THE GENTLEMEN'S CLUB
Dermot

Written by Lady Poetess
egiggles at moose-mail.com
http://www.asstr.org/~bbp

Please do not reproduce on any website without permission. This
story has no resemblance to anyone dead or alive.

ONE

It was twelve fourteen a.m. in the morning. Benjamin Stiller,
sober and easy-going English lit professor by day, was whispering
softly into his cell phone in the darkness of the living room. His
partner, George Leonard, had slept their bedroom, or rather, the
bedroom they used to share before George's disease required them
to convert that room into a nursing room. Ben couldn't sleep
amidst the soft sounds of the hemodialysis machine then. Now he
still couldn't sleep even though George had been buried a year
ago. If he closed his eyes and listened hard enough, he could
still hear George's silent breathing.

"Tell me about your date," he asked the man at the other end.

He was talking to Dermot Mulroney, his brother-in-law. While Ben
was steady, Dermot was an incorrigible playboy who vowed once,
when they were drunk, that he would never ever settle down with
any man. Yet Dermot had arrived at Ben's door at two in the
morning, two years ago, drunk and grief-stricken over the death of
his mother, and Ben had taken the man in and let the man slept off
his hangover on the couch. Dermot treated Ben like a good friend
ever since.

In fact, Dermot didn't even blink when Ben asked him to describe
his sexual exploits. He didn't ask, and Ben didn't tell him that
he needed to hear Dermott's excesses since he was dying from
frustration. Before he succumbed to kidney failure, George had
been impotent after a stroke, and now Ben was slowly going mad
from sexual frustration. And listening to Dermot had been a "non-
cheating" way of reprieve that he carried on as a habit long after
George's passing.

"Come on, Ben, you don't want to hear that," Dermot said. It was a
game, where he would always be reticent and Ben would coax him
into telling. "It's late, go to sleep."

"What? No one in your bed tonight?" Ben asked.

"Well, not tonight," Dermot said, and Ben could see the man smile
in his mind. "I have to finish some medical reports due tomorrow."

"Why? Playing hooky at work today?"

"Well, the Bastard begged me for it, so I gave it to him at my
office, right at my table, the whole evening."

The Bastard was Dermot's superior. Dermot was a laboratory
technician.

"So you did fuck him last night," Ben remarked.

"Yeah. I have to. Can't have him bossing me all the time. He even
apologized to me this morning for yelling at me yesterday
afternoon, right before begging for a chance to blow me."

Ben slipped his hand into his shorts and bit back a sigh as his
fingers closed around his fast-hardening cock. "So how did you
fuck him last night?"

"Well, I started simple. First I sucked his tits, nibbling on them
until he begged me to stop. He wanted me to blow him, but I threw
him over his back and gave it to him hard instead. Damn, but that
ass was hot. Tight and hot, I swear my cock only got harder in
that ass. He screamed, saying he wasn't ready, but I put my hand
over his mouth and fucked him good."

"Oh yeah." His hand moving faster over his shaft, Ben closed his
eyes. "Did he fight you?"

"He tried. But he wanted it bad, Benny boy, and his ass was rising
even as he tried to push me off. And when I finally let him speak,
his first words were `Harder!'"

"And did you come, D?"

"Not up his ass. I made him suck my dick, and he licked me clean,
even though it had just been up his ass. I keep fucking his ass
until I was about to come, then I pulled out and made him lick me
clean. When he had begged enough, I let him suck me until I came
in his mouth. He swallowed every fucking drop, and even then he
kept moving his mouth up and down my half-hard cock until I'm hard
again. Just wouldn't stop until I came three more times. I haven't
met anyone who enjoyed drinking come like him. Shit, but his mouth
was good."

Ben was moving his hips in rhythm with his hands now. "Oh, that is
so hot," he said brokenly as his breathing became more rapid.

"Ben, are you jerking off?"

"No," Ben said, then bit back a hiss as he shuddered, his semen
shooting a wide arc onto his chest and stomach even as he tensed
and gasped in his orgasm. "Oh fuck!"

"Jesus, Ben, go call up one of those sex lines if you're that hard
up," Dermot said, but he didn't sound mad. "Is that why you keep
calling me about my sex life?"

"Yeah," Ben said, still panting from his climax. He rubbed his
hand wearily over the stains on his stomach and licked his palm.
"I'm sorry, D."

"Whatever for? You just need to go out and get laid. How long has
it been?"

"One year and eleven months and counting."

"And you've been doing without since then? Fuck, I'll go mad if I
were you. Look, I can set you up with some nice willing stud if
you want."

"No."

"In fact, drop by my place this Friday evening, seven o' clock.
I'll bring you to somewhere nice."

"No, D. It doesn't feel right."

Dermot snorted in derision. "So you'll just call me up when the
mood hits you?"

"Do you mind?" Ben asked timidly.

Dermot was silent for a few seconds, then he answered, "No, I
don't."

"So tell me about the fuck at your office."



Dermot Mulroney wiped his face as he sat heavily at the seat
outside the squash court.

"Hey wimp, don't tell me you're tired already," Brian Littrell
said challengingly as he stood at the court door, swinging his
racquet. "Heavy night?"

"Not the way you think. I talked to Ben all night."

"Ben who? Affleck or your brother-in-law?"

"Brother-in-law. The one I told you about, whose partner died?"

"HIV?" Brian asked.

"Liver and kidney failure - George always drank too much for his
own good. They have been living together for ten years. Ten years
- can you imagine that? I can't even see myself with a same man
for a week."

"So what did you talk about?" Brian asked, sitting beside Dermot.
He reached for his water bottle and took a hearty gulp.

"Sex." Dermot sighed as he looked thoughtfully across the room.
"George hadn't been able to give him any when he was alive and now
Ben was doing without, and he's feeling real hard up. Since he
refuses to find a lover, he asks me to tell him my sexual
adventures instead."

Brian burst into laughter. "That's fucking funny," he managed to
say. "I bet he has a large collection of porn to jerk off to as
well."

"I wouldn't be surprised."

Brian sobered. "So why are you looking so troubled? It's not like
you to be serious."

"Ben helped me through a hard time in my life when my mother died
of cancer," Dermot said. "I want to help him."

"D, I'm surprised. You do have a heart."

"Well, I believe doing good once every few years wouldn't harm my
conscience." Dermot turned to Brian. "Any ideas, Bri?"

"He wouldn't go on a date?"

"Refused point blank."

"Buy him a vibrator."



The idea hit Ben when he was discussing the finer points of Yeats
to his students. As he had two meetings and a discussion panel to
see to after the lecture, he couldn't consider the idea closely
until late evening. He couldn't see any flaw, so he decided to
carry it out. The euphoria he felt upon that resolution convinced
him that this was the right thing to do.

Hence, here he was on Friday night, knocking on Dermot's door.

"Hi," Dermot said with a smile as he answered the door.

Ben didn't actually see Dermot often, although they talked over
the phone often, since both led different lives across opposite
ends in New York. Whenever he saw Dermot up close, he could never
fail to admire the man's dark beauty. Dermot had an open, cheerful
face that could brood as well as charm in equal devastation.
Handsome yet not too handsome to be threatening, he lured men
easily into his bed. It also helped his success rate that he was
charming and persistent.

Now that Ben was considering an affair with him, Dermot's handsome
looks took on a more personal and intimidating perspective. Ben
himself wasn't a handsome man, but he looked okay enough, he
guessed, with his flat face and elegantly sculptured facial bones.
He had never played the field, having been with George and only
George.

"I want to have an affair with you," he blurted.

Dermot only stared at him blankly for a long while. "What?" he
said finally.

"You're right. I ought to have an affair, and I've decided to do
so. But I'd like to sleep with a man I know pretty well, and one
who will happily plunge into a no-strings affair. You. So how is
that?" Ben said, his words stumbling in rapid quickfire in his
nervousness.

"No way!" Dermot exclaimed.

"Why not?" Ben demanded. "I'm not good looking enough for you? You
fucked the Bastard and you told me he was fifty pounds
overweight."

"That's different. That's a revenge fuck, dummy. I can't fuck you.
It's obscene."

"That never stopped you before with others."

"They weren't my brother-in-law and good friend," Dermot shot
back.

That took the wind out of Ben's sails. He had no idea how to press
his suggestion or even be seductive. "Uhm, I see," he said.

"Oh for fuck's sake, if you want to get laid with someone you
know, go out with a few guys and get to know them a bit better,
than fuck them."

"I don't know how," Ben admitted sheepishly. "George was the only
man I dated and eventually married."

Dermot opened the door wide. "Come in."

Ben sat back on the couch ten minutes later and studied Dermot's
animated face. "I'm not like you, D. I can't just meet someone and
get them in bed."

"Go on a few dates, that's all I'm saying," Dermot said patiently.
"I'm not asking you to start a one night stand."

"I want a short, meaningless affair. I don't think I'm up to
having another long-term relationship."

"Okay. So I'll set you up with some of my friends?"

Ben took a deep breath. He didn't know why he felt nervous. It had
been over a year, and he wasn't betraying George. Still, he was
nervous. "Can you teach me how to be a little more, uh, flirty?"
he asked finally.

"Flirty?" Dermot repeated in disbelief.

"Be more, I don't know, debonair. Like you."

"No way. You're being ridiculous, Ben. It's not as if you're butt
ugly," Dermot told him. "You are. well."

"Well?" Ben challenged him.

"Funny?" Dermot finished sheepishly.

"So you'll help me?"

"Do I ever have a choice?"


TWO

This wasn't so bad, Ben thought as he turned in front of the
mirror, admiring his new clothes. He could get used to this. The
blue of his shirt brought out the green in his eyes, and while
there wasn't anything that can be done about his (lack of) height,
he didn't look too bad.

Of course, these clothes wouldn't come cheap, even if Michael
Biehn, who designed them, was persuaded by Dermot to cut down the
prices. But Ben felt alive for the first time in months, and if
the price were a few thousand dollars, he wouldn't mind paying.

True to his word, Dermot had - reluctantly - taught Ben to be
flashier. Ben wardrobe was the first project. Inside, however, he
wasn't sure which accorded the greater pleasure: walking along
stores with Dermot on Sunday evenings or looking in the mirror and
seeing himself come to life. He turned to Dermot, who was ignoring
Ben and flirting with the salesgirl. "How do I look?"

Dermot straightened, and for a second a pained look crossed his
face before it was gone. "Great," he just said. "Are we done?"

On his part, Dermot was suffering inside. He was confused, because
he found himself looking forward to their weekend excursions
around town. After all, he was supposed to be fucking his dates,
not taking Ben shopping. And it terrified him that when he saw Ben
enjoying himself, he felt a sharp pain in his heart. He hadn't
felt this pain ever since he was fifteen and had an impossible
crush on the football captain.

"Why aren't you answering my calls?" Ben asked, catching Dermot by
surprise.

What could he say? That the idea of bragging about his sexual
conquests to Ben, once a perversely amusing hobby, had somehow
became discomfiting? "I've been busy," he answered brusquely,
hoping Ben would take the hint and change the subject.

"Care to tell me about them?"

"No." Dermot pushed Ben into the passenger seat of his car. "Now
shut up and I'll drive us to dinner."

"No weekend date?"

"No, you are my weekend date."

"You don't have to do this if you don't like it," Ben said.

"Who said I don't like it? I'm enjoying myself."

"No you're not. You looked as if you're the one doing without."

"Fine," Dermot snapped. "You're ruining my sex life. I'm supposed
to be dating a hot-blooded model tonight, but you wanted me to
stay at home and tell you sex stories. I'm doing without, Ben, and
it's been one week. That's a new record for me."

"Sorry," Ben said, although his voice indicated that he was more
amused than sorry. "Okay, I'll ask Biehn to help me. He's doing a
better job than you anyway. Go home to your male bimbos."

"You like my male bimbos," Dermot snapped.

Ben only opened the car door and stepped out.

"Damn it, Ben, get back in here. I'm an ass, a bad-tempered ass,
okay? Ben, you fucking better get back in here."

Ben's reply was a finger and a grin before he walked away.



"Ben Stiller's dating," Brian reported gleefully. "He's going out
with our very own Rupert."

"Are they fucking?" Dermot asked. His hold slipped, and the squash
racquet crashed onto the floor.

"How the hell would I know? It's not that bad, D, they're double
dating. With Guy and his old bastard Harry."

"I don't care," Dermot said. He was seething inside, however. Ben
hadn't called him for three weeks. Finally, Dermot broke down and
called Ben, only to get his answering machine. Sixteen messages
later, Ben still hadn't called. And damned if Dermot didn't miss
that man. "Let him fuck anyone he wants."

"You sound jealous," Brian murmured.

"Why should I? Maybe now we can exchange sex stories, he and I."

But he was jealous. He knew he had lost his head when he found
himself standing across the street from the restaurant Ben and
Rupert were dining. And when those two walked out at ten laughing,
Rupert's arm around Ben's shoulder, Dermot could only stare
daggers. What was wrong with him? Did he really want to fuck Ben
that much? He hadn't even entertained that idea before, but now,
he couldn't think of anything else.

At eleven he watched Rupert walked out of Ben's door. Resisting
the urge to hop into his car and run Rupert down, he dialed Ben's
number on his phone instead. The answering machine greeted him.
Fuck! He dialed again, and again, and finally threw the phone hard
against the glass window.

Hence it was probably acceptable that Ben took a step back when he
opened the door for Dermot. The latter probably looked like the
devil himself in his agitated state. "What are you doing here?"
Ben asked.

"I can't stop thinking about you," Dermot answered simply.

They looked at each other, and Dermot wondered if his heart was in
his eyes for Ben to see. Maybe that was why their lips somehow met
and melded into a bruising, urgent kiss. Maybe that was why Ben
was tearing at Dermot's shirt, and Dermot was biting gently into
Ben's neck and shoulders even before they reached the bedroom.
Whatever the reason was, Ben found himself flat on his back, his
open shirt fluttering around his body as Dermot hungrily kissed
and tasted every inch of bare skin on his chest and torso. That
clever mouth gently nibbled and teased Ben's nipples to erect
attention before moving down the trail of hair to the navel,
Dermot's hands pulling Ben's pants open. Then Dermot's mouth was
on his cock, engulfing him in maddening wet and heated velvet.

Ben couldn't control himself. First touch of that tongue on his
cock head and his balls contracted. "Oh man," he cried as he
thrust his hips forward. Dermot's eyes widened at the surge of
semen flooding his mouth, but he swallowed nonetheless. Then Ben
was turned over, and now that mouth was at his anus, reaming it
slowly but sensually, tracing the muscular pucker before surging
inside. Ben could only squirm in pleasure. Dermot's finesse was as
he boasted. Ben could only sigh as he felt his pleasure pool, then
exploded in another ejaculation. Dermot's fingers played with his
prostate even after the shudders of climax long ebbed.

"Are you going to fuck me now?" Ben asked weakly.

"Can you feel this?" Dermot answered.

Ben felt the wet tip of Dermot's cock pushing against his anus. He
shivered in anticipation, then was rewarded by the delicious pain
of his ass stretching to accommodate Dermot. The pain wrecked him,
along with white-hot pleasure of being filled slowly, inch by
inch. It had been so long, and he had almost forgotten the
glorious feel of cock. His fingers clawed into his sheets as he
slowly lost himself to Dermot's steady, pounding rhythm. Each
withdrawal to the tip almost turned Ben inside out, and each full
thrust to the hilt sent Ben screaming in ecstasy.

Dermot drew out the fuck as long as he could. When he felt his
orgasm rising, he slowed his thrusts into long, deep ones, until
he felt more in control. Then he was pounding into Ben with short,
hard stabs. And for the hell of it, he varied his rhythm, once
deep and then shallow rhythms until Ben begged for mercy and asked
him to shoot. Only when Ben screamed through his fifth orgasm did
Dermot let loose his climax. And as his semen flooded Ben's
insides, he cried out the man's name.



"That's just what I need," Ben said when Dermot finally rolled off
him. "The father of all fucks. I thought you're just bragging, but
now I see your prowess is quite up to the rumors."

"I never lie about my fucking," Dermot said, offended at the very
idea.

"I know now you didn't," Ben said with a languid stretch of his
body. He felt as if he had been totally demolished and he loved
it. George had never fucked him this good. had he? "Thanks D."

"No problem at all," Dermot said. "I'm sorry I burst in on you
tonight. Why didn't you answer my calls? I'm so worried."

"Really?" Ben asked. "I thought you're mad with me."

"No longer," Dermot said. He grinned crookedly as he reached to
play with Ben's right nipple. "I think I'm mad about you though."

"Does this mean you'll have a fling with me?"

"Yeah." Dermot moved to place his thigh over Ben's. "So what do
you think, Benny boy? Care for another round?"

"I'm sore," Ben protested gently. He shut up however when Dermot's
mouth found his cock.



Feeling tad silly, Dermot knocked on Ben's door the following
night. The bouquet of violets in his hand might be pushing it a
bit, but he couldn't help it. He had thought about it long and
hard, and he decided that maybe it was time he try settling down.
With Ben. It seemed weird to stick to one same man, but with Ben,
it didn't seem much of a hardship.

"Hi," Ben said when he opened the door. "For me?"

"Yeah." Tongue-tied for the first time in his life, Dermot could
only grin. "For you."

"Thanks. Come in?"

"Ben, will you marry me?" Dermot asked.

Ben's mouth fell open. "You're kidding," he said when he finally
could.

"No. I've thought about it. I am willing to settle down with you."

"You think. May I know why you want to settle down now?" Ben asked
dryly.

"I just feel it, Ben. You feel right." Dermot knew he was bungling
it, but he had no idea how else to adorn his words. "With you, I
feel content and there's no need to fuck to prove my manhood."

"No."

The answer was like a punch in his gut. "What?"

"No. The answer's no."

"Why?" Dermot could only ask.

"I know you, D. You are a serial tomcat. You'll never be content
with me. You're not even a nice man when it comes to love, and
you've told me yourself how you treat your sex partners with
disdain for giving in to you."

"That's not. I." Trapped by his own words, Dermot could only
looked at Ben with desperation in his eyes. "I will change, Ben. I
can change, and I will, for you."

"No." Ben said, his voice only wavering slightly. "You're a good
fuck, but damn it, you're supposed to know this is a temporary
thing. I don't want a long term relationship."

"Don't do this to me," Dermot said.

"Goodnight D," Ben said gently, and closed the door.

"No!" Dermot shouted then, and started kicking and pounding at the
door. "Ben, damn it, open up this fucking door! We're not
finished, you hear me? No one says no to me. Open the fucking
door!"

The cops had to drag him away.



THREE

"Guy, can I ask you a question?"

It was three days later and Ben was sitting at a deli with Guy
Pearce.

"Yeah? Shoot," Guy said.

"Harry's almost thirty years older than you. Aren't you afraid
that one day you'll have to, you know, take care of him?"

"I am. I think he feels the same too, but we're taking it one day
at a time." Guy shrugged. "I'm not kidding myself, of course.
Harry could only be sexually active for another ten or fifteen
years if we're lucky, and I'll be like you eventually, catering to
a much older and invalid man who couldn't satisfy me sexually. Is
that what you're asking?"

"Yeah," Ben said, embarrassed slightly. "Taking care of George was
like hell, especially because I love him so. But it's so hard
because of the loneliness."

"I can guess. But I don't care, Ben, because Harry's worth it."

Guy seemed so secure and confident that Ben envied the man at the
moment. A skeptical part of him whispered that it was all due to
Guy's naivete. Let Guy experience it for himself and he would
change his tune.

"Harry gave up a life of tomcatting around for me. If I'm not
mistaken, that's what Dermot is offering to do for you, yes?" Guy
asked with keen perception. "Do you believe him?"

"I don't know. I've listened to his exploits, and he really
treated his partners bad. Do you know he fucked his supervisor as
a way of getting back at the man? It was all a game of subjugation
to him. I don't want to be another one of his conquests."

"You already are," Guy said bluntly. "He's already had you, right?
So why is he leaving phone messages and trying like hell to see
you? He could have just walked away."

"You think I ought to give him a chance? Is any man worth the
risk?"

"I think it's a bit more complicated than that. Whether or not you
want Dermot, you should open up and start living. Stop hiding
behind George's last years on earth." Guy shook his head. "Can I
order my lunch now?"



"Hi."

Dermot scowled at the man outside his door. "Hi," he said curtly.

Ben smiled nervously. "Am I too late in taking up your proposal?"

"No." Dermot looked even more thunderous. "Fuck it, no."

"Then can I come in?"

"If you dare," Dermot said, standing aside.

Ben let go of the breath he was holding. "Screw around on me and
I'll break your neck."

"Fair enough," Dermot said. "Take off your clothes. I haven't had
ass for three days now. Maybe after a few hard fucks I can bring
myself to be the nice and even forgive you."

Ben heard the door close behind him and worked on his shirt
buttons.
