The following fictional story deals with sex among males. If you are offended by such material, are too young, or reside in an area where it is not allowed, cease reading now and depart. Though not observed in this story, care enough about yourself and humankind always to practice safe sex.
The author retains all rights. No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the author's consent.
Patrick Young ClayCub51@Yahoo.com
CLAY -- Chapter 9 "Welcome Home"
The phone rang. "Good morning, Clay Grant here."
"Good morning, Mr. Grant. My name is Warren Atwell, and I'm calling from Mayor Williams' office. Is this a convenient time for you to chat a few minutes?" a mellow baritone crooned.
Who did he say? Why did that name ring a bell? And the mayor? Of D.C.? Clay put down his coffee mug. "Sure, I've read the Post and conquered the crossword puzzle already, so the second cup can cool off. How can I help you, Mr. -- Atwell, right?"
The rich voice chuckled. " I like your style, Mr. Grant. But please, everyone knows me as Warren."
"Then its Clay here, okay, Warren?" Something familiar, warm seeped into Clay's being. Something very okay.
"Great, Clay. That's settled, then. I understand you have recently relocated to the District and may be open to a proposal I'd like to discuss with you, if I may."
"A proposal? From the mayor's office?"
"We're launching a program, Clay, that Mayor Williams believes will make a great difference among our various communities. It's new approach to personal power and enrichment so that all citizens of the District may experience their neighbors as partners. This may sound a bit nebulous, Clay, but your name has become known to Evan Wilds, the creator of the idea, and the team would like your input on fleshing out the possibilities. Will you come and share your wisdom with us?"
The circuits were smoking inside Clay's processor. This was too perfect! A paradigm shift in the making, and the honchos want MY perspective? Yeah, right. "Warren, are you certain you've got the right man?" Clay asked.
"Whomever Evan Wilds identifies as one to invite to join us in this project is credential enough for the Mayor, Clay. Are you free for lunch at the District Building today at noon? We would like to have a very informal and very casual gathering for Evan's overview and a short roundtable of feedback. Can you do it, Clay?"
The spiel was hypnotic, yet so true, so right. He surrendered utterly to the request. "Where shall I join you, Warren?" His cock lept.
"Our driver will fetch you at 1855 Calvert Street, 11:30 sharp. And please, Clay, jeans, sweats, suit, whatever, come as you are."
"I'll be ready, Warren. 11:30 sharp."
The baritone lowered. "I look forward to knowing you, Clay. And thank you."
Clay flushed, shuddered, his ass clenched. "Til noon, then."
"Claire Grant's office, Kitty Martin speaking."
`Chirping is more like it,' Clay mused. "Hey, sugar, it's Clay. Is she in?"
"Oh, hi! No, sir, the Sheik just arrived, so she's upstairs. Probably for the day. You know how THAT goes."
"Okay, then, just tell her I'm going downtown for a lunch meeting with some folks who want to -- well, pick my brain or some other body part. I'll check in once I'm done."
"Oh, yeah. Hehehehehe. Can do, sir," she twittered.
"And Kitty?"
"Yes, sir?"
"I'm just Clay, okay?"
"Yes, sir -- I mean Clay, sir." She twittered again.
The driver swung open the limo door and snapped to attention. Clay emerged and strode to the elevator. The card that the driver had given him said Mayor Anthony Williams sure enough, and on the back, in a vaguely familiar impeccable script, read "Evan Wilds, Empowerment Dialogue and Mentor Program, Suite 702." Clay flipped the card again. The mayor was Suite 701. Hmmmm.
The seventh floor of the renovated District Building was pure class. To the left, the Mayor's Office was traditional, subdued, frosted glass and blues. To the right, District Program Management was sleek, modern, energetic. Clay entered the door to his right and stopped cold. The man who smiled broadly and approached him could have been his twin! No handshake offered, he was engulfed in an intense hug.
"Thank you for coming, Clay," the voice from this morning hummed into the side of his neck. "I'm Warren. Evan is so pleased you've accepted." Clay's hands moved slowly to return the embrace.
When they broke, the glance between them was instantly warm, just like the phone conversation. Before Clay could speak, Warren whisked them through the next door, chattering discreetly into his ear about the gathering, his arm clutching Clay tightly to him around the waist. Forty-five people of every description, color, size, gender, and garb stood in rapt attention to the man speaking. That voice!' Clay thought. I know that voice!' His crotch swelled.
A passage through the crowd quietly opened for them as the man continued, "And so the mayor asked me to convene you, my friends and colleagues, and hear this vision of personal empowerment by knowing each other as partners in this life, this city, this world, neighbors and fellow citizens, creators of our shared possibilities. You all know me. You know that I know you and I love you. You know I require the best of you and desire only the best for you. You know that I claim you as my peers, and enlist you as my Circle, the pride. You know that we are in this together, totally surrendering to this relationship, this calling, this work, the shared dream of what our home can be. I am so grateful that you each have come into my life, into my heart, some of you into my bed," blushes and titters come from several sides, "all of you into my soul. I rejoice in your coming to me, joining your talents and life forces to live with and for and through each other. So now another of you has found his way to me, to the Circle. A very special resource of wisdom and perspective is joining us today, a fellow lion of the pride. He brings us his clarity, a way to make the possibility of `home' as we desire it a reality, right here and right now. I want you all to know Clay Grant."
A shock of applause deafened Clay as Warren's hands steered him to the center of the Circle. To -- COREY! To DADDY! Evan Wilds, the brilliant guru of the mayor's radical community-building project that was all over the news! One and the same man! The compact little muscle bear swaggered forward and gathered the blushing Clay in his strong arms, his beard tickling as he planted a wet smotch on Clay's cheek. "I knew you would do this, cub," he murmured. "You ready to make some loving happen? Give us your best stuff?"
"Here? You're kidding, of course!" All he got was a deep chortle. "Well, aren't you!?!"
"Just you wait, cubbo, you don't know what fun you're fixin' to have around here!"
The applause died down until Corey/Daddy/Evan held up his hand and cleared his throat. "Now, now, people, I didn't know he was going to show up so cute, either. And he's delicious, too!" Laughter bubbled from around the room. "So tell us the vision you bear us, Clay. How do you see us making it happen?"
Evan surreptitiously filled his hand with Clay's ass, the middle finger zeroing in on their claiming spot. Clay lurched forward with a shocked giggle, then reared back into the strong hand. Be a man,' the hand told him, step up! You're safe here. You can tell your whole truth.' Clay scanned the faces around him, wondering who else Evan had claimed as he had been. Maybe all of them? When he came around to Evan, he blushed, clinched, leaked, then took a deep breath. "Well," he began, "this certainly isn't your usual, boring Welcome to the Neighborhood'É and it sure beats a plate of cookies!" He caught sight of Warren, his almost twin, beaming back at him. Cub brother,' he realized, and felt a flood of excitement radiating from his heart to his crotch. "I can hardly believe Evan has included me in such company, but he did, so I better tell you about the conversation I had with him, about making a difference and living into greatness."
Suddenly he was relaxed, felt at home, so he told the story. "I landed in this great city by a set of circumstances that still baffles me, yet I feel now that here is where I need to be. My wife and I just moved to D.C. from the boondocks down South for her new job at the international bank, and I had no idea what I was going to do with a generic management r^Îsum^Î. But once we made the decision to move, life seemed almost charmed. We sold our place for more than we dared dream, so we could afford to buy this great little condo in Adams-Morgan, from one Warren Atwell, who subsequently turns out to be the linchpin in my tale. The move goes perfectly, my wife loves her new job, I start meeting these amazing people in out-of-the-ordinary ways, particularly THIS guy." He smiled down at Corey -- his Daddyman -- EVAN, who beamed back at him. "In a twist of mistaken identity, Mr. Wilds here comes calling on Mr. Atwell after his latest journey, only to find me where he had last left Warren, and it seems Warren and I have a lot in common. I always heard we all have a twin somewhere, but I never thought it was so until today. Meeting Warren was like looking into a mirror, and that's just too spooky!" Warren flashed a 1000-watt smile, his pants obviously tenting. "Poor bastard, to get stuck looking like me!" Warm laughter filled the room.
"I could have done a lot worse, Clay," Warren's mellow baritone countered playfully. "We'll have to compare notes." He was zeroed in on Clay's crotch, licking his lips with a wry grin.
A hot throb ran up Clay's shaft, flaring his corona, another drop of manhoney appearing. "Anyway, Evan takes to me just like Warren, it seems, takes me into his heart, and all of a sudden I become his cub, a member of his team, the Circle, claimed by a Lion. I'll spare you the details, being a man of -- relative -- discretion, but I've never had such a feeling of inclusion, of empowerment, of possibilities unfolding. This little powerhouse of a man listens to my dream of wanting to make a difference in life, by living greatly, by breaking barriers of misunderstanding, by honoring the dignity of every human being, by loving, loving boldly. He shows me a new way to express my love, my gifts, my life. I was honored. I was humbled. I was loved. But you all probably know how that feels." Nods and murmurs of assent echoed through gathering.
"I immediately have the opportunity to give it to someone else, to be the catalyst in the healing of two hearts badly wounded and in hiding. I didn't do anything spectacular. I just refused to believe the lie that these people weren't lovable. It was so simple: never let the fear of pain keep you from expressing your love to whoever comes to you and asks for it. Whenever, wherever, whomever, when your spouse or your brother or sister or parent or child or someone you never met before, ANYONE who asks you for your presence and love, just give it to them, every time. Give your truth. Share the healing. Spend the power. Loving is the only thing that generates even more of itself.
"Evan modeled that to me." He looked down at his mentor, whose strong hand was slowly making circles in the small of Clay's back, encouraging him, radiating his powerful support to Clay's every word, making his balls pulse with passion. "I don't know what he means about me bearing some vision, but I think we can each model love to our neighbors like he does, as freely and easilyÉ well, as how I love my wife: without restriction, without expectation, without ownership. As we partner in our homes, I believe I can now know anyone that fully, that we can partner with each other, as neighbors of this city, as citizens of the world. Kindness. Understanding. Dignity. Bring yourself, your unique gift. Can you surrender to a desire so great? Can you envision a world not bound to the small-minded limitations that our cultures program into us just to maintain the status quo? Can you imagine the entire population of the planet breaking into greatness? I can. I know Evan can. I suspect all of you can, since you're Evan's Circle. He sure knows how to make someone surrender!"
"Lovin's so much easier when you don't fight it, cub," Evan chuckled, as did the group.
"You taught me that, you magic little man, but I didn't put you together with this project and the city until just now. I don't know what I'm supposed to do, but I'm glad to be here, in your company, the Circle." Clay filled his hand with Evan's mighty bicep, filled his shorts with glorious manhood, filled his heart with powerful love, excitement, his future, as Evan had invoked. "I'm ready for greatness to show up with you. Thanks for including me."
The room exploded into applause and cheers. Evan engulfed Clay into his arms and planted his tongue down his throat, roaring with glee. "That's the way to fire em up, cub! You're the one with the words, all right. Now keep em coming. Welcome aboard, Clay. Welcome home!"
"Claire Grant's office, Kitty Martin speaking."
`Kitty the chirping bird,' he chuckled. "It's Clay again. Is she back?"
"Oh, yes, sir, she just came in. I'll put you right through, sir. One moment, please, sir," she sang.
"Thanks, Kitty." He shook his head. `Her family had to be military, poor child!' he mused.
Claire picked up. "You're out of your mysterious meeting?" She sounded tired, hurried.
"So you did get the message! You're not going to believe it, honey. Are you sitting down?"
"Yes, I'm off my feet finally. The sheik's a handful, but I got him calm and happy. So what happened? You sure sound excited."
"Do you recognize the name Evan Wilds?"
"Sure, he's the guy who created the mayor's new neighborhood action program," she replied. "He's supposed to be brilliant and quite dynamic. He's been all the buzz around the office today. The secretaries were talking about how sexy he was in the Post article about the program this weekend. Kitty even brought his picture in today. He's a bit wild looking with that bushy beard and short haircut, but oh, those eyes! I'll have to agree: he's definitely adorable."
"Well, I can vouch for that. Evan is who I met with today. I'm going to work with him!"
"Omigod, Clay, this is fantastic! How did that connection come about?"
"Are you sure you're sitting down?"
"Yep. So tell me already!"
"Remember Corey, the man I told you about, who I met last week?"
"The one you woke up in our bed with!?!? The madman who you said claimed you or whatever into this circle thing? What's he got to do with this? Does he know Evan, too?" She sounded worried.
"You'll be surprised to know that they are the same man, Claire," Clay said. "Evan Wilds goes by his nickname to his friends in the Circle. My Corey IS Evan Wilds. And he wants me to join the project team with him."
"Wait a minute! Evan Wilds is a nationally known organizer and power broker. This Corey sounded like the ringleader of a sex club. Are you sure you know what you're talking about?" she grilled him in rapid fire.
"Well, I know the man who loved me that night is the same man who invited me to the District Building today, and introduced me to the Circle. They sent a limo for me, brought me to District Program Management across the hall from the Mayor's office, and Evan Wilds named me his communications advisor. No debate, no consultation, just his announcement: I'm on the team, just like that. And the whole group, the Circle, welcomed me aboard as if I had been sent by the Dalai Lama himself. It was amazing!"
Claire soaked in the enthusiasm crackling across the phone line. "You mean the muscle man who took you in bed is the cute little guy heading the District Neighborhood project? That's quite a different credential than I imagined."
"I was so surprised to see him there leading the team, yet now it makes perfect sense. His charisma and power is so integrated, it exudes from him effortlessly whether he's in bed or the boardroom. And his energy and honesty is as freely expressed in either venue. He's committed to making this program work, and the Circle is the most diverse and connected network of people in the District: African, Asian, Hispanic, European, Native heritages, old and young, lesbian and gay, couples and singles, clerics of every religious tradition and vestment, Brooks Brothers to drag queens, large, petite and every dimension in between. They're all totally committed to him, too, and I can't blame them. I feel the same way: we can do this. He makes us believe we can, and shall." He choked up. "Claire, this is the conduit to making my difference!"
Claire heard her man's dilemma, then chuckled softly as she envisioned his dancing emerald eyes. "I think I may have jumped to the wrong conclusion about these men, then. I guess I'm more conventional that I thought, to see you in strange new company and feel threatened by them. I was worried if someone else had your attention I'd be pushed out of your heart to some lesser place. You aren't doing that. Neither of us would settle for some arrangement that was about appearance, to keep from embarrassment, would we? Meeting these men HAS been a good experience, and WILL be. Hmmm, Evan Wilds! Now that I've seen his picture and realize who I'm sharing you with, I certainly get the sexual attraction. No wonder you surrendered to him! I think I might have, too." She paused and let her own words sink in. "My husband, Clay Grant, the power player!"
Clay laughed heartily at the concept. "I am so excited, honey! Actually, Evan is very anxious to meet you. He suggested we get together with him and Warren as soon as you could. Want to go out and celebrate tonight? I can't wait to tell you about the conversation concept we're coming up with, and I certainly want you to know for yourself who I'm going to be keeping company with."
"Yes, I want to meet these guys, this Circle that's got you so fired up. If you're going to have men in your life that you love, I'm not going to stand on the sidelines and just watch you guys play. They've got to know I intend to play on your team, too!" They both laughed.
"I'm sure Evan and Warren will welcome you as they have me. They're so real, such astute people that they would recognize any pretense as unworthy of either of us. You're going to be so impressed with these fantastic men. And as soon as you see Warren, you'll understand a huge piece of the puzzle. We really do look alike -- it's like we're cosmic twins! No wonder Evan didn't care that night!"
"Hmmmm. Two of you. That gives me a wicked image!"
"Claire!! And you said I was badÉ"
"Hey, mister, you're not the only one open to new perspectives, now are you? Listen, I'm actually done here with the sheik for the day, so I'll tell Kitty I'm taking the rest of the afternoon off. This calls for champagne! Where do you want to go?"
"Evan will meet us wherever we decide. I have his private number from the other night, and I'm to call him with the details. How about La Colline on Capitol Hill?"
"Perfect! Champagne AND the city's best fois gras! Oh, Clay, I feel so much better about this. I wasn't being ridiculous, was I?"
"No, darling, I understand. I know this has been an unsettling week, but look what has come clear: our life here is evolving. We're both doing important work, with important, wonderful new people. And no matter what, we do it hand in hand."
"I love you, Clay. This is exciting!"
"I love you, Claire. I'll call Evan, and have them meet us at the restaurant in about an hour. We'll toast our new associates, and the future! God, you're in for such a blast of the most amazing energy! Are you up for this? I know I am!"
"Lead on, MacDuff. I'm with you!
"Okay, honey, see you in an hour."
TO BE CONTINUED
Thank you, my maestro, for inspiring me to persevere.
Comments and feedback to ClayCub51@yahoo.com