Little Squirrels Can Climb Tall Trees (3 page)

Even though I lived in a city surrounded by tens of thousands of people, hundreds of thousands of people—well, actually several million—it was still always difficult for me to talk with people because basically I was a very shy person. I know. You’re thinking,
How does a shy person constantly speak their mind and stick his foot in his mouth? And get laid on a regular basis?
Trust me, it can be done. I had ample proof from years of experience on both points.

So I was having a wonderful time. This whole afternoon had turned out to be so unexpected. Usually I did my workout, checked out a few guys I knew I’d never be brave enough to talk with, and then went home to read or clean or do something equally engaging until it was time to go to bed and then get up and go to work. You know, the whole cycle of life thing. At least the cycle of workweek life thing.

It was so unexpected but so absolutely wonderful to spend time talking with a gorgeous, engaging man who seemed to love listening to me. Had I paid him and just forgotten? No one ever listened to me unless I paid them. Not that I had paid anyone, it’s just that no one had ever really listened to me before. Enough with the pity party.

It’s not that I’m ugly or anything. I’m told that I’m a very attractive man. But I’ve also been told that I sort of exude lack of confidence and try to blend into the background. I wasn’t a hermit living in a cave watching life go by. I went out, met guys, got laid occasionally—never enough, but then what guy ever has enough? I haven’t met the man yet, nor have I heard of any sightings. My grandfather was eighty, and he was still frisky—at eighty! And he loved to talk about it too.
Focus, focus on the attractive man hanging on your every word.

I tuned back in just in time.

“I’m so sorry to have kept you here babbling away like this,” Kyle said.

“No! I’m loving it! Don’t apologize! And please don’t stop!” I scolded myself.
Don’t sound so desperate!

“Are you hungry?”

I looked at my watch and couldn’t believe that it was already dinnertime. Where had the day gone? Oh, right, drooling over Kyle’s naked body and then hanging on his every word just like I wanted to hang on his dick of death.

“Yes, actually, I am.”

“There’s a great Thai place near here. Do you like Thai food?”

“Love it!”

“Great. Would you like to grab some dinner? And promise me that if I babble on too much, you’ll smack me and tell me to shut up!”

“Not likely,” I said with my own smile, although the image of spanking him did get me going again.
Down, boy!
the voice in my head tried to argue. Another voice wasn’t hearing it.
Whyyyy?
It’s a good thing I was the only one who heard the arguments going on inside my head. It probably wasn’t going on inside my head but was actually my two heads talking—the big one up on top and the smaller one down at the beltline that wanted to take over the world and storm the barricades, boldly go where no man had gone before (but I wouldn’t turn down sex just because some other man had gotten there first—really, I’m not stupid, just horny).

A
S
LONG
as his legs were, I thought I would have to race to keep up with Kyle, but he walked at a pace that was perfect for me and my shorter legs. At the restaurant the woman who greeted us at the door seemed to know Kyle by sight and greeted him like a long-lost friend. He surprised me by putting his hands together and bowing slightly as he greeted her in Thai. She immediately took us to a table that was set off to one side in a nook. We could see the entire restaurant, but the noise of everyone else talking wasn’t intrusive. It was the perfect table for conversation, especially when you were with someone as perfect as I was with at the moment.

Kyle couldn’t have suggested a better option for me—I adore Thai food. Any food that had so many heavenly flavors was high in my book. My mother would never, ever eat Thai food. She was a good cook, but she certainly didn’t want her food to be spicy. No, sir. I, on the other hand, like my food to have some authority. I like my food to have a bit of kick. A good Thai curry fit the bill to perfection. A good cook could make a Thai curry that would have your eyelashes and nipples sweating.
Hmmm, maybe if Kyle had a spicy curry, his nipples would sweat. And being a good man, I’d just have to lick the sweat…. No! Focus! No nipple sweat! No nipple sweat! Oh, God! Nipple sweat! No! Focus! Damn it!

“You okay?” Kyle asked.

“Sure. Why?”

“You looked a little distracted for a minute. Hope I didn’t say something stupid.”

“
No!
No! I was just trying to remember not to get the ultrahot curry, only the four-alarm curry.”

“You like curry?”

“Love it! I’m a fan of Thai curry especially.”

“Me too. Sometime if you’re really brave, I can make my chili for you.”

“You cook?”

“A little.”

“Okay. It’s a date,” I said boldly.

“Good! But we should probably order and eat here first.”

I laughed along with him. How had this gorgeous hunk of perfection
wound up at the table with me? Surely he must have intended to sit with someone else.

Somehow we continued to talk. We laughed. We talked some more. We laughed some more. And we drank a couple of mai tais. Did I mention that we drank mai tais? We drank mai tais. And they were
gooooood
! So good. I didn’t drink enough to get sloshed, but I did get a little relaxed.

After our third one and after appetizers and entrées were finished, we sat savoring the meal, basking in the glow of a great evening. Without intending to, I was watching his beautiful lips. Apparently I was staring because he asked, “What’s wrong?”

I very nearly said, “Just admiring your phenomenal lips.” But somehow I restrained myself. Another part of my dirty mind made up the perfect dialogue for if I’d actually said what I was thinking
. Just admiring your luscious lips. Fuck. Did I just say that?

“Yes, you did, and yes, I would love to fuck,” he said. “I was beginning to wonder if you were ever gonna take the hint that I wanted to jump your bones.”

But I was a good boy. Why, I have no freakin’ idea, since good boys don’t get laid nearly as much as bad boys. And I wanted to be a bad boy so, so badly right then.

But I answered his question in a polite manner. “Nothing’s wrong. Just thinking about what a great time I’ve had with you this afternoon. It’s rare to meet a nice guy in this city, so imagine how rare it is to meet Mr. Perfect!”

“Where?” Kyle asked, pretending to look around.

“You!”

“Me? Perfect? You need to get your eyes examined! Or stop drinking.”

“Looks damned good to me from here.”

“Must be purely surface illusion.”

“Okay. Damned nice surface illusion, then.”

Danger! Danger!
Warning alarms were going off in my head.
Quicksand ahead—proceed with caution.

Kyle sighed. Okay, I knew it. I’d offended him. He knew I wanted to jump his bones, and was about to tell me that I was an old pervert and to fuck off.

“Joseph, you have been a delight! I’ve had such a great time. I can’t begin to tell you how good it’s made me feel to spend this time with you today.”

Hmmm. Not what I’d expected, but I’d take it if he was offering.

“I would love to continue this, but I’m so, so sorry. I have to get up at an unbelievably early hour tomorrow morning to get to work. I’ve got the early shift starting at 7:00 a.m. all week, so I’ve got to get home and get to bed.”

I was thinking it wasn’t a problem. I could take him home, put him to bed, and tuck him in—after I fucked the living daylights out of him for a couple of hours and licked his glorious body from head to foot and then back again.

Rather than reveal my lust for his glorious body, I made a show of looking at my watch. I was actually quite surprised to see that it was nine o’clock—at night! Where the fuck did the day gone? I had to get to work in the morning as well. “Holy crap! It’s nine o’clock! That’s not possible. It was noon just a couple of hours ago!”

“I’m afraid I’ve kept you all day. I’m so sorry for taking over your day so unexpectedly. This has been a lot of fun, and I hate to see it end, but—”

“As much as it pains me to do so, I have to agree. I’ve got to get up in the morning as well and go suck on the tit of corporate America.”

“I’ve never heard it put quite that way before,” Kyle said with a look of astonishment on his face. “Not overly fond of what you do?”

“Not at the moment, no. I’m good at it, and I do it very well, and I get paid really well for what I do, but I’ve done it for a while.” I stopped myself. “No. You don’t need to hear about that. We need to get you home and into bed so you can get some sleep and get up to be a responsible adult in the morning.”

We tossed some cash onto the table to cover our dinner and drinks and then made our way out to the street. The sun was long gone, and the chill of an early fall evening permeated the air.

I stuck out my hand to Kyle, but he simply opened his arms and drew me into a big hug. Okay, now, this was really unexpected.
Hmmm, straight men don’t initiate hugs with other men. Hmmm. Collecting data. Collecting data. Analysis failed due to testosterone overload.
My lips were now closer to those nipples that had taunted me earlier, but unfortunately they were all covered in cloth—not quite as appealing, but my dirty mind had made photographic imprints of the little orbs of delight for posterity. I lost myself in his arms, savoring the joy of being so close to Mr. Perfect. I was convinced that I was about to wake up and discover that this had all been a dream and that I was really an old troll who only got near cute men by stalking and waylaying them.

“Call me, please?” Kyle asked as he stepped back from the unexpected embrace.

“I would,” I said with a smile, “if I had your phone number, or your name so I could find your phone number, or knew anything about who you really are. I know that the godlike beings such as yourself don’t like to reveal much about their true identities when they walk among us mere mortals. I’d love to call you if you’d help me out a little.”

“I still think you’re delusional when you say things like that.” Kyle laughed. He pulled a business card from his gym bag and wrote a number on the back. “That’s my cell. It’s always with me, but I can’t answer when I’m doing morning rounds, talking with a patient, or in blood and guts up to my elbows.”

“You’re a doctor?” Didn’t see that one coming, but then I hadn’t seen any of this coming.

“Yes. Just finished my residency. I promise to tell you all about it if you’re interested. Have dinner with me again so we can talk some more?”

“Yes. It’s a date.”

“Great! Night,” he said as he galloped off into the dark to go to his extra-long bed and get some Tall Man sleep. Me, I stood there on the street corner, completely befuddled. Testosterone coursed through my veins. My vision was all fuzzy.
Nipples. Sweat. God among men. No. Home.

Somehow I got myself moving down the street in the proper direction and made it to my apartment. I hadn’t been inside more than five minutes before the residents from the lower quarters stood up and demanded attention. Knowing that I would never be able to do anything else until I had dealt with this, I sat on the sofa, leaned back, closed my eyes, and pictured my own Greek God Come Down from the Heavens in all his naked, sweaty, dripping, smiling, laughing glory. I had one of the fastest orgasms of my life—partly because he’d kept me on the edge for so many hours by being all perfect and talking with me for so long. What a day!

The
next morning I was confronted with that age-old dilemma, that dilemma that would determine the future course of events: how soon is too soon to call for a second date? In fact, had we even
had
a first date? I hoped so. I really, really hoped so. And I also hoped that he was willing to put out on the second date. Either that or I might possibly hump his or some other random man’s leg without intending to do so.