Notes:  This is another one caused by Misty.  On our recent trip to Pittsburgh, we went by Hooters and Misty made the suggestion of what if Brian had to be in Hooters.

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I have to entertain clients all the time.  Some evenings are more pleasant than others.  Then there are few clients that I wish would drop through a crack in the floor.  Or just plain disappear.

I relish the business they bring to Kinnetik.  Creating the advertising campaign can be a challenge.  Pitching the concept is a piece of cake.

But, entertaining a client can sometimes test my patience and temper.

I remember when Marvin Telson came to town.  Sitting in the booth at the Liberty Diner, I told the guys that I don’t enjoy smoking cigars and talking pussy.  Of course, that evening turned out quite differently.  Showing family photographs on the catwalk at Babylon on “Big Dick” night.  Then, he wanted me to accompany him back to his hotel suite.  I showed up, but thank God for the phone call from his wife informing dear ol’ Marvin of his daughter’s broken arm. Thus ending his visit to Queerville.

I walked out of the room with my clothes in my hand.  I’m sure the site of a naked man in the hotel hallway scared the shit out of a few of the guests, but at least I had my dignity, even though I didn’t get the account.  I might not have a lot of scruples, but I wasn’t going to be fucked just to get an account.  And, literally, fucked without lube.  Marty Ryder wasn’t exactly thrilled. But when I explained what had transpired, his shocked expression and understanding set my mind at ease.  I promised myself that I would never put myself in that kind of situation again.

Even when Gardner Vance bought the agency and put me through my paces, I would not compromise my personal integrity.  I won’t hide who I am, but I don’t offer up my sexual preference either.  Like I told Gardner, “Unless I’m fucking you, it’s no one’s business.”

I know I do a bang-up job when I create and pitch the concept to the client.  I haven’t had a client turn me down since I started my own agency.

Which brings me to this client, Mr. Wade.  I was encouraged to call him Buster.  But I just don’t feel comfortable with this request for familiarity. I wondered if that’s his real name or a nickname.  The product he sells isn’t important to this story.  Just know that the product is widely used and profitable.

After the pitch and the contracts were signed, I asked Buster where he would like to go to celebrate.  I suggested a Pirates game at PNC Park, any number of steak houses, even sushi joints.  But when “Hooters” came out of his mouth, saying I was shocked was an understatement.

I agreed to pick up Mr. Wade, Buster if you will, in front of his hotel at 8 pm.  I arrived in front of the Renaissance Hotel a few minutes early.  Classy place, well at least from the outside.  While I was waiting, I spotted Jeff Goldblum getting into a limo.  I wonder what he was doing in the Pitts.

So Buster finally sauntered out and got in the ‘Vette.  “Nice ride,” he said.

I drove to Station Square across the Monongahela River pointing out various sites along the way.   Like Buster was actually interested.  After parking the car, we walked over to the entrance of “Hooters.”  I still can’t believe this is where Buster wanted to go to celebrate his new advertising campaign.

Well, anyway, we walk in and there was a short wait for a table.  Ol’ Buster was eyeing up the scantily clad girls.  I had thoughts of my cock never working properly again.  I’d rather be looking at scantily clad men, especially a very naked Justin.

Finally we are seated and our server, Dixxie, jiggles her way to our table.  Yes, jiggled.  Her tits couldn’t be natural.  They were so unnatural she was leaning, sorta like the Tower in Pisa.  I thought Buster’s eyes were going to pop out of their sockets.  I’m sure he had a raging hard-on. Not to mention the comments Buster made about the server’s name while jabbing me in the ribs with his elbow.  “Dick-see.  Woo Hoo!  What a vision for these old eyes.  Look, her headlights are on.”  

Our blonde server maybe a vision for Buster, definitely not my idea of a blond vision.  My idea of a blond vision is Justin slowly stroking his cock and balls and two fingers up his ass.

Buster ordered a pitcher of beer and I had a double Beam, neat.  When the drinks were placed in front of us, I asked Dixxie to bring me another double.  I didn’t want to get too plastered because I was driving, but I ‘really’ needed to calm my nerves.

We ordered our dinner.  Buster had a 50-piece order of Cajun-Samurai chicken wings and a double order of onion rings to be washed down with a second pitcher of beer.  I had the grilled chicken garden salad with balsamic vinegar dressing.  No carbs after 7 pm.  Buster just shook his head at my selection and said I was “too skinny.”  

So we talked about which print media and air markets the new ad might appear.   Buster was very receptive to my suggestions so I pulled out my palm pilot and made a few notes.  A few “Hooter Girls” paraded, or should I say jiggled, themselves around the dining room.  Buster was practically drooling at the sight. 

Woo fucking hoo.  I’m starting to sound like Theodore.  After sights like these, I didn’t think my little guy would ever be the same.  I feared a recurrence of sexual anxiety like I experienced after my surgery and radiation therapy.  

Twenty minutes and another pitcher of beer later, our meals were delivered to the table.  My dinner companion literally dove into his wings and rings.  Watching Buster with his greasy meal made me lose my appetite.  Needless to say, I picked at my salad.

So went dinner at “Hooters.”  An experience I couldn’t wait to forget.  Now if only they had “Hooter Boys” or what ever they might be called, with enhanced packages in tight little pants.  I could really get into that.

After the third pitcher of beer and an iced tea for me, I asked Dixxie for the check.  I steered a rather sloshed Buster back to the ‘Vette.  I just hoped he wouldn’t get sick in my car.  I dropped him back at the Renaissance Hotel shortly after 10.  Buster was last seen as one of the valet attendants helped him inside the hotel.  

At the first red light, I quickly called Justin on my cell phone.  “Be naked and on the bed waiting.”  I quickly disconnected the call.  I know my boy would do as requested.

During the drive back to the loft, I thought about ‘my’ blond vision, and not one with jiggling tits, just jiggling balls.  I took the elevator because I was just ‘too’ tired to walk up all those stairs.  Justin must have heard the whine of the elevator and had the loft door open for me.  

I walked in the door, closed the door and then looked around.  Justin had the doors to the bedroom tilted open.  There was my boy.  Naked and spread out across the bed fondling his balls and two fingers loosening up his luscious pink pucker.  

My dick was suddenly at full alert.  “Oh thank God, he still works.”  And without that nasty tea from the Chinese whatever or having it out with Dear Mom. Or Theodore’s Viagra tablets.

“Brian, what do you mean,” asked a concerned Justin.

“After the sights I saw tonight, I didn’t think he was ever going to function again.” I replied.  “Lots of unnatural jiggling tits, Justin.  I thought my dick would never rise to the occasion again.”

Justin rose to his knees on the bed as I walked up towards the bed.  I started to quickly rid myself of my clothes.  My young lover stilled my hands and slowly began removing my garments.  “Let me take care of you, my stud,” Justin said rather seductively and began kissing me.

So my young lover quickly had me naked and in the center of the bed.  I lay back, ready for Justin’s ministrations.  He had the condoms and lube handy.  He kissed me tenderly while he slowly massaged my balls and cock making it even more engorged, if that was possible.  

“Justin, do something. NOW!” I screamed.

He quickly moved down my body and took my cock into his mouth and began to suck.  Oh did that feel soooo good.  Then he removed his mouth and quickly rolled a condom on my painfully hard cock and lubed it up.  Then Justin squatted just above my straining erection.  I guided him as he lowered himself onto my dick.  

Oohhhhhh, what a feeling.  Being totally engulfed in Justin’s hot tunnel.  Looking into his lust-filled blue eyes.  Yes, this was what it was about.  Sucking and fucking.  And maybe a little cuddling afterwards.

I put the sights of the evening out of my mind and just enjoyed my blond vision. 

My cock worked.  He wasn’t broken anymore.  He rose to the sight of my blond vision.


July 28, 2004