Edgar Aeternum, Book 1: Tales of Aeternal Love (12 page)

"Well, congratulations! It took him long
enough! I don't know how you put up with people like him; I'd have
either pushed him in front of a magna or thrown myself in front of
one!" Edgar said.

"
Tell
me about it," said Wizzer.
"There are five very good reasons: M, O, N, E and Y. He's rolling
in it and I don't mind helping him spend it.
Of course
, I
have to constantly remind myself of that fact."

"Whatever works, man!" replied Edgar "I'm
just glad it's not me putting up with him. I don't think even the
money could keep me sane. "As a matter of fact, Edgar was a bit
surprised when Wizzer complained about Dr. Dumbass. His friend was
typically one of those people who found the good in even the most
annoying person. Dr. D must be every bit as bad as Wiz said and
then some to get under Wiz' skin.

"I'm celebrating the
momentous
occasion by staying up all night with a bong and a VR date." Wizzer
preferred taking his pleasures in the elaborately crafted virtual
world called Synthesis. It was an open-source community where, with
the right (outrageously expensive) gear one could live out any
fantasy conceivable and some that made even Edgar cringe. "As a
matter of fact," Wiz continued, "I better get going if I'm going to
be suited up and jacked in on time."

"No worries," Edgar said, grateful that Wiz
hadn't asked about his plans for the evening. "Have a great time!
I'll let you know how it goes with Maddi."

"I look forward to it!" Wiz said. "End
call."

A quick check of the time - nine-thirty - and
Edgar was back in the walk-in.

I love him, but Wiz'd have a meltdown if he
knew I was headed for Hermes tonight. Such a romantic, he is! I
have nothing against happy endings, but life is not a fairy tale
like it is in Synthesis. Out here, happily-ever-after takes a
shitload of hard work. In his mind, my going out tonight would be
like breaking my wedding vows on the honeymoon.

Edgar turned away from the casual rack to
check out dressier outfits. His gaze fell upon a classic black
Armani suit. Today, the suit was considered retro-chic, but to
Edgar, it'd never gone out of style. He paired it with a crisp
white dress shirt, black socks and exquisite Italian loafers. No
tie, but he chose sapphire cufflinks for the French cuffs.

He did a turn in the three-way mirror and,
satisfied with the results, headed for the living room. A quick
puff of Jamaican Blade and he'd be good to go. The strain was
perfect for an evening at Hermes. It left him feeling relaxed and
euphoric, but not couch locked and judgment-impaired. It also had
the benefit of being an amazing aphrodisiac. By the time he made it
to the lobby of his building, he was already partially hard. He
chuckled, glad he went with the tight black briefs. If he'd gone
commando as he'd originally planned, the soft stimulation of the
slacks would've finished the task he was hoping to accomplish at
the club.

Ten minutes later, Edgar boarded the
magna-train at Altair Station. The magna stop nearest Hermes was
King Street, two blocks from the club. The magna ride only took
five minutes, but the walk would've been a half hour; Edgar wanted
to save his time and energy for the evening's entertainment.

He walked up to Hermes' door just before ten.
The uniformed doorman greeted him collegially. "Good evening, sir!
It's good to see you again. I must say, you're looking quite smart
tonight."

"Thank you, Charles," Edgar said, smiling.
The doorman was not just for show and polite greetings, however.
Charles had black belts in two different martial arts: Tae kwon do
and Thraxian ba'd shaht, the latter an impressive accomplishment
given that fewer than one hundred humans had ever reached that
level. The security was not so much for rowdy members; Hermes'
policy on conduct was quite strict. Any member who dared cause
enough of a disturbance that Charles had to become involved was
sternly advised to never darken the club's door again. Given that
Hermes was the gentlemen's club in the city, only fools ever dared
cross that line.

"I trust you've been well, sir," Charles said
as he opened the heavy oaken door for Edgar. The club modeled
itself after the gent's clubs of nineteenth century London. It was,
however, outfitted with all the latest tech. Charles' presence in
regards to security was mainly to discourage non-members from
attempting entry.

"I've been quite well, thank you, Charles. I
trust you're also well?" Edgar asked.

"Most definitely, sir. I just returned from a
week's vacation in Paris. It was quite refreshing, sir," replied
the dapper doorman. "I hope you have a pleasant evening with us,
sir."

"That sounds like a great vacation, Charles.
Paris is lovely this time of year. I'm sure my evening will be
quite enjoyable. I hope yours is peaceful," Edgar said.

"I'm sure it will be, sir," Charles replied,
smiling briefly. In the five years he'd been working for Hermes,
he'd never received so much as a scratch he was that good at his
job. Edgar wondered, not for the first time, how good he was at
other things. True to his role, though, Charles' personal
preferences were unknown. The club forbade its employees from that
type of fraternization with members. That he'd shared the news of
his vacation was about as personal as Charles ever became.

Edgar smiled and entered the club, greeted
immediately by the smell of old leather and expensive cologne. The
Jamaican Blade kicked up another notch as the enticing aromas
washed over him. He recognized one of the scents as belonging to a
favorite bedmate and found himself hoping the man hadn't already
had his fill of entertainment for the evening. Sterling was an
amazing top and Edgar was still somewhat hungry for a good
fuck.

He didn't see Sterling in the ornately
decorated lobby. Most of the arm chairs were filled, some with men
deep in conversation, others engrossed in a good read. This was a
quiet zone, the conversations carried out in soft tones. Here, one
could be served a drink from the club's well-stocked bar or a puff
of herb from its equally well-stocked collection. Tonight, it
seemed the choice was port wine and brandy; the air was clear.
Though to be honest, even when hookahs and bongs were the order of
the evening, the air filtration system whisked away what otherwise
would be a dense cloud of smoke.

Edgar didn't usually spend much time in the
lobby unless he was conversing with a fellow member. He figured if
he wanted to read alone, he could easily stay home. He returned a
few waves, but continued through the lobby to the double doors at
the end opposite the club's entrance. Beyond those doors was the
much livelier gaming room, home to any number of card, board and
computer games. A quick scan revealed no sign of Sterling. Of
course, Edgar would have little difficulty in finding a suitable
companion for the evening, but he really wanted to see Sterling, if
such was possible.

The gaming area was almost filled to
capacity, waiters scurrying about like busy ants, taking and
filling orders with quiet efficiency. Normally, Edgar would tour
the room, greeting old acquaintances and maybe making new ones;
tonight, however, he was a man on a mission and the first priority
of that mission was determining whether Sterling was available.

He worked his way through the crowded room,
heading toward the rear again. If he went through the door on the
left, he'd be in the carnal delights area; the right would take him
to the sports section and that's where he headed. If he didn't see
Sterling in that area, it meant that the man had already found a
companion for the night. Edgar seriously hoped that Sterling was
watching a hockey game or some other athletic distraction. He
further hoped that he, himself, could provide ample distraction to
lure Sterling across the way to the other door.

Edgar often found himself in the sports area,
more for the camaraderie of men watching games than the games
themselves. Not that he didn't have any interest in sports; he was
simply not the type of man who bled team colors. He'd long ago
discovered that the sports bar was also the best place to find
another Andro; especially one ripe for a romp, after being pumped
up on his team's success or let down by their failure.

Edgar didn't have any problem with non-Andro
gay men, as some of his Andro brothers did. He just gravitated
toward other Andros because they, like him, embodied pure
masculinity. Wizzer, for instance, was a great friend, but
definitely not Andro; yet he was probably the closest thing Edgar
had to a best friend in this lifetime.

He often wondered what the man who'd coined
the term would think about today's society. Edgar had devoured
(several times) the manifesto that ultimately became the basis for
Andro culture. One of the few regrets he had was not being able to
meet its author, an intelligent albeit controversial gent named
Jack. There was a brief time when Edgar participated in an online
group set up by the author, but the group eventually closed. He'd
had a few exchanges with Jack online and found the man's insight
refreshing.

The whole concept of Andro culture was the
celebration of the truly masculine. Again, not that Edgar didn't
have feminine gay friends, but Andros focused on the masculine
essence that came naturally to them. These were the gay men who
were more comfortable at a ballgame cheering for their favorite
player than at a bar with the "girls." The idea was to promote a
society where loving other men didn't require one to be effeminate.
If one's nature was effeminate, one should be true to that nature,
not forced to conform. Likewise, Andros should feel free to
celebrate maleness without being excluded.

It's been interesting watching society
evolve. So many of us sci-fi nerds wondered if it'd be like 'Star
Trek:TNG'; in some ways, yeah, I suppose it is. HC's, medical
advancements, clean energy and all that jazz. In other ways, not so
much. Gender lines didn't blur and become a non-issue like we
thought. Instead, they grew even more sharply defined. Of course,
some found that confusing as hell, but in the end, the focus was on
people, not plumbing.

Laws finally caught up with the times and
discrimination was abandoned as an outdated construct. Except, of
course, on Genesis, but that came later. Everybody can become as
educated as they want to be; everyone has equal access to
employment; no one bats an eye about gender or orientation anymore.
By not making all genders the same, but rather defining and
celebrating their differences, yet making all people equal under
the law, we humans finally got our shit together.

There are currently fifteen recognized
genders and orientations on Earth. Don't even get me started on
alien variations! There are the 'obvious' ones: hetero-male,
hetero-female, homo-male, homo-female, bi-male, bi-female,
trans-male post-op, trans-female post-op, trans-male non-op,
trans-female non-op, asexual, polys, Andros, Femmas, and Synths,
those who only identified in Synthesis.

And all the fractionalized politics that
used to go with 'non-traditional' gender/orientation are gone. It's
odd, yet refreshing, to not have the various groups at each other's
throats for what they see as the best piece of the pie. Shit, these
'groups' are more sociological designations than anything else. Now
that everybody's part of one big, happy family, activist groups
based on gender and orientation are extinct. Sure, there are
ladies' and gents' social clubs, but such venues exist for all
genders and orientations, should they choose to go. No, gents
aren't allowed in ladies' clubs and vice versa, but that's merely
because we no long believe that everyone has the same social needs
regardless of orientation and gender. There's no such thing as 'one
size fits all' anymore; gender and orientation differences are
recognized and validated as part of a normal, healthy society.

Enough of that, though. Right now, there's
one gender I'm looking for, or rather a member of one particular
gender. And, if luck is with me, I'll soon be very close to his
member!

Luck had apparently decided to grace Edgar
with its presence as he soon spotted Sterling seated at a table
with two other club members, one hetero-male, one pair-bonded
Andro. Edgar knew and liked both of them. If anything, he was in
for some good conversation and, glancing at the vid-screen, a good
boxing match. However, he still wanted to get Sterling alone for
some jabs of a decidedly different nature.

Sterling glanced in Edgar's direction, his
face lighting up as he waved Edgar over. The other two men turned
to see who'd caught Sterling's eye. Both of them grinned from ear
to ear upon seeing it was Edgar; they enjoyed his company and, he
knew, had probably put two and two together realizing they'd likely
be losing their boxing buddy soon.

If Sterling's head-to-toe examination was any
indication, they were right. The thickly muscled man was
practically devouring Edgar with his eyes. He licked his lips and
Edgar's cock twitched. Sterling was not just an amazing top, he was
a perfect specimen of manhood. He was an impressive six feet tall,
unusual in today's world, and an avid gym goer. Tonight, he wore a
skin-tight short-sleeved shirt that barely contained his biceps and
pecs. The light beige shirt was in perfect contrast with Sterling's
caramel-colored skin.

As Edgar approached the table, the three men
stood to greet him. Edgar gave Sterling his own quick head-to-toe,
pleased to find the man had on well-worn jeans that looked painted
on due to his massive legs. The jeans also highlighted Sterling's
lengthening erection. Edgar knew from experience that the man's
dick ranked in the Holy Shit! category of size, coming in at ten
inches long. Edgar's abdomen clenched as his own arousal jumped
another notch. Sterling caught Edgar checking out his package and
smiled, full lips parting to reveal straight white teeth. The smile
reached his brown eyes, making them sparkle. He kept his dark hair
cut close to the scalp, but not so close that he appeared balding.
The only sign that the man was in his forties was the slight
graying at his temples, something that only made him more
attractive, in Edgar's opinion.