A Dinner at Gadero’s
A FEW MOMENTS LATER TRENT burst into the sauna with Jonny in tow. They tore off their clothes, chucking them outside the door before closing it.
Reaching for the controls, Trent set the unit and as he did, the softness of Jonny’s palms started to rub against the bulk of his upper arm.
“You like that?” Trent asked him.
“Yes,” Jonny said tamely, and Trent lifted his arm.
“Flex Friday,” Trent said. His bicep curled into a baseball sized mound that stretched the skin seductively. Intricate veins ran across the whole thing like the back of a leaf and Jonny continued to use both sets of hands to feel each one.
As steam started to fill the room, causing them to sweat more, Jonny’s dreamlike state returned. He moved his head closer to Trent’s chest, burying his nose in the crease between his upper chest and neck. It smelled amazing there. Lowering a hand, he grabbed hold of Trent’s erection and began to play with it, all while moving his face into Trent’s armpit, then along the underside of his arm. Jonny’s tongue had wormed its way out, following a deep line that separated Trent’s arm muscles.
“Mmm,” Trent moaned, the steam bringing his veins even further out from the surface. They were now crossing his chest, back, and legs.
Using his unattended arm, Trent rubbed the side of Jonny’s torso before moving down toward his ass, kneading it with his thick fingers. He pulled away from Jonny then kneeled in front of him, licking his dick playfully before spinning the young man around. Sweat was rolling down his back, pooling in a small divot that sat at the rim of his ass. Trent rubbed his beard there, then moved downward, the prickling hairs teasing and tormenting as they went.
Now it was Jonny’s turn to moan and gasp, both of which he did loudly. Trent’s tongue joined the fray for a few pleasing moments before yielding to one of his fingers. It continued tantalizing him, sinking inside the hot hole until a shudder indicated that it’d found Jonny’s prostrate. Once that happed, it was like the starting pistol at a race, the sole finger joined by another, then a third, and a fourth, until all were writhing with him.
Rivers of precum flowed onto the floor once Trent’s thumb had entered, and a lightheadedness overcame Jonny as he felt them all moving back and forth together. Jonny dared not look back to see how much of Trent’s arm was in him, but he knew that a manly fist was both abusing and rewarding that flowering hole, with an assault on his senses unlike anything he’d felt before.
“I…”
“Don’t hold back, Jonny-boy.”
“Ugh… I…”
Trent felt Jonny clamp down on him and he stopped moving, watching through the mist as the clear river became solid white, long strands of cum spilling out of Jonny as his cries of blissful pain filled the room.
“And with that,” Trent said, slowly pulling himself out of Jonny’s trembling body, “brings an end to arm day.
“WHY ARE YOU WALKING LIKE that?” Jared asked, the guest pager beeping right afterward, its red light flashing rapidly. “Oh, thank God. If your impatient pacing wasn’t bad enough, J, doing it with your best duck impression was…”
Jared paused, searching for the right word but Jonny had already stopped moving, folding his arms over his luminous green Legend of Zelda shirt. It was one size too big, but too cool to pass up when he saw it on sale.
“I’m not walking any differently than I have for the last twenty-one years,” Jonny snipped.
“Oh, so you were walking right out of the womb then?” Jared replied, giving Trent a side glance knowing that he had something to do with it.
The two gym rats stood up from the bench they’d been resting on while the restaurant prepared their seats. Jared, in his well-fitting jeans and extra-large shirt that still seemed too small, made way for the door while Trent held back, stretching in his indecently low cut black V-neck.
They’d all decided on a popular Italian place named Gadero’s for their last night out. Nothing sounded better to any of them than carb-laden heaven. It was a family restaurant, lively and classy, yet informal with a whole-hearted atmosphere. They had been doing well over the years, and even with a reservation the wait had been a good thirty minutes.
“You know what I mean,” Jonny said, following Jared inside.
“You are walking funny,” Trent observed, bringing up the rear. His voice was a low whisper, but loud enough that Jared still heard.
“And it would be your fault!” Jonny hissed, trying his best to walk normally; he failed. There was a lady seated at a passing table who gave him an ‘oh that poor boy, crippled at such a young age’ look and Jonny waved politely at back her, then plunged his hand in a pocket, grumbling the entire time.
After being seated, the trio set about looking over the menu and ordering drinks. In addition to the waters they ordered cocktails. Jonny got himself a Long Island while Jared ordered an Negroni and Trent a whiskey neat. The drinks came and Jonny was the first to pick up his glass; he held it out in front.
“To… us,” he said, and he was smiling.
Trent raised his stout glass while Jared picked his up by the narrow stem.
“To us,” they said.
Their glasses touched and they drank.
As they settled back into their seats, Trent grabbed a hot roll out of the decorative basket, ripping it down the middle. Steam puffed out from it like a present and a wonderful smell filled his nostrils.
“Hey Jonny,” he said coyly, holding the edges apart. “Wanna play?”
Jonny picked up another roll and threw it at Trent. He caught it mid-flight and took a massive bite out of it.
“Double fisting it I see,” Jared cut in. “Just how you like it.”
The three rolled with laughs when their waiter returned.
“Do you gentlemen need any extra time to look over the menu?” handsome Mediterranean man. His name was Marco (emphasis on the rolling r) and he was wearing the staff uniform: a crisp white shirt with a maroon scarf and colored accents over black trousers. “Or, perhaps you have questions for me?”
“I sure do,” Trent said, “You want my number?”
Jared rubbed his eyebrow with a hooked finger, nervously waiting for Marco’s response. Jonny lifted his glass and took a big swig, bulging eyes unblinking as he too waited.
Marco’s look of befuddlement quickly shifted into one of amusement, then flattery. He brandished a gleaming smile that put all of theirs to shame and swiped a dark hand though his jet-black locks.
“How about I give you mine,” he replied in that sexy accent and Trent couldn’t manage anything more than a satisfied chuckle.
“Hell yeah, Marrrrrco,” Trent said, pushing a messy accent. Taking the hand-written digits that were scrolled across a napkin, he pushed it into his pocket, then pointed to the menu. “We’ll definitely be in touch later. Now, I did have another question, this time about an amazing-looking salad. Now, can this be made without the kale in it?”
“I’m sorry sir.” Marco grimaced. “It’s a warm kale salad so it’s mixed in early in the prep process.”
“Ah, then it’s amazing in appearance only, just like a lot of tricks.” Trent’s mouth swished from side to side as he pondered other menu items. “Here’s a tip from a professional bodybuilder and nutritionist, by the way: adding just a smidgen of coconut oil to that kale while it warms will help you scoop that shit right out of the pan and into the trash.”
“So, the salad is a definite no?” Marco said, stifling a laugh.
“Righty, my friend,” Trent said, tapping the menu. “Hmmm, I’ll go ahead and take the house specialty then.”
“Classic lasagna it is.”
Trent nodded, taking a sip of water.
“You gents know what you want to eat?” he asked, looking at Jared and Jonny’s bemused faces.
They each ordered and then had great conversations about the week leading right up to them entering the restaurant.
“I knew Trent was the reason you were walking funny,” Jared said. He nudged Jonny on the elbow. “At least I can manage that without my fist…”
Trent’s dirty look dissolved once their meals arrived, the hot plates and massive servings making him drool.
The discussions resumed and continued, between savoring the incredibly tasty food, well after the main courses were gone and dessert ordered. While waiting on the tiramisu to arrive, Jonny looked across the table from Jared to Trent and back again. A moment of silence that defied description fell over the three of them, and then Jonny realized what he was feeling. He was more at home here than at his actual home back in Marshall. Perhaps it was just the restaurant’s orange lights, continuing to serve their hearty helpings of sentiment, that made him feel that way, but he suspected – in his heart – that there was more to it than that. He felt right, and suspected the others felt the same way.
A screeching noise suddenly cut through the bliss.
“Hurry up and decide what you want!” a voice shrieked.
It was a middle-aged woman one table over, though for as loud as she was hissing, she might as well have been screaming in everyone’s ears. She was directing her anger at a portly man in a dark suit that was struggling to contain his bulk. Seams swelled and buttons looked ready to spring off at any moment. His white shirt brought out a pallid shade of mauve along his neckline. Doing his best to ignore her, he was probably her husband, though he looked more like a prisoner. For better or worse, as the vows go, right?
“I’ve already ordered mine!” she barked, her hard features indicating that she didn’t take too kindly to a cold shoulder thrust her way.
“Well, well, well,” Trent said smugly, willing to help a lady in distress. He leaned over in his chair as if to get a better look, gawking at her top designer dress. He brought his second glass of whisky up to his lips, his chest bulging from the top of that insanely deep V-neck, and polished it off. “Congratulations!”
The woman glanced at him harshly, unimpressed by his physique and even less with his attire.
“And you are?” she crooned down the length of her beak-like nose.
“A man that is quite astonished. You, my dearest shrew, have managed to prove an internet meme wrong! Apparently, the Garden of Eden was not the only place a bitch knew exactly what she wanted to eat.”
“Well! I never!” the woman bellowed. If she had pearls, she’d likely have clutched them.
“Never for you is probably for the best,” Trent added, ending his statement with a wink. He turned his attention back to his friends, leaning against the back of his chair grinning.
“You’re on rare form tonight!” Jared said, wiping away tears from the corner of his eyes. He could hear the woman blathering something indecipherable at her husband. He still hadn’t ordered.
“He’s been like this all week,” Jonny said, also laughing.
“Not sure if I should be happy or sad that I missed it,” Jared said, shaking his head.
The tiramisu arrived a short time later and Trent gave the huffing woman a gaze as he bit into the soft dessert.
“So, what are your plans for the coming weeks guys?” Trent asked, telling them that he had some clients from Hell coming in from out of country. They were apparently Russian fitness models and Trent wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle them, their attitudes borderline the same as his.
“I’m sure you’ll be just fine,” Jonny said. “They probably need your expert help prepping for a photo shoot for some romance book covers.”
“Here in little Logan?” Jared said.
“Yeah, it is picturesque,” Jonny replied. He voice was laden with sadness. “I wish I could stay longer.”
Jared’s hand wrapped around Jonny’s, giving him a light rub with his thumb.
“I know…”
“You like reading that sort of thing, Jonny-boy?” Trent asked.
“Reading what?”
“Those sex books…” he answered, a single brow cocked sexily. “I’d rather be living all that stuff, myself.”
“Well, we don’t all have as exciting lives as Casanova Cassidy,” Jonny replied.
Jared was giggling.
“Jonny, your spring break was certainly a week worthy of a story.”
“You think so?” Jonny asked, mildly surprised. But on second thought, it wasn’t that surprising and Jared could be right. He returned his attention to Trent. “But to answer your question, yes, I read those kinds of books. All kinds really. I’ll pretty much read any genre except historical.”
“I wish I had fun reading time or training sessions with fitness models on the docket,” Jared said, his face flatter than a pancake, “but I get the pleasure of finals. With midterms out of the way, they’ll be here before I know it, so I’ll be knee-deep in studying and coursework. Loads of fun.”
“Same with me actually,” Jonny said, “though my teachers this semester don’t seem to be as stringent as those at LU.”
“Lucky you,” Jared said. “It only gets worse the further I get.”
Marco reappeared like a sexy genie from a bottle, dropping off the check in its sleek black presenter.
“Take your time gents, I don’t mind the fabulous eye candy …” He rolled his eyes in the direction of the still-huffing woman. “Considering that.”
“You got it,” Trent said, picking up the bill and immediately handing it over to Jared. “We’ll stay for a little bit longer.”
“Why do I get the bill?” Jared asked, seizing it.
“Because I don’t pay for dinner until after you blow me,” he answered, “and from what I recall that has yet to happen since forming this little triangle of ours.”
“So, all those times we did things before…”
“All wiped clean like footprints off a beach.”
“Bastard,” Jared mumbled. He set the folder down, griping the entire time he was trying to fish his wallet out of his tight jeans pocket.
“You really should lay off those squats, J-rod,” Trent said.
“You never complained before,” Jared retorted.
During their exchange, Jonny snatched the bill off the table.
“I got this you guys,” he said and before either of the others could protest, Jonny had called Marco over