PUNKS Ch. 30: Dirty Little Secrets

"Do you still see her?"

"It's been a long time. We lost touch after I got married."

"Do you still have her number?"

"Oh, shut up. Let me ask you this, Joe. Would you do a glory hole?"

"I don't suck dick, T."

"Haha. You know what I mean."

"Okay." Joe exhaled. "The thing about the place you're talking about is you know a woman is sucking your dick, so that's a big deal for me. I don't do dudes. Knowing it's a woman on the other side of that dirty hole increases the likelihood I would roll the dice."

"I thought you might."

"You know how much I love having my cock sucked."

Tina went quiet. Joe figured the story was over. He started telling Tina about Patty Sullivan, the girl in his Venice hood with a slutty reputation because she fucks a lot and talks too much. Tina interrupted him.

"Joe. I trust you more than any man. You know my biggest secret, because my affair with you is that secret. I do have another."

"Okay."

"I went to that bar with Kim."

"Holy shit! Seriously, T? You sucked a cock through a glory hole? Oh my God, this is huge!"

"Don't jump to conclusions! Jesus, Joe."

"Sorry."

"I just wanted to check the place out. Kim had invited me a few times. I'd just laugh at her, but I was curious. Then one night I said, "Fuck it. Let's do this."

"This is good, T. I love this story now that you're in it."

"We made a date and Kim was right. It's a dark and strange bar, kind of a dive, but not too bad. She showed me where to sit so I could see the men's room. We had a couple of drinks and then Kim took me into the ladies' room and showed me the closet."

"Is it tiny?"

"No, it's pretty big actually, and they stacked boxes so you can't see the hole from the doorway. You must walk in and scoot sideways behind the boxes of paper napkins and cleaning supplies. And there it is... the glory hole. There were things I didn't think of going in, but they made sense."

"Like what?"

"There was a pillow on the floor for your knees. The wall is painted black and there's a vinyl like material around the hole so guys don't gash their cocks on the rough plywood."

"Easy cleaning too."

"I guess so. The hole isn't wide open. There's a black cover made of that fabric, like a curtain."

"It's a penis puppet show."

Tina laughed. "Yeah, you could say that. The fabric hides the hole too."

"So you just went there to check it out?"

"Yes. Kim closed the door and locked it. There's a dim light bulb with a chain hanging from the ceiling. It's so seedy, but I think that adds to the dangerous feeling."

"I could be wrong, but I don't think there are luxury glory holes."

"I was told there are high-end glory holes in Manhattan."

"Sign me up for one of those."

"The light bulb is just enough to see what you're doing in there. Kim and I are talking and giggling and there's a knock on the wood."

"Holy fuck!"

"Yeah, and Kim knocked back."

"Oh, my God. Really? Did you see a dick? This is great."

"And a big dick appeared. It wasn't really long, but it was a nice fat brown cock with a pinkish head. Kim smiled at me and didn't think twice. She was on her knees in two seconds stroking that meat. Then she starts sucking on the head."

"So you watched Kim suck a dick through the glory hole. Amazing."

"Yeah. Then she stops, looks up, and offers me a turn."

Tina stopped, creating a cliffhanger. She waited and waited.

"What the fuck, T. Did you suck it?"

"No. I waved her off, and she kept sucking. I could hear the man on the other side moaning. Kim was going to town on that fat mystery cock. I wanted to get the fuck out of there, but I was afraid to open that door while she was blowing a dude, so I just watched her."

"You weren't even tempted? Watching her sucking a big dick didn't make you horny?"

"It definitely did. I was feeling it. She looked up again and said, "C'mon, have a taste. It's delicious."

Tina waited again... and waited."

"Now you're just teasing me."

"I did it, Joe."

"No way."

"Do you think I'd confess to a nasty slutty sex act if I didn't do it?"

"I can't believe this."

"I got down on my knees. Kim moved over. I wrapped my fingers around him and took that fat, brown, cock in my mouth. When I got that salty taste on my tongue, I nearly pissed myself. It was so fucking hot, Joe. I never felt so filthy in my life, and I loved it. I sucked that cock long and hard, took the head as deep as it would go, and just enjoyed myself."

"Unbelievable." Joe was not sure this story was real. He was enjoying Tina's glory hole tale but he didn't know if she was revealing a dirty little secret from her past or if she was making this story up to excite him. Either way, he was along for the ride.

"Then the dude says, 'Are there two over there?' and Kim laughed hard while I had my lips around him, my mouth filled with meat, so he knew I wasn't alone."

"Technique. He could tell a different cock sucker was on him. It's not hard to tell the difference."

"Yeah, Kim doesn't go real deep. She sucks the head a lot and she has a rapid stroke. I was long and deep and slow."

"I'm sure he didn't protest either way."

"No. After that we tagged-teamed him. Two mouths, together and taking turns. She stroked him while I sucked his cock. We traded jobs. We licked the sides of his shaft at the same time. She kissed me, his head between our lips. I kissed her back. We licked and sucked and stroked him until he shot his load."

"Who got the Cracker Jack prize?"

"She did, but Kim pulled off when he filled her mouth. Cum was dripping down her chin. I took over, sucked him more, and drained him, swallowing the rest of his load and just kept sucking as his dick got soft."

"You do like sucking a softening cock. Wow. I'm stunned, T. This is amazing."

"You should have heard him. He was way too loud. We got up and got the fuck out of there."

"I can't believe you sucked a cock through a glory hole. I'm shocked and hard as a rock right now. Jesus, T. I have a raging boner."

"I wish I was there to take care of it."

"Me too, baby. Me too."

"Ya know, I kinda shocked myself. Kim wanted me to go back with her, but that was enough for me. I had one major reservation."

"What's that, T?"

"I knew Kim for about three months when we did that. I trusted her, but she's a wild child, so I wasn't totally sure my secret was safe."

"I see. That's a legitimate concern. Did you remain friends?"

"Oh yeah. The other thing that troubled me was my hair. I had blue hair. That stands out. I don't want to be recognized."

"I didn't think of that."

"I didn't either, not until after I sucked that big brown dick," Tina said. "When I mentioned that to Kim she said she often wears hats and wigs and sunglasses when she goes there."

"That makes sense. Wow. I think this tops your Biggus Diccus story. That's a good one, but this was a shocker for me, T." Joe paused. "I fucking love it."

"I have wanted to tell you this story for a long time. I was a little afraid you might react poorly."

"Why? Have I ever done that?"

"I don't know. It's a glory hole. I was afraid of what you'd think of me. I thought maybe you'd judge me."

"No. I think you're the sexiest woman I know."

"Thanks. I like knowing you feel that way. Do you want me to talk to you while you masturbate?"

While they had recently ventured into phone sex territory, Joe and T hadn't done anything where one of them masturbated... unless T was secretly doing herself, which was certainly possible. Joe thought for a moment.

"Yeah. I'd like that T. Why don't you imagine yourself kneeling in front of that glory hole and my cock appears from behind the curtain."

"Do you have lube?"

"In my hand."

"Oh, my God," Tina whispered. "This is the most beautiful cock I've ever seen. It's so thick and long... and look at your giant round head. It's so fat I can barely get my hands around it. I need your cock in my mouth. Oh, you taste so good. Your salty, sweaty prick is candy for me. I want all the sweets you can give me, especially the sticky cream filling. Mmmmmm."

It didn't take long for Joe to blow his load. Tina had him right where she wanted him. All it took was a good sex story. Joe wasn't certain if the glory hole was real or if Tina was playing with him. It didn't matter. He had fun and appreciated her telling her story.

--- Extra Extra ---

Joe walked into The Daily Grind to find copies of the June issue of Rolling Stone on the counter and tables. He looked at Annie. She smiled.

"What's this shit?" He asked. "You never have Rolling Stone here?"

"It was requested."

"By whom?"

"People who wanted to read it."

"Why don't they buy a copy and read it at home?"

Annie shrugged. "Are we having the usual, hon?"

"Yeah."

Annie went to work on Joe's morning redeye. She glanced over at him. "It's a very nice article, Joe. She's a good writer."

"Yeah, she is. That's why I agreed to the interview."

"So, are you going to see her again?" Annie smirked.

"Mind your P's and Q's, Mom?"

"I'm just hoping my boy met the right girl. I think she's a keeper." Annie put a cover on Joe's coffee. "What is it with you and New York women?" She reached for his favorite pastry, her chocolate croissant.

"I don't know. It's something about that city, me, and women. It's kinda fucked up."

Annie put Joe's order in front of him. "It's not just New York, hon. You've left wreckage all over the world."

Joe laughed, "Thanks, Mom. Nice talk. Have a good day." He walked out, making eye contact with a few, but not talking to any of the nine neighbors that were eavesdropping.

"I'll just assume that goes on your tab," Annie shouted with a grin as the door closed behind Joe.

"What's up with him," Walter asked out loud.

"He's a bit bitchy this morning," Dennis laughed.

Randy looked up from his Times. "He has his dark days. We've all seen them."

Annie slapped the counter to get their attention. "How long have you known him? What does Joe despise above all? What really pisses him off?"

"The bums sleeping in his lot?" Walter asked more than answered.

"No! He loathes gossip!" Annie put her hands up. "He hates when people talk behind his back, or his friend's back. That's Joe's biggest pet peeve. This attention is going to drive him crazy."

"It's a short drive," Walter said.

Annie smiled. "Joe didn't consider this end of the deal."

"Well," Dennis said for all to hear, "Did you see that woman? Did you hear her speak? I think Joe got exactly what he wanted and he'll be okay that everyone knows."

"He is shameless." Walter's wife Cynthia said, "He doesn't care what people think, but then he gets pissy when they talk about him. Isn't that a contradiction?"

"No," Walker waved his arm, "He doesn't give a fuck what people think, but he definitely cares what they say."

Several heads nodded, and voices murmured, liking Walter's point.

"Don't let Joe fool you," Annie said. "He cares what you all think. Just don't say what you think."

The whole cafe snickered.

"Is Joe Russian?" Carl smiled. "That's some commie shit."

"Go easy on him," Annie pointed her boney finger at her most loyal patrons. "We don't need another Frank incident."

Heads nodded, and everyone went back to their newspapers and conversations. Jonathan, a young regular, looked up from Rolling Stone. "She's really a great writer. This makes Venice sound like," he stumbled finding a word, "not fucking Venice, that's for sure... someplace a lot nicer."

"And she said this was a warm and friendly cafe with delicious pastries," Dennis said, "Us? Warm and friendly?"

"She wasn't here long enough to really know us." Cynthia groaned.

The following day, Joe walked into Vino Italia for lunch. He took a seat at the bar. The new bartender, Darla, smiled and called out, "Carlo, he's here!" When the diminutive old Italian came from the kitchen he went behind the bar, reached down, and pulled out a copy of Rolling Stone.

Joe rolled his eyes, "You too?"

"That young lady did a wonderful job. I enjoyed her article very much."

"Yes. She's great."

"She painted you as a wonderful, happy man, with many friends... is this fiction?

Carlo's cute bartender laughed audibly.

Carlo smiled, "I think she fell in love with you." He winked.

"Zip it, old man. How about getting me a menu so I can figure out lunch?"

"After all these years you should know my menu by heart."

"I still like to look at one. Just so I don't have to look at you."

After Joe had his menu, he looked over at Carlo and Darla, they were whispering. "What are you two on about?"

Carlo smiled. "Mila told the world she had a wonderful meal and beautiful Italian wine at Vino Italia. Thank you, Joe. That's why I hired a new bartender."

"You're expecting a bump?"

"Joe," Carlo stepped closer, "I'm already getting it. We're booked next weekend and the one after."

"Because of this?" Joe pointed at the magazine on the bar.

"Yes," Darla said, "They ask if this is the place, several have."

Two days after that, Joe went to the Surfside for the first time in days and found two copies laying on the bar. They guys broke his balls about Mila losing her journalistic objectivity after spending three days with Joe. Then they laughed hard that he wasn't good enough to make the cover of Rolling Stone.

"Well," Joe said, "Mila told me you miserable fucks are delightful and witty, so we know she's full of shit. We can't believe a fucking word she says."

"She called you charming also," Don nodded. "totally full of shit."

When Joe walked into Grants Music and saw a copy on his friend's desk, he shook his head, "What the fuck is going on? Is everyone suddenly a subscriber of Rolling Stone?"

"I'm pretty sure they dumped a few bundles at the newsstand. Jake has them prominently placed and he's telling everyone."

"I should walk down there and buy them all and burn them," Joe muttered.

"Lighten up, Joe." Grant smiled. "It's a very nice portrait of you and ... well, all of us. The part about a life full of love and friendship... I got choked up. And I'm okay being tagged your hometown all-purpose music man."

"She got that line from me."

"I know she did."

-- A Beautiful Life --

Joe was cooking dinner for one and feeling crappy about it. He thought about calling Danny but his little brother had a new girl and wasn't around so much. He sat at his kitchen island, eating huevos rancheros with a weak cerveza. His phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Joe, It's Mila. How are you?"

"Oh, Mila. I'm so glad you called. I'm okay, I think."

"I thought you might call me after you read the article," she said.

"Well, I was gonna get around to that. I was busy." Joe paused. "Hey, did you have like a thousand copies air-dropped on Venice? That issue is everywhere in town. It's a little unsettling."

"Why? Do you not like the piece?"

"Everyone loves it, and they won't stop talking about it. It's been a lot to handle."

"Did you like it, Joe?"

Joe didn't answer because he didn't know how to tell Mila that he had not read her article. He'd heard enough about it from everyone to know what was in there. His silence was enough for her to figure it out.

"You did not read it, did you?"

"I'm afraid to."

"Why? That is silly."

"Is it really silly?"

"What do you mean?"

Joe went quiet again. Mila waited this time, not letting him off the hook.

"I'm afraid of how it might make me feel."

"What do you think is in there? I wrote with love, Joe."

"Oh, I know that. Everyone is telling me how lovely your writing is, and how kind you were to my friends, and me."

"You're not afraid of love... are you?"

"It hasn't been kind to me. So yeah, maybe I'm... I don't know, Mila. I'm looking at the magazine right now. It's been sitting in my kitchen since the day it arrived, a week ago. I walk by it ten times a day wanting to read it. I pick it up... and I put it back down."

"You are afraid of the emotions," Mila said quietly. She made a breathy laugh, "I cried when I wrote it, Joe. When I first listened to my tape and read my notes I wanted to fly back and see you again."

"Book a flight right now, and you can read it to me in bed."

Mila laughed, "I wish I could do that."

"There's no one stopping you but yourself."

"It took me days after I wrote the draft before I could even look at it and begin the rewrite. It was an exhausting process like I've never had before."

"It sounds like you need to rest. I can take care of you for as long as you wish. Fly out. You will feel better after one day."

"I know I would. Joe. I can't fly. I have a new assignment and meetings at the office. I assume you haven't heard that people are saying my piece was very personal, and because I was in Venice for three days and shared so much time with you..."

"They did the math."

"Yes, as I thought they would. People are talking."

"People do that."

"Yes, I don't regret my work, but I may have been careless. Not with you, with my writing. I made it too personal."

"You did tell me this beforehand, that we might be exposed. Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"Not at the magazine, but reputationally it could hurt."

"I'm sorry, Mila."

"You did nothing wrong. Do not apologize. I told the world."

Silence took over the conversation. Joe didn't know what to say and Mila felt bad that Joe had not read the piece but didn't want to be hurt and dramatic. She was a professional.

"Will you do me a favor, Joe?"

"Read your emotional masterpiece?"

"Yes, and then call me back so we can discuss it."

"Okay, Mila. I will do that."

"I will wait by the phone."

Joe put down the phone and picked up the June issue of Rolling Stone and walked to his home office. He flipped on his desk lamp, sat down, placed the magazine on the desk, reached over for a bottle of bourbon, and poured a glass. There was always a bottle and glass in his office, for inspiration. Joe held the glass up, "Hello old friend. I might need you tonight." He downed the double and poured another. He let it sit as he opened the magazine. The table of contents said page 30, so he flipped there.

A Beautiful Life was not an interview. As Mila said, she wrote a short story, over 12000 words, about her visit to Venice to meet and talk with Joe Theroux. She never used the word interview. The narrative started with Joe's volunteer bartending and moved through Venice, collecting characters along the way, Joe's friends and neighbors. She wrote glowingly of laughing while friends traded insults and jokes intended with love. Everywhere she visited was given words to describe the place, the scene, the people, and what they meant to Joe.

She wrote, In every room we entered, Joe became a focal point. They love him and he loves them.

Mila wrote about the skaters, "Joe sees himself in the disaffected youth, rebels, and outcasts. They are a tight-knit group obsessed with skateboarding and music. Years ago, the teens convinced Joe to buy a longboard so he could cruise on the boardwalk. He would not ride it for me. Joe was afraid to embarrass himself in front of the media. Away from Joe, the kids told me he is the coolest old person. I laughed because Joe is only thirty-five. They would never admit this to Joe. As he says, 'Skater punks are too cool for emotions."

She wrote about the pick-up basketball games they watched and the young men who asked Joe to play because they needed a guy. He would not participate because a reporter was present.

Joe laughed while reading, recalling that he spent three days teasing Mila, asking too many times if they were off the record, and was then very careful to not risk embarrassing himself in front of Rolling Stone magazine.

Mila painted a picture of the Venice boardwalk in colorful words and emotions; the barkers, buskers, street performers, and beach crowd delighted her. Joe calls them the freak show, with love. He lives where Angelenos go to bask in the sun and surf. Every day is vacation.