Edgar Aeternum, Book 1: Tales of Aeternal Love (7 page)

"Cancel wake-up alarm," he ordered the HC as
he headed to the bathroom to relieve himself. The familiar chime
sounded and the even tone of the HC's programmed voice followed
Edgar to the bathroom, "One message waiting."

"Hold message," Edgar said as he unleashed a
strong stream of urine into the bowl. "Mmmmm..." he sighed as the
pleasure of a good piss washed over him. It was a long leak, good
given the amount he drank earlier.

That feels so fuckin' good! Ahhhh, yeah.
Nothin' quite like a good whiz. Almost makes up for the interrupted
nap. Though it is nice to have that greedy little bitch off my
back. I hate shit like that. I have a feeling she's gonna hate
Tyranus 6; serves her right.

I wonder who called. Whoever it is can damn
well wait. I hated cellphone chats in the bathroom in the twen-cen
and I hate comm calls there now. Nothing is so important it needs
to be handled in the john, period.

The stream slowed to a trickle and then
stopped. Edgar shook off the last drops, washed his hands and
requested playback of message. Maddi's voice tracked Edgar back to
the living room, where Edgar wrapped himself in the fleece again
before sitting.

"H-hi, Edgar! It's Maddox," the boy sounded
both cheerful and terrified at the same time. "Th-thanks for
calling me back. Sorry I missed you, too, m-man. My schedule is
crazy. I, uh, really do wanna talk, uh, soon. Maybe, um..." the
pause sounded as though Maddox was screwing up enough courage to
jump from a plane. "Maybe you'd, uh, like to, um, g-get together
s-sometime soon? Uh, look, if you, um, don't want to, I-I
understand. I j-just think it'd be fun. H-hope to hear from you
soon! End call."

He sat pondering the message. Obviously, the
boy was nervous and didn't think that Edgar could possibly be
interested in him. Edgar wondered if maybe it was just nerves.
Could it be that Maddox was somehow desperate? Maybe even
unbalanced? Edgar's stomach chose that moment to growl, loudly
announcing its desire for dinner. Roused from his musings, Edgar
called for lights and the apartment was filled with a warm glow.
Now that renewable energy was no big deal, the world had returned
to incandescent lights, flipping a big bird to their pale,
fluorescent substitutes.

He got up and dropped the wrap. Once out of
the warm cocoon, he shivered a bit and ordered the HC to bring the
apartment to nighttime temp. It could be automated, but since his
schedule was so erratic, Edgar typically left it on manual. In the
meantime, he popped into his bedroom and grabbed a lush, thick robe
of a pale sky-blue. Wearing it felt like a hug and the color
highlighted Edgar's sandy blond hair perfectly.

"Music," he called out to the HC on his way
to the kitchen. The system chimed and requested, "Selection?" Edgar
paused for a moment. The nap hadn't been particularly satisfying,
other than the racy dream, and he was glad Jace invited him to the
club tonight. "1980s Earth, light rock," Edgar said and the system
obliged; a second later, A-Ha began
Take on Me
.

He stood in the kitchen, hungry but not
feeling particularly motivated to cook and decided pizza sounded
good. He got an ice-cold glass of water and said, "Pause music."
Immediately, the song stopped. "Place call: Antonia's Pizza."

The line picked up and Edgar was greeted by
the friendly bass of his favorite pie maker. "Antonia's, Tazz here.
What can I get ya?" Edgar pictured the sparkling green eyes and jet
black hair that went with the voice.

If you weren't straight as the proverbial
arrow, I'd like a double sausage!

Instead, Edgar said, "Tazz! It's Edgar! I
like a large double special, please."

"Ed-dee!" the cheery bass boomed. "How's it,
man?"

Edgar smiled. Tazz was the only one who
called him "Eddie" and certainly the only one in this century Edgar
ever heard pronounce it with that emphasis. He liked it; it took
him back to when he actually went by that nickname. "It's pretty
sweet, mah man!" Edgar replied. It was their standard exchange,
even on the occasions Edgar ordered a couple days in a row.

"Good to hear! You wanna toss in an order of
Stix with that?" Tazz asked.

At the mention of the word "Stix," Edgar's
stomach growled again, making the decision for him. The things
ought to come with a Surgeon General's warning, they were so damned
addictive. Sweet, sweet dough laced with enough butter to sauté a
hippo, rolled around a chewy tsano core and baked to perfection.
The secret was the tsano; the root vegetable, grown only on Mars,
made a cheese-like paste when baked. It required no spices, it was
so flavorful. Edgar once spent a whole year trying to find a taste
on Earth analogous to tsano before he finally gave up. "Man, I'm
starved, Tazz! Better make it two!"

"You got it, my friend! You're the only guy I
know can eat a whole order and still have room for pizza. Me, I eat
like that I end up lookin' like a damn tsano!" Tazz' laugh, more
like the rumble of a volcano, filled the room and made Edgar think
of eating said tsano off of Tazz' naked ass. He was too respectful,
as a proper Andro should be, to make a pass, though. Tazz' wife
worked delivery at Antonia's and Edgar didn't poach in protected
territory.

"Luck of the draw, I guess," laughed Edgar.
"How are you and Trina, by the way?" Trina being Tazz' wife.

"We're as good as these Stix and twice as
hot!" Tazz joked. They were one of the happiest and most
affectionate couples Edgar had ever met so it was no surprise.
"When you gonna settle down, get 'chained?" Tazz asked the question
at least once every other call; a friendly jibe, all good
intentions. 'Chained' being the pie maker's abbreviation for "ball
and chain," the expression having survived into the twenty-fourth
century.

"You know me, Tazz," Edgar said, laughing.
"Gotta find the right one first. Six feet tall, prehensile dick,
can breathe through his ears…"

Edgar was thankful for the demise of the
handheld telephone; the laugh that boomed over the HC's comm unit
would've left his ears ringing. This was another inside joke of
theirs; Tazz asking when Edgar was going to settle down, Edgar
saying he needed to find the right man first. Edgar always changed
the right man's qualifications in ways designed to get Tazz to
laugh.

"Ah! Stop it, you!" the man said, catching
his breath. "I laugh that hard again, I'll piss myself! Got another
order comin' in, Eddie. Trina'll be there in about twenty."

"Got it, Tazz! Keep it fresh!" It was Edgar's
sign-off line with Tazz.

"Fresh, hot 'n' spicy!" came Tazz' reply.
"End call."

While he waited for his food, Edgar returned
Maddox' call. Once again, the nervous young man wasn't available,
so Edgar left another message. "Hey Maddox; it's Edgar! Sorry I
missed your call," he paused, "again. Let's keep trying; one of
these days we'll connect." He resisted signing off with 'tag,
you're it' as the game hadn't been played since the late
twenty-second century. Instead, he said, "I hope you're having a
good evening. Talk to you soon. End call."

True to Tazz' word, twenty minutes later the
HC announced that Trina was requesting access to Highland House.
Edgar approved her entry and moments later met her at the door. The
petite delivery woman was all smiles, her bubbly personality like a
shot of caffeine to Edgar.

"Edgar, hon! Good to see you, as always," she
said, handing him the food.

"You too, Trina! C'mon in!" Edgar replied.
They usually had a few minutes to visit when Trina delivered, but
tonight she declined.

"Love to, babe, but we're busy as hell
tonight so I can't," she said.

"No worries," Edgar said. "That means
business is good and you can't knock that, eh?"

"No, you can't," Trina replied. "But I sure
will be ready for the hot tub tonight! Have a great one, hon. We'll
catch up next time."

"Sounds good," Edgar said. "You have a great
one, too and enjoy that soak!" Trina turned and headed back toward
the elevator. The door closed and Edgar turned to attack the
delicious smelling food.

Forty-five minutes
later, Edgar had wiped out all but half an order of Stix and a
quarter of the pizza. Drinking deep from his second beer, he
surveyed the damage with a grin. He set the beer on the end table
and took the leftovers to the fridge. He still felt aroused from
the dream and decided, since Jace was never a bedmate, he should
take care of it before heading to Maxi's.

Edgar grabbed another beer from the 'fridge
and went back to the living room. Another deep drink and number two
was gone. He sat back on the sofa and ordered up the movie he'd
jerked to earlier, conveniently picking up where he'd left off.

Onscreen, the page was bent over the arm of
the Thraxian Emperor's throne, ass up, head down. The Emperor
flipped the boy's cloth wrap up onto his back, exposing the tight,
hairless globes of his ass. The Emperor shrugged and his own robes
slid to the floor. Taking his huge cock in hand, he rubbed its
thick mushroom head up and down the page's crack. In response, the
boy moaned and ground against the older man's cock.

Edgar was already wet, rubbing his pre-cum
over his own cock. He took a deep swallow of beer number three,
rubbing the sweaty bottle over his hard nipples. The Emperor was
slapping the page's ass with his veiny rod, telling him to "make
ready for a rough ride." The page responded by reaching back and
spreading his ass cheeks exposing the perfect pink rose of his hole
and moaning.

Without preamble, the Emperor put his
cockhead against the boy's tight hole and pushed. Both cried out as
the Emperor's rod popped past the page's muscular ring; the Emperor
from the slick hotness now sheathing him and the boy from the pain
of the sudden invasion. It didn't take long for the eager page to
adjust, however; he began bucking back against the older man,
panting lustfully. Encouraged by his display, the Emperor buried
his huge rod deep inside the boy with one mighty thrust. The page
whimpered and moaned while the Emperor began a brutal rhythm,
pounding the boy's ass furiously.

Edgar held his load for as long as he could,
keeping himself on the very edge of orgasm. The Emperor was
smacking the boy's ass hard enough to redden it, causing him to
tighten his hole even further as he jacked his own cock. A moment
later, the younger man screamed his orgasm and coated the throne
with his jizz, followed soon after by the Emperor who gave two last
thrusts before bellowing unintelligibly as he filled his page's ass
with thick, hot cum.

This sent Edgar over the top; he put the beer
down and grabbed his ballsack with his free hand tugging it low as
he pumped out another massive wad all over his chest. Smiling and
still breathing a little hard, he shut off the movie and finished
the last of his beer before heading to the bathroom to clean up. A
few minutes and a hot washcloth later and he was as good as new.
Totally relaxed and temporarily not horny, he brushed his teeth and
scented himself with Nag Champa, his favorite oil. He entered the
walk-in to choose the evening's outfit.

What to wear, what to wear? Maxi's is pretty
laid back, anything goes, really. Suits 'n' ties, jeans 'n' tees,
club wear - not that own any, glitter and gold lamé were never my
thing, you name it. I really don't feel like dressing up, though.
Jace'll probably show up in jeans; he's pretty casual. Well, at
least fashion-wise; he won't have a casual attitude tonight. Not
after dinner with Anice, in any case. Poor bastard. Even if I
wasn't an only child, I still couldn't stand a sib like her;
everything is a goddamn drama. Think I'll buy tonight; Jace
probably laid out the credits for dinner. Anice may have 'champagne
tastes', but she barely has a 'beer budget'. Ah! Perfect!

Edgar picked a pair of black jeans, the denim
broken in just so, and a robin's-egg blue polo. Grabbing a black,
woven-leather belt with a rectangular silver buckle and bright
white high-tops to finish it off, he took the clothes into the
bedroom. The jeans were so soft, he always went commando when he
wore them.

He went into the bathroom to check himself
out. After running a brush through his perpetually mussed hair, he
nodded and popped in his 'bud. The soft chime indicated the
device's activation. He grabbed his wallet, a thin leather-like
pouch that contained his ID and credit chip, and headed out.

Edgar was just in time to catch the
nine-thirty magna. He hopped on just a moment before the doors slid
shut. Technically, this wasn't procedure according to the transit
authority; for "safety reasons," they discouraged citizens from
last-minute boarding. However, Edgar had done it often enough to
know how to do it safely and the TA seemed to conveniently forget
that the magma's sensors would never allow the doors to shut on
anything with a pulse.

He grabbed a seat, ignoring the few stares
and eye rolls aimed his way in response to the late boarding. As
per usual, unless the scrutiny was of a medical or psy nature,
Edgar's level of concern was small to the point of being
undetectable. Rather than look sheepish or apologetic, he tossed
the passengers his best, brightest smile and 'fuck you' look.

He found a seat near the rear of the car, the
only space with at least one empty row between him and the next.
Someone on the magna, he'd noticed upon boarding, seriously needed
to become acquainted with soap and water. Edgar appreciated the
power of scent, even that of a man post-workout, but the musky funk
on this magna was not of the appealing variety.

Fortunately, it was stronger near the front
of the car and he was able to ignore the small trace that made it
to the car's rear. He spent the fifteen minute jaunt trying to
pinpoint the olfactory offender; he had it narrowed down to three
people: a ragged-looking teen boy, a thirty-something man in gym
gear, and a middle-aged woman wearing a clown-like amount of
rouge.