waistband of
my  hip-hugger  briefs  and  pulled  them  down.  My  cock  stood  hard
and firm  under his appreciative  gaze, begging for  his touch. Very
slowly,  Andy  stuck  out  his  tongue  and  licked  my  shaft,  head  to
balls, with its pointy tip.

I shivered at the light touch. The goose bumps fled as the heat

of his mouth enveloped me. Hot sweat broke out on my back and
under my arms. His hands caressed the inside of my thighs. Andy‟s
fingers found my dick and rolled the soft skin down over the hard
core. I buried my fingers in his hair and held him to me.

His velvety lips and slow stroke moved with deliberate

purpose. I watched the rise and fall of his dark head taking my rod

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

deep, then pulling back. His tongue swirled around the rim of the
head  and  he  took  my  cock  deep  again.  Over  and  over  he  did  that
until  my  legs  shook  and  the  heat  in  my  groin  threatened  to  break
free. I tugged on  his  hair to  stop him, only daring to breath  when
he stopped and released me.

“Get naked, Andy.” Confident he‟d follow, I scooted across the

bed, up to the pillows, and tossed the bed-lounger pillow to the
floor.

He straightened and deftly shucked out of his boxers, his cock

jutting at right angles to his torso and pointing right at me.

“You‟re very well hung, Mr. Andy.”
He fisted his cock and stroked it once. “Not my doing, but I‟ll

never complain.”

No, I supposed he wouldn‟t. His tool was a healthy eight

inches, thick and firm. My hole tightened at the sight, the small
internal muscles twitching in anticipation of something that wasn‟t
going to happen tonight. Andy grinned at me.

“You can fuck me, Ben, since you just puckered.”
“Smart ass. I just might since you offered.” I patted the

mattress beside me. “Now lie down.”

Andy didn‟t need a second invitation. He knelt on the bed,

crawled up to me, and flipped over on his back. I curled down and
around, eager to do to him what he‟d done to me.

His girth was a challenge, but I got the hang of it quickly

enough. He moaned as I went down over him, drenching him in
saliva, then licking him dry. With my thumb and middle finger, I
slid the outer skin over his steel rod.

A man‟s first pleasure is learned at his own hand. Andy showed

me where he liked fingers to be placed, and I moved my light grip.
He moaned and groaned, being quite verbal as to how well he liked

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

the combined caress of hand and mouth. I went lower to lick his
balls, feeling the hard nuts inside his tight sac.

I trailed my free hand along his hip and down the back of his

thigh. His leg lifted. He braced his foot on my shoulder, and I
stroked the tender, private places he revealed to me. His hips rose
and fell to meet me. Throaty moans rolled out of him as my fingers
applied a firmer pressure. My name was a breathless mantra on his
lips as he hit the threshold.

Andy cried out to me, a ragged sound I knew well, having

made a similar one many times. His shoulders lifted off the bed
and hot, salty semen hit the back of my throat. I stayed with him,
sucking him until he went limp and begged me to stop. His foot
dropped back to the mattress. I shimmied up to kiss his lips, eager
to sink into him. He opened his eyes and looked at me.

“Get the lube. Take your time, and I can get off again.”
I smacked his hip. “Aren‟t you just the greedy fellow? I‟ll see

what I can do to get you there again.”

And I would. I wanted him to enjoy tonight enough to come

back for more. Andy‟s hand patted my ass as I reached under the
bed for my box of supplies and found the bottle of lube and a
condom. I held up the foil packet.

“Do you want to do the honors?”
“No. I‟m pretty sure you know how do it yourself.”
I grinned and demonstrated my technique. He watched intently

as I suited up, rolling the condom to the base of my cock. I squirted
a  generous  glob  of  lube  into  his  belly  button  and  moved  to  kneel
between  his  spread  thighs.  His  legs  rose  and  he  braced  his  feet
against  my  shoulders  as  I  dipped  my  fingers  into  the  gel.  Andy‟s
gaze  never  left  mine  as  I  spread  the  lube  over  him  and  carefully
pressed a slick finger into him.

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As gently as possible, I massaged the tension out of the tight

ring of muscle, preparing it. He relaxed under my caress and grew
restless, lifting his butt and reaching for his prick. I spread the
remainder of the gel over my sheathed tool. Heart pounding, I
pressed my cock to sensitive flesh that yielded rapidly to me.

The muscles inside him performed a riotous dance around my

invading  dick.  My  own  flesh  echoed  the  manic  twitching,
remembering well the burning stretch that sent screaming pleasure
up  and  down  a  man‟s  spine  to  the  point  of  madness.  He  pressed
down against me and his body suddenly yielded to mine  as I held
him  impaled  under  me.  I  rode  the  waves  of  arousal,  unmoving,
until I was sure I wouldn‟t come on the first stroke.

I flexed my hips to his ass. Andy moaned. I started to move

inside  him,  setting  a  steady  rhythm,  one  designed  to  drive  him
crazy. His head thrashed back and forth on the pillows as his hand
moved  between  us.  I  came  down  on  him  and  found  his  lips,
thrusting  my  tongue  in  and  out  of  his  mouth  in  unison  with  my
driving  hips.  His  left  hand  held  my  arm  in  a  vise-like  grip  as  he
moaned into my mouth. I forced my lips off his.

“Andy, you gonna come again?” I needed to know. I rode the

edge of orgasm. Every nerve ending in my body clamored for
release.

His lips moved, but I had no idea what he said. The hand

trapped between our bellies moved faster. Andy cried out, a sharp
sound of profound release.

The scent of spent semen surrounded us. My abdominal

muscles clenched to the point of pain and the heat that coiled at the
base of my spine burst free. I fell into a sweet oblivion and emptied
myself into him and the sparkling darkness that claimed me.

I drifted, deliciously exhausted. Limp. Andy groaned as his

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legs  slid  down  along  my  sides.  I  tried  to  lever  up  on  my  elbows,
but  my  bones  had  turned  to  mush.  He  groaned  again,  the  sound
tinged  with  discomfort,  or  maybe  distress.  I  couldn‟t  tell  which,
but  I  knew  he  needed  me  to  move  off  him.  I  held  the  base  of  the
condom  and  pulled  out  as  gently  as  possible.  Even  with  my  care,
he  jumped  as  the  head  slipped  out.  I  flipped  over  on  my  back
beside him.

“Are you okay?”
“Hmm. Maybe.”
I kissed his shoulder and rolled off the bed. “How about a hot

shower followed by a cold drink? Will that help?”

“More than you know.” He fought his way into a sitting

position, making a bunch of moaning and groaning noises all the
way until his feet touched the floor. I decided he was just a verbal
person and all that noise didn‟t mean he was sore. And the big grin
on his face was a dead giveaway I was right.

“I‟ll start the shower.” I ducked into my tiny bathroom and

peeled off the rubber.

We‟d fucked and it had been great. Now what?
It didn‟t take long for the hot water to get through the pipe. I

turned the knob and stepped under the spray. Andy stepped in
behind me and tucked the shower curtain in place. His arms came
around my waist.

“Thank you for that, Ben.” His cheek was against my shoulder.
“No, thank you. I don‟t know if it‟s too soon to say this, but I‟d

like it if you spent the night.”

Andy hugged me. “And thank you again. I‟d really appreciate

crashing here instead of stumbling my way home at midnight.”

I picked up the washrag, lathered it up and handed it to him.

“I‟ve got some cheese, crackers, pickles, fruit and stuff if you‟re

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

hungry.”

He handed me the cloth. “Sounds good to me. Let me rinse and

I‟ll go start getting everything out of the fridge.”

We shuffled around and, once soap-free, he climbed out and

dried off. I washed the essentials, then tidied the bathroom before I
joined  him  in  the  kitchen.  Being  side-by-side  with  him,  cutting
cheese  cubes,  felt  totally  natural.  I  wondered  if  he  felt  it,  too, but
didn‟t ask. There was plenty of time to turn foolish over this man.
Luckily,  Andy  shared  my fondness  for sharp Cheddar and  Pepper
Jack—no fancy designer cheeses for him either.

We took our plates and sodas to the bed. I gave him the side of

the mattress I usually slept on.

I glanced across the narrow alley at the dark window. It was

almost midnight. Would my phantom of liquid silver appear
tonight? The light in that other bedroom came on. I draped my arm
over Andy‟s shoulder. He flashed me a questioning look. I grinned
at him.

“I forgot to tell you I sometimes have some special

entertainment on tap.”

“Huh?”
I pointed. “See that window one story down?”
Andy leaned back, then forward. “Holy shit. Are they really

going…holy shit.” He stared, mouth slightly open, as the lovers
wrestled on the bed. “Forget the cheese and crackers. Where‟s the
popcorn?”

I set my plate aside. “I‟ll have to get some. This is the… Holy

shit.” I paused as the dark-haired man pulled the blond across his
lap and smacked his bare buttocks.

Andy coughed. “Does this go on every night?”
“I don‟t know. I just got wise to it two nights ago. I shudder…”

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

I paused as the spanking continued for a second strike. “I wonder
how much I‟ve missed in the last month.”

The blond rolled to his knees and faced his lover. His head

lowered over the man‟s lap. Andy moaned and scrunched down. I
wiggled closer to him.

“I hope no one tells them to close the curtains.”
“You and me both. Shh. I‟m taking notes.”
We watched, transfixed, as the lovers sprawled across the bed.

Where before they‟d switched off the lamps, tonight they remained
on. They rolled as one, lips locked, strong arms holding each other,
legs entwined. Hands stroked intimately. Backs arched.

I reached down and settled my genitals into a more comfortable

position. “I‟m getting hard again.”

“What do you mean „getting hard‟? I‟m there.”
I snorted. “Bullshit. You‟ve gotten off twice already.”
“Who said I couldn‟t get off a third time? That probably won‟t

happen, but my dick doesn‟t realize its limitations.”

I took a swig of my cola and handed it to him. He took a sip

and handed it back. The lovers had separated, only to have the
blond turn to lie with his feet on the pillows. My cock throbbed as
they started to suck each other. Andy‟s foot tapped mine.

“We‟ll do that next.”
“What? You think we should do what they do?”
“Oh. Yeah.” Andy squirmed as the blond finished.
The dark-haired man, he of the silver moonlight and sculpted

buttocks, rolled his lover onto his belly and reached for a condom.
Andy‟s hand found my rigid shaft and stroked me slowly. The man
across the way took his lover, sinking deep. Andy matched his
rhythm, his fingers applying a light pressure on my dick.

I stared, watching the lovers fuck, as Andy‟s easy caress drove

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

me straight to the top. I forgot to breathe. I couldn‟t think. The man
thrust faster as his lover hung before him. The orgasm raced to
meet me, and I couldn‟t stop it. I cried out his name, the only word
I could form. Andy didn‟t falter even as those other lovers did,
collapsing on the bed in a heap.

I came in a hot burst that spattered pearl drops over both of us.

Andy released me with a kiss. I clung to his lips as long as I could
as the blood pounded in my ears. When I crashed back down to
earth, sated and limp, Andy got a tissue and wiped us off. Across
the alley, the room went dark.

Thank God. This voyeur stuff was hard on a man‟s heart.
Andy patted my damp thigh. “I‟ll get us a refill on the soda and

then we can get some sleep.”

“Good idea. Thanks.”
I fluffed the pillows and listened to him move around my

apartment. It was kinda nice that he seemed so comfortable here. I
flipped the sheet over him when he got back in bed and gratefully
took a drink of the cold liquid. Andy set the empty glass on the
floor. We settled face-to-face in the middle of the bed.

“Today was great, Ben.”
“I think so, too. We shouldn‟t get all stupid and rush things,

you know.”

Andy touched my cheek. “I hear ya, just don‟t try to deny

there‟s not something more than a hook-up for sex going on here.”

“I wouldn‟t presume to deny it, but I don‟t even know your last

name.”

“Madison. And you?”
“Hardin. Since we‟ve completed our introductions, how about

dinner tomorrow night?”

Andy stroked my side from my hip to my armpit. “I‟d say it

ENDRICKS

KC  Kendricks  makes  her  home  in  Maryland  with  her  partner  of
twenty  years.  Living  in  a  rural  area,  KC  enjoys  most  outdoor
activities  except  those  that  require  snow.  In  warm  weather  KC
might  be  found  walking  the  dog,  biking  on  the  C&O  Canal
towpath, planting delicacies for the deer, playing in the creek with
the youngest generation of her cousins, or lazing on the patio with
a Kindle reader or a laptop.

An  administrative  assistant  by  day,  and  best-selling  author  by
night, Kendricks‟ is a 2008 Amber Heat Wave Winner. Her work
has  also  been  nominated  for  a  CAPA  from  The  Romance  Studio,
the  Elisa  Rolle  LGBT  Rainbow  Award,  and  Best  GLBT  Story  at
Love  Romance  Café.  Her  contemporary  gay  romances  celebrate
love and hope for mature readers.

For  more  information  about  KC,  please  visit  her  website  at
http://www.kckendricks.com,  and  her  personal  blog,  Between  the
Keys, at http://kckendricks.blogspot.com.

* * *

Don’t miss Highway Nights

by KC Kendricks,

available at AmberAllure.com!

Garrett  Webb  has  a  five-point  plan  for  starting  his  own  business.
To  keep  it  on  track,  he  takes  a  second  job  and  settles  into  the
evening  delivery  run  between  Owensville  and  Mt.  Franklin.  The

solitude  of  being  on  the  road  clears  his  head  and  enables  him  to
chart a better future for himself. When a foggy night sends him to
the safety of The Downshift Diner and its owner, Oliver Sanderson,
that future takes an unforeseen turn.

Oliver  Sanderson  enjoys  a  quiet  life  along  the  lonely  stretch  of
highway  that’s  home  to his  diner.  The  road  brings all  manner  of
interesting souls to his door. When Garrett  Webb steps out of the
fog  seeking  shelter,  his  openness  and  honestly  draws  Oliver’s
interest. He’s ready to take the next step, but needs to be cautious.
Trouble is coming to the diner, and Oliver wants Garrett clear of
it.

Good  intentions  can’t  hold  out  against  their  budding  attraction.
Garrett makes the diner a regular stop during his nightly run, and
the  men get  better acquainted. But Garrett’s past isn’t done  with
him.  In  a  single  heart-stopping  moment,  Garrett  is  forced  to  a
decision  that  risks  Oliver’s  life—one  that  could  end  forever  their
highway nights.

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