Max Fanizzi is a good looking Italian boy who has taken the reins of Guido's empire while Guido is in parts unknown. Where is Guido? What is he doing...? Parts unknown? It's like he's, um. Oh? Did a penny just drop? ...laying low... Guido is laying low. Am I normally that slow?
Max is shortish, trendy, with a huge smile, lots of thick, black hair. He's a qualified lawyer, but his party boy ways got in the way at his first law firm. He's sexy and has more personality than any one person deserves. He's a party boy, always out dancing, having a good time. He plays the stock market and is very good at it.
Vandel Caldera is the tough guy, big, athletic, broad shoulders, who enforces things when things need to be enforced, apparently, whatever that means. I didn't ask. He has a tendency to wear blue singlets and jeans. He owns a group of gyms and does very well.
Scott Lara is a strapping, all Aussie boy, ex-football captain, head master's first eleven, tall, good looking, you know the type. He's the financial brains behind the whole operation. He's made them all rich, all before thirty.
You might pick Max as gay, maybe, maybe not. Third generation son of Italian immigrants. No one would ever pick Van - but he likes nothing more than cute, young party twinks with fine... um... er, fits to their jeans, shall we say. Scott's every parent's dream son, on paper, masters in accounting, investment houses in the inner suburbs. But, he's a complete pig with his snout in the trough, when it comes to, shall we say good times, real or manufactured and men.
Max and Van are ex lovers, as are Max and Scott.
Guido, of course, is the Pied Piper of this gang. Max is his play thing, when it suits him. As Scott is Van's. They party hard, together.
Max tells me stuff. As does Guido. Not sure why. I often wonder if I'm special, or do they tell all their clients? They couldn't, they'd be...
The country was great, relaxing, blah, blah, blah. Well, it could have been, if every man and his dog didn't decide to take a drive to the country, after Xmas. Oh, yes, splendid! Shall we? Lets shall? It was like fucking Bourke Street. When some old friend who we haven't seen in ten years, decided it was a nice afternoon for a drive, I bailed, yesterday lunch time. Family, grand parents. Raymond and some old expats, without Adam. Andrew our comedian friend and his wife and kids. A couple of old party buddies. Even Sebastian rolled his eyes and smiled his cute-boy smile, exhaled loudly and said, enough, in his sexy Italian accent.
Luke rolled me a joint and the whole drive home I was thinking about sucking up a few herbs, the house to myself, recharge before New Year. Matt got me a ticket to Nurse Betty. I had to see Max.
I thought I might drive straight over to his place, get it over and done with, before I hit home. You know, you're bound to get into trouble if you leave it half organised at New Year. As I turned the corner, into Max's street, he was sliding a large, black suit case into the back of his sleek, black SRI. He was going to Byron. Ten days.
I tooted, flashed my lights and roared to a halt, in the middle of the road, leaped out of the car and practically said, I'm chasing!
"Running low, my boy?" Straight face Max.
"Low but not out. It would be great if you had some," I said. I was mustering my best debating team argument. Max's face broke into a bemused smile, as he closed the hatch.
"I've just got a ticket to the day party. Come on Max, it was last minute..."
He stepped forward, looked left, looked right, put his finger to his lips and whispered. "Scott and Van are inside. Go to go." Big smile. He leaped into his car - the SRI and the GTI looked good together. Black hat, white hat, in the wild old west - and accelerated away.
The front door was open, ambient music reached out and met me. I walked in. It smelled of a party.
Van was sitting in the couch in his y-fronts. Scott was sitting between his legs, in grey tracksuit pants, with his head resting on, what looked like, Van's semi-hard cock. Big bulge. They were playing some sort of dual control game on the TV. They were both completely out of it. Sweating. Red-faced.
"On the coffee table," said Scott. "Yeah! Max left something, you just missed him."
Van has magnificent thighs, hairy, thick. Big feet. I opened and closed my mouth. He clippers his chest, obviously.
"He said you'd be around, at some stage," said Van. "I'm surprised you didn't see him... Got you!" They both cheered.
The two of them looked incredible. Staring at the television screen, twitching, jumping, their eyes only looking at me furtively. Smiling. Laughing.
I picked up my yellow envelope. I got my wallet out.
"Nah," said Scott.
"Another time, bro," said Van.
I'm sure neither of them had looked at me. It was a spooky moment. A chill ran up my spine. I put my wallet back in my back pocket.
Van's got this amazing chest and shoulders and arms. Muscley. There is nothing as sexy as muscular arms. Scott has great abs with a trail of hair that disappears down into his thin cotton pants, which had managed to cling to his skin from sweat and from where I was standing, it was rapped up neatly like a lamb kebab. Yum!
"You can stay and watch if you want," said Van.
"But...," said Scott. His glance my way, very much said, but you can't. I didn't want to, anyway.
Bottom, for sure, I thought. A part from the fact, Max told me. Aggressive bottom, from all accounts.
"Feels less of a man for wanting it up the patootie, in the first place," grinned Max. "So he makes up for it with blokey aggression when he's getting boned."
I closed the door on the way out.
I laughed, as I drove away. How desperate did I sound to Max, when I jumped out of the car? He'll say something when I next see him, bound to. "You should have seen Christian." he'll announce with a cheeky smile. I know he will. I tried not to feel embarrassed, but I did. Wondered what it said about me? I'll have to ask David. We'll have to consult the happy cards, for sure.
I looked at the yellow envelope on the black leather of the passenger seat. What did I care, anyway. I was all set for New Years Day, despite no planning what so ever. I smiled all the way home. Nothing to do but rest until then.
Except, Priscilla, tonight. It should be good.
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