DOMES AND TEAPOTS
Jack Scribe
__________________________
Chapter
2, Conflict of Interest
It
was 7:30 a.m. on a dreary, overcast, Friday morning at the Starbucks at 16th
and K. Dex had just ordered a double
cappuccino and patiently waited for his briefing contact to arrive. He smiled
and felt pleased that the meeting with Kyle the previous night had gone so
well. He contemplated that they were both beckoned to early morning meetings
but for different reasons.
Dex
scanned the front page of the Washington Post and savored some of Seattle’s
finest while the baristas produced the broad variety of caffeine-laden beverage
orders for the restless customers at the counter. The location commanded a
view of the White House and was close to all of the prosperous K Street legal
and lobbying firms; neither factor hindered business at this popular coffee
house. After the lawyers and lobbyists left to be with their fellow barrister
sharks and professional arm-twisters in the many nearby paneled offices, the
coffee-sipping population shifted to a continual flow of tourists. Tees and
sneakers replaced pin stripes and tassel loafers.
He
slightly shifted his eyes and saw that ‘Bingo’ was in the express line for
regular coffee. Because of the sensitivity and a thin legal line of propriety
concerning his covert work, Dex was not privy to Bingo’s real name. Bingo
was an FBI agent from headquarters to whom Dex reported and they met weekly
at the Starbucks to trade information. This early morning rendezvous had been
part of his routine for almost a year.
Since
joining the FBI three years earlier, Dex had moved from basic, junior agent
paper-shuffling to his current plum assignment: an undercover plant in the
lobbying offices of Biggs and Dasch. He was proud that he was part of the
team that had corralled Sid Abraham’s unethical and illegal papering of money
around the capitol. The FBI was now reaching out for those who knowingly were
recipients of those tainted dollars. Without missing a beat, Dex had accepted
the marching orders to be part of the expanding investigation and undercover
work. Bingo passed on that their superiors were very pleased with Dex’s work
but wanted to ‘follow the money’.
Influence
peddling had become a real growth industry in Washington, D.C. It was a challenge
to separate the good guys from the bad, the ambitious from the greedy and
the idealistic dreamers from the cynical power grabbers.
“Good
morning,” Bingo said while placing the coffee cup and the blueberry muffin
on the table. A manila envelope joined the coffee and muffin before he sat
down. To the casual observer, Bingo was another white-collar, lower-level
executive in his late 40’s. Everything about Bingo was a carefully choreographed
exercise in genericism: the raincoat partially covered his dark suit, white
shirt and maroon tie. People would wrongly assume that the younger, handsome,
Nordstrom-dressed man was the boss.
“Hey,
’morning yourself.” Dex laid down his paper and placed it over the manila
envelope. It was S.O.P. that his instructions for the next week were inside
the thick envelope. He smiled and extended his hand for a shake. ‘Bingo must
really like his mashed potatoes,’ Dex thought, observing the man’s fleshy
jowls and double chin that expanded with the forced smile. ‘Prolly the wife,
2.5 kids and the stress of making monthly mortgage payments don’t help,’ he
mused.
“So
you met up with the subject at that queer bar?” Bingo asked with unmasked
distain.
“Yep,
made contact and a date.” Dex’s grin was forced. “We’re getting together for
dinner next week.” Dex was quite proud that he was able to make a date with
Kyle Blakesfield without any complications. He was also aware that Bingo didn’t
approve of any agent frequenting a gay bar even if it was on official business.
‘This asshole would really be upset if he knew I was enjoying going to the
bars on government money,’ he thought. Dex was uncomfortable being in the
closet and was grappling with a way to come out of his armoire.
“The
boss wanted to make sure that you’re really okay doing this gay thing? He’s
aware that you’re in virgin territory.”
“Well,
I’m not a virgin…although the territory is different for an agent,” Dex replied
with a sardonic chuckle. “Let the boss know that there’s no problem. Um, the
subject seems like a nice guy and doesn’t appear to be the violent, dominant
type. I won’t let it get out of control and I’m prepared to take a relationship
to a level that will seem genuine without getting physical.” Dex’s youthful
good looks, charisma and in-shape physique had made him an ideal candidate
for special training. He had been taught how to manipulate the ‘gaydar’ screen
and send out accepting vibes to gay men who were under surveillance. What the FBI didn’t know was that Dex had privately
acknowledged his homosexuality when he was in law school at Georgetown and
was ‘out’ to his folks.
“It’s
important to find out what the subject’s big boss really knows about these
funds. Just keep your preppy butt covered…in more ways than one,” Bingo said
with a snide, sneering laugh. “I don’t want to see any Vaseline purchases
on your expense report.”
“Don’t
worry. I’ll make sure that his big, bad, gay dick doesn’t find its way into
my backside.” Dex continued to smile as he considered his immediate boss’s
homophobic, Neanderthal thinking. ‘Christ,’ he thought, ‘Bingo doesn’t even
know how yesterday Vaseline is. I can imagine how dull his sex life must be
at home. Prolly the only thing he knows about oral is brushing teeth.’ He
also considered the idea of becoming intimate with Kyle…if the subject wasn’t
involved in any illegalities…down the road.
“Let’s
talk about the project. This whole homo business doesn’t sit well with me
but the big boss decided that this was the route to go and you were the man
to pull it off.”
“Pull
it off is hardly what I have in mind,” Dex replied as he subtly moved a clinched
fist up and down in short strokes. “And, as I recall, wasn’t our esteemed
founder a drag queen?” Dex grinned broadly and shrugged. He loved making his
homophobic supervisor uncomfortable.
“Okay, enough of the funny stuff.” Bingo leaned
back, rolled his eyes and continued, “You and the subject are going out to
dinner next Wednesday?”
“Yep.
I figure that some good food and generous portions of wine should loosen up
his mind to talk about his office and related stuff with the Abraham money.
I’ll review the homework over the weekend and bring a recording device to
dinner. You’ll have the tape and my analysis for next week’s meeting.”
“Good.
We can exchange everything then. In the packet you’ll also note that there’s
a list of some additional files we need from your office. It will help us
determine how to word another search and seizure warrant from a federal judge.
We’re sure that some of the other partners are spreading bad money around
town and need to confirm what’s happening. Abraham isn’t the only one going
down at your shop.”
“No
problem. I’ll spend a little extra time after working hours tonight, review
the files and email them to my Yahoo account.” The routine established was
for Dex to run everything through a fictitious Yahoo account and then forward
the material to another Yahoo account monitored by Bingo.
“I
still can’t believe that they’ve never installed any security software to
monitor employee emails,” Bingo said after taking a large bite of his muffin.
“Yep, pretty stupid. You’ll have the files tomorrow
night.” Dex smiled at the sight of muffin crumbs stuck to Bingo’s chin.
“Fair
enough. I’m going to grab my coffee and get out of here. Tate, I’m serious
when I tell you that you’re getting results where it counts. In this case,
I don’t think I want to know how you’re going to get them,” Bingo said with
a lewd chuckle. “Adios, amigo.” Bingo got up, nodded and left the table with
his coffee.
“Adios.”
He purposely didn’t add ‘amigo’ to the farewell. As Dex watched his clandestine
contact depart to head over to the J. Edgar Hoover building on Pennsylvania
Avenue, he decided, ‘Time to update my resume. I’m tired of living a lie.’
When he had applied for a training position with the FBI after law school,
Dex was successfully burrowed deep in a self-imposed closet. As far as the
bureau was concerned, he was just an average, ‘A-type’ hetero bachelor.
*****
Dex
was relieved that it had been so easy to get into the targeted files early
Friday evening. No one in the office gave his extra hours at the start of
a weekend a second thought. The partners of Biggs and Dasch considered Dexter
Tate a bright, aggressive achiever who got results. ‘After this Abraham mess,’
he considered, ‘these arrogant assholes are really stupid to keep the incriminating
files in the office.’
His
awareness perked up when he scanned one document that mentioned a large sum
of cash being delivered to a Louisiana Congressman – Emmanuel Lincoln from
Shreveport – in the next week. The cash, wrapped in plastic, would be inserted
into the cavity of a large salmon chilled in an ice chest as part of a FedEx
shipment. ‘Fuck,’ he thought, ‘that fish must be pretty big to handle a hundred
grand in its stomach. Maybe the congressman could consult with Emil Lagasse
to come up with a new recipe for stuffed salmon?’
The
remainder of the weekend progressed routinely: Saturday workout and Step class
at The Sports Club/LA on 22nd and M Street, errands, emails and
a date to go to the movies that evening. On Sunday, Dex never missed the 10:30
a.m. service at Grace Church, the Episcopal edifice in Georgetown. He was
always impressed with the young, attractive men in the congregation and Fellowship
hour usually produced a few names for a social follow up.
Later
that evening, he reviewed and tweaked his resume to highlight his goals in
seeking security work. Dex found the two business cards he had collected over
the past six months and emailed the contacts his resume. The cover letter
expressed interest to discuss career opportunities at the earliest convenient
time. ‘This time,’ he decided, ‘I’m going to let them know up front my sexual
orientation.’
*****
Around
11:00 a.m., Monday, after getting his morning ‘to do’s’ cleaned up for the
senior lobbyists, Dex called Kyle’s office number. A vision of Kyle’s blond
hair, blue eyes and radiant smile floated in his head while the phone rang.
~~~
“Blakesfield. How may I help you?”
“Well,
um, aside from sitting on my face, I was wondering if you’re still up for
dinner,” Dex said with a low chuckle.
~~~
“Good morning to you too, Mr. Tate. I’ve hardly had a moment go by without
thinking about our brief meeting or dinner this Wednesday.”
“Great.
Did I hear hardly or hard?” Without missing a beat, he continued, “Sorry for
the silly joke. Promise I’ll grow up. I was thinking about your suggestion
of going to the Indian brasserie. I’ve been there. The chow’s good and they
have a decent wine list.”
~~~
“Yeah, Heritage India on Connecticut Avenue. You still want to meet at JR’s
for drinks first?”
“How
about JR’s at 6:30 p.m. and I’ll make reservations at the restaurant for 7:30
p.m.?”
~~~
“Got it in the Blackberry as a definite. Dex, I really do look forward to
knowing you better. You seem like a good guy and that’s a rare commodity in
this town.”
“Ditto.
I figure that the good guys should stick together. Listen, I’m getting a little
backed up at my desk. As the junior guy, I’m in the middle of a lot of paper
shuffling. If I don’t hear from you, see ya Wednesday at JR’s?”
~~~
“Casual dress? I love to shed the grown up clothes after work.”
“Absolutely.
I’ll probably wear khakis and a shirt.”
~~~
“Got it. ’Til then, bye.”
“Bye,
Kyle.” Dex hung up the phone and paused with a feeling of satisfaction.
‘Time
to attack the stack of stuff in the in-box,’ he decided. ‘Wonder whose arm
we’re twisting, today?’ He was also curious about how the salmon was swimming
– up stream via a 757 – to the Congressman’s spawning bed.
*****
Wednesday
drinks and dinner went like clockwork. Between cocktails, wine and a tasting
of Northern Indian cooking, each man found out the ‘Cliffs Notes’ version
of the other’s life. Without noticeable pressure, Dex extracted information
about Kyle’s job, his immediate boss, and the famous Chicago Congresswoman.
Dex
was more than satisfied that Kyle was clueless of any malfeasance on the part
of Mandy Burns. He would report to Bingo that all roads led to the Chicago
treasurer’s blindly and innocently accepting PAC funds. Nothing more. Dex
was anxious to be rid of Kyle as a subject so he could explore a personal
relationship.
They
were finishing the second bottle of a light-bodied Cote du Rhone that seemed
to match the flavors of the lamb korma. The lamb was extremely tender and the sauce had a great
combination of cashews and spices. Dex was particularly pleased with the hummus made with roasted garlic
and black beans. ‘The tandoori-smoked mozzarella married well with the other
flavors,’ he judged.
“Buddy,
between the Indian tapas with names I can’t pronounce, the curry and the ‘fab’
wine, I need to take a pause. I need to excuse myself and take a break.” Kyle
smiled and stood up.
“The
men’s room is back by the kitchen.” Dex watched Kyle walk away. He judged
that his dinner guest was an athlete based on his graceful movements and trim
form.
Dex
reached over and grabbed his windbreaker jacket. In a voice directed to the
jacket he said, “End of meeting with subject.” He put his hand in the pocket
and switched off the recorder. After placing the jacket back on the chair,
he raised his arm to flag down the server. When Dex established eye contact
with the server, he touched his finger and thumb together a couple of times
and mouthed, “check”. The server nodded and brought over the check in a folder.
‘Shit,’
he thought, reviewing the bill, ‘the wine was more than the food. Well, to
hell with it.” Dex pulled out his company American Express card, placed it
in the check folder and pushed the folder to a corner of the table. ‘Bingo
can deal with the reimbursement.’
“What’s
my half of the damages?” asked Kyle as he returned to the table and sat down.
“Consider
this a treat on me. We discussed five minutes of business so it’s an official
expense. Part of the game in this town is to figure out how many dinners you
can write off.” Dex smiled as the server retrieved the check.
“You
sure? I mean, I won’t turn down a free dinner…especially when it’s with a
cute guy…if you can really write it off.”
“Yep,
no strings attached.”
“What
if I want to attach some strings?” Kyle asked, his focus locking onto Dex.
“Um,
strings? What have you got in mind?” Dex felt as though he was being sucked
into an ethereal level through Kyle’s engaging, pale blue eyes.
“Two
healthy, young, like-minded adult males could certainly find some common ground.
Unfortunately, a roommate occupies my ‘common ground’. But, ah, I wouldn’t
turn down an invitation to continue our conversation somewhere else.” Kyle
smiled slightly and raised his eyebrows.
“You
mean that if I offered you an invitation to join me at my apartment, you wouldn’t
turn it down?” Dex asked in a low voice.
“If
you doubt my sincerity, you could reach down to my crotch, very discretely,
and find out how interested I am.” Without being too obvious, Kyle reached
down to adjust himself while licking his lips.
“Well,
there it is. I’m being seduced by this hot journalist who won’t take ‘no’
for an answer. Looks like I have no choice but to invite you home.” Dex rubbed
the palms of his hands together before taking one of Kyle’s hands in his.
To the surrounding diners, it would appear nothing more than two men reaching
agreement on a topic. Dex felt the warmth and energy radiate from Kyle’s hand
as he held it. He squeezed the hand and nodded simultaneously. “Let me sign
the tab and we’ll boogie.” The server returned with the credit card and the
receipts. Dex added a generous tip, signed the ticket, retrieved his card
and took a copy of the receipt.
“I
walked over here tonight. Have we got far to go?” Kyle stood up and waited
for Dex to join him.
“Walked,
too. I live over on P near 21st Street. The brick apartment building.”
“Well,
buddy, sounds like we’re neighbors,” Kyle said. “I live at 2105 P Street and
you must be in the big building across the street from me. Right?”
“2108.
Yep, we’re neighbors. Let’s go and I’ll let you borrow some sugar.” Dex laughed
and motioned Kyle to leave first. He grabbed the windbreaker jacket and held
it in his hand. ‘Christ,’ he thought, ‘this is too convenient.’
“Where
do you keep your sugar?” Kyle asked with a grin.
“In
the closet.” Dex knew that Kyle didn’t have the foggiest idea what he was
talking about when Kyle turned and gave him a quizzical look.
“Closet?”
“It’s a long story. I’m kind of in the closet
at work. I’ll tell you tomorrow.” ‘Shit,’ Dex thought, ‘he doesn’t know the
half of it.’ He imagined what the reaction at the Bureau would be if they
knew he loved everything associated with the male anatomy, and Kyle’s especially.
“Tomorrow?
Do I need anything?”
“I’ve
got everything covered…including an unused toothbrush.” Knowing where their
mouths would probably travel soon, he doubted a new toothbrush was needed.
“Always
great to know we’ve got oral hygiene covered.”
“Touché.”
Dex opened the front door and invited Kyle to walk on into the cool night
air. ‘This is something I won’t report to Bingo,’ Dex thought as the two men
walked towards Dupont Circle.
Within
ten minutes they were in the foyer of the modest, 60’s-vintage apartment building.
Dex unlocked the security front door to the building and allowed Kyle to enter.
They continued past the mailroom and stopped at the elevators.
“I’m
up on 10,” Dex said as he punched the elevator button. Doors parted and they
entered the cab. After hitting the ‘10’ button, he turned to Kyle and continued,
“I’m going to enjoy having you as a guest.” He gently pulled Kyle towards
him and softly touched Kyle’s lips with his. There was no resistance and Dex
decided to allow his tongue to explore the new territory.
“Mmmm,”
Kyle growled. He wrapped his hands around Dex’s waist and pressed his crotch
closer. While they kissed, Kyle rotated his tenting pants into Dex’s same
condition.
A
bell rang and Dex extracted himself. “We’re here. No reason to give the neighbors
a show.” The doors parted and Dex grabbed Kyle’s hand. He felt confident that
no one would be in the hallway. Dex winked at Kyle and they walked down to
the end. “Welcome to my home.” Dex took out his key, unlocked the door and
opened it. “Marche, monsieur.”
“Oui,” Kyle
replied with a snicker. “That’s basically most of the French I know.” He walked
in and turned as the door closed. Kyle opened his arms and said, “I kinda
liked what we were doing on the elevator.”
“I
did, too.” Dex moved forward, reassumed his former position and molded into
Kyle’s standing form. He gave Kyle a warm, wet kiss before he said, “But I
got some business to attend to before I pee in my pants.” He took Kyle’s hand
and they walked through the small living room to a short hallway. Dex casually
tossed his jacket on a living room chair as he passed by. “Here’s my bedroom.
Why don’t you go in and get comfortable while I take a whiz.”
“Comfortable?
As in…”
“Butt
naked. I’ve been fantasizing about your hunky, hot body since we met.” Dex
winked and entered the next doorway. He turned on the bathroom light, walked
over to the commode and unzipped his pants as he closed the door.
Kyle
looked around the bedroom and noticed that Dex was either a neat freak or
had planned for company this evening. The queen-size bed was made and the
bedding taut. Kyle unbuttoned his shirt and looked around the room that was
illuminated only by a low-wattage desk lamp. He decided that they both shared
the same decorator: Ikea. ‘Probably during the big summer markdown sales,’
he decided Kyle smiled when he saw a couple of framed posters from London’s
Tate Modern.
He
took off his shirt and laid it on the desk chair. It was hard not to observe
that all the books were lined up by size, the papers were neatly organized
in a stack and there was no visible dust. Next to come off was the tee and
it hastily joined the shirt. Kyle was toeing off his shoes when he heard Dex
enter the room.
“Welcome
to my little apartment. It is what it is and just fine for the time being.”
Dex started to unbutton his shirt. “Don’t let me interrupt your progress.
If the bottom-half is as impressive as what I see, buddy, I’m going to be
a happy camper.”
“You
gotta catch up with me, Dex. I’m a born exhibitionist an’ us Chicagoans ‘drop
trou’ at the slightest provocation.” Kyle unbuckled the belt and unclasped
the pants. With one fast move the zipper moved down and the pants slid down
into a puddle around Kyle’s feet, leaving him with nothing on but a pair of
gray, low-cut CK briefs. He stepped out of the khakis and reached down to
pick them up.
“Well,
I guess that answers the question about whether it’s boxers or briefs,” Dex
said with a laugh. He tossed his shirt aside and got out of his pants in fast
fashion.
“I’m
versatile,” Kyle said. “Tonight it’s briefs…tomorrow, well, maybe I’ll let
junior swing free a little.” Kyle purposely massaged his cotton-covered crotch
while he watched Dex’s briefs go south. “Well, when In Rome…” Kyle duplicated
his host’s movements and suddenly mirrored Dex’s image: completely nude except
for socks. Kyle was very pleased with the male form before him. They were
both the same height and seemed to be about the same size in the dick department.
Kyle’s blond hair contrasted with Dex’s dark brown shadings. Both men were
lean and naturally developed physically. Neither had a defined six-pack but
it was obvious that both took care of themselves.
“Versatility
is the password in this place. But, unless you have some foot fetish, let’s
lose the socks.”
“You
take them off me, and I’ll do the same ’cause I kinda get into feet.”
“Sounds
like it’s time to turn down the bed.” Dex neatly folded down the cover and
top sheet to the bottom of the bed. Carelessly, he tossed four of the decorative
pillows aside and eased onto the sheet-covered bed. “Join me?”
“Absolument,”
Kyle said as he eased onto the wrinkle-free sheet. He flipped around so his
feet were near Dex’s head.
“I
thought you didn’t know much French?”
“I
lied. But I mostly only know the basic stuff to navigate in a simple conversation.
Don’t want the guys from Le Figaro or Le Monde to think I’m a complete idiot.”
Kyle wiggled his feet.
“How
do you say, ‘let’s fuck’?” Dex removed one of Kyle’s socks, then the other.
“Je
préférer, let’s
fuck. It’s a universal language.” Kyle pulled off the socks in front of his
face and proceeded to suck on Dex’s big toe. He teased as his teeth snagged
the hair behind the first joint of the big toe.
“I’d
say this is one step at a time…but it’s more like one toe,” Dex said with
a laugh before he started sucking on Kyle’s small toe.
“Oh,
fuck.” Kyle scooted a little so that he could start tonguing and nibbling
the rest of Dex’s foot before he started on the leg. Slowly he moved up until
he was behind Dex’s knee. Kyle was lasciviously looking at a well-filled shaved
scrotum. From this position, the orbs looked enormous. He could hardly wait
until he reached the ‘promised land.’
“Man,
you are a horny devil.” Dex moved a little to his side and duplicated Kyle’s
actions. When he reached the knees, Dex continued up the inner-thighs. Within
moments, he was at Kyle’s crotch.
“Hold
it, right there,” Kyle said. He moved closer to the target and started picking
up the musky, male scent that drove him over the wall. At this point, Dex
was sporting an erection of steel. Small, dewy droplets of emissions hovered
just outside his urethra opening. It took all of Kyle’s self-discipline not
to lean up and orally digest Dex’s hard cock. However, he wanted this to be
a total experience for his new friend…and for him. ‘Jeez,’ he thought, ‘tell
me that this is form and substance.’ Kyle tentatively swiped his tongue over
the shaved membrane surface of Dex’s ball sac. The orbs inside rolled appreciatively
around in response. One at a time, he took a testicle in his mouth and tightly
sucked.
“Ah,
shit, babe,” th…th…that’s great, Dex moaned.
He grabbed on to Kyle’s hardon and plunged his face into the nether
world. He nibbled on the perineum before darting his tongue around Kyle’s
pucker. He started a slow jerking motion on the tip of Kyle’s cock while he
became more deliberate in penetrating a willing rosebud surrounded by wet,
matted-down, dark-blond hair.
Kyle
could finally hold back no longer. He guided his tongue past Dex’s balls,
onto the base of the veined shaft and up to a red, flared, spongy corona.
By this point in the encounter, Dex’s dick was seriously leaking pre-cum.
In one motion, Kyle engulfed the head. He swirled his tongue around and caught
the salty taste of Dex’s DNA. ‘Oh, yeah,’ he thought, ‘I’m definitely into
this.’ Kyle started bobbing up and down on Dex’s erection. Gradually, Dex
got caught up in the action and started matching movements. Before long, he
was aggressively fucking Kyle’s mouth.
“Ahhh,
oh, yeah, you beautiful, uhhh, cocksucker, oh…” Dex unevenly screamed with
heavy breathing. His balls tightened and started regressing as he prepared
to slam a homerun.
Kyle
was keeping pace and had shoved a finger up Dex’s asshole to heighten the
pleasure of the moment. He was aware that Dex was rounding third base. Kyle
felt Dex’s cock expand further before the expected eruption. He was furiously
finger-fucking Dex as the sphincter tightened. Within seconds, a lava-flow
of semen burst forth in Kyle’s mouth. Dex jerked forth as his climax heralded
the ejaculations. Kyle was ready to ingest Dex’s deposits and proudly didn’t
spill a drop.
“Man,
oh man,” Dex uttered appreciatively. His emotions returned to earth and his
body slowed down to a facsimile of normalcy. He rotated around and pulled
Kyle’s face up to his. He held onto Kyle’s face with his hands and moved in
for a passionate, sloppy, cum-sharing kiss.
“Babe, that was unexpected but fabulous. There’s only one thing I could
ask in return.”
“Désirer, Monsieur,”
Kyle said.
“Fuck
me, bâtard.”
“Les
accouterments?” Kyle asked as he rose to his
knees.
“In the drawer.” Dex smiled dreamily and nodded to
the bed stand.
__________________________
TO BE CONTINUED