“When in Rome, do as the Romans do,” Hermes Calderone said under his breath.
The man standing next to his at the gay bar in Manhattan went by the name Apollo, The
Thunderbolt, Made from pure granite, he danced on stage as if he was born to it.
“A penny for your thoughts,” Hermes said.
The hunk smiled and gazed at his semi-nude body like a hungry tiger.
“Hey, my name is Hermes, they call me Helios for short because of my fine ass.” Hermes
turned to show off his tight buns, and then wiggled his skimpy, pink Speedo-covered ass.
Do you like it?
“I'm a dancer here, and they love me. Look at their faces, the little chicas. I want
to take them all home with me. See those two hotties over there? We had a threesome the
other night and oh-la-la! I can introduce you if you like, no?” His thick Hispanic accent
drifted in the air. “Here mommy, I buy you a drink; you look like you need one. I get you
a Bahama Mama with one of those umbrellas, okay? Or would you rather have a Pink Lady?”
Apollo shook his head. “I already have a Long Island iced tea with a whiskey chaser. The
combo calms me before I go on stage, and allows me to get loose.”
“Ah, chica, whatever floats your boat. But inquiring minds want to know. I can see by all
the eyes watching your gorgeous charms I am not the only one. Are you taken?” Hermes took
a sip of his drink.
“Actually, I'm not. I’ve had too much heartache and my relationships don't last
long.” Appollo shrugged. “I’m free spirit who goes both ways. you know?”
When Apollo took a seat close to the bar and placed his drink on the table, Hermes wasted
no time in joining him. “You see that hottie over there? He pointed toward the right side
of the room. “He loves big strong men with big dicks, mommy. I see him looking you over;
he wants you. His name if Carlos, but we all call him Eros because he is our sneaky little
matchmaker.”
Apollo laughed. “So I've noticed! I'd stay clear away from him if I were you,
he’s trouble.”
“He thinks I'm sexy, wants to kiss me and grab my ass. Touch it. I know you want to.
It's so firm; touch it, chica. You can bounce a quarter off it. Am I not eye candy?
You depress me, mommy. Should I tell Eros to shoot you with an arrow? Maybe that would
wake you up?”
Apollo chuckled and glanced away from the stranger looking at him. “I will shoot him with
an arrow just for being a traitor.” He turned to Hermes, grabbed the collar of his shirt,
and tugged it firmly. “If you so much as imply that you expect us to become a couple, and
his arrow pierces me, I’ll stick my staff so far up your ass it’ll come out your mouth.”
Apollo let him go, turned away, and walked out the door of the night club.
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