`FLATBUSH' Part 3
By Justin Balancier
jbalancier9@yahoo.com
May I remind you once again to send a contribution to the Nifty fund so we can keep on writing and you can keep on reading. Thank you.
THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER
Asa didn't leave the house all weekend. Instead he stayed home on Saturday and read about Henry VIII. He was amazed, how King Henry, went from a virile physical man with six wives, to a foul smelling barrow of humanity, due to illness and poor hygiene, as he aged.
Of course, that was then and now is now. Asa enjoyed reading about the English monarchy and watching BBC television programs.
His telephone rang and it was Bernie.
"So what are you up to today" inquired Bernie
"Page 232," replied Asa "I'm reading"
"What should you be reading?"
"Henry VIII"
"Do I know him? Asked Bernie
"Not likely"
"I'm calling to tell you, that I'm geared for adventure."
"Get over yourself; you've got no talent worth mentioning."
"Not so Asa, I'm always ready and believe me; talent I've got."
"Like indigestion, you're ready – ready for what?" asked Asa
"I'm a little nervous," continued Bernie
"If you're nervous, buy a bottle of scotch and a Ukrainian hooker; so full of it, you are."
"Listen and maybe you will understand."
"I can't believe, what I don't understand," said Asa trying to annoy him on purpose.
"Impossible you are – I give up" said Bernie
"Get out of the business; you're not motivating. You've got parts that need help." Asa barked at him.
"Okay, so I'm not what I used to be, but a long way from the worse. I went out with Adam Wexler," Bernie finally confessed
"Why? - I'm not asking; but how did you manage, is a good question?"
"I asked him."
"You asked him?"
"That's what I said, and he said – "why not!"
"So what happened?" asked Asa
"So, now you're interested."
"Okay, give it a try; I'm interested," admitted Asa. He propped a pillow behind his back and put his feet up on an ottoman to get comfortable. "Okay, I'm comfortable, tell me a story."
"He straddled my face and I sniffed his underwear. But greedy I was and wanted more."
"Of course you did."
"So off comes the underwear and he is squatting over my face with these two gorgeous plums hitting me in the face."
"Plums?"
"Okay nuts – whatever"
"Asa, you should see this kid naked. From the neck up – not so much; but from the waist down - a picnic; a virtual picnic, I'm telling you."
"He's nice. Huh?"
"Gorgeous, I'm telling you, such a hidden treasure, you wouldn't believe," said Bernie
"I was being a chazir (pig) sniffing around and he's getting hotter and hotter. Suddenly his dick goes into my mouth and "heaven" – this I'm saying; I found heaven; cream like I haven't tasted in years. A yearling loaded with testosterone, just waiting to spread it around, is what he is"
"How much did this yearling cost you?" asked Asa?
"Nothing to be concerned about; it's a token, a few shekels for sharing time with a sweet old Jew from Flatbush," said Bernie, sounding like a fool."
"Ha, `sweet' I'm not so certain," remarked Asa, switching legs trying to stay comfortable.
"You have to sniff a lot of frogs before one turns into a prince, and that Wexler was a prince, I'm telling you." added Bernie
"Okay-okay, this I believe." added Asa "I was not there, but you were, so he's a prince – good enough."
"I've got to be hanging now; I've got to pee so I will talk later."
Asa put down the phone and almost tripped over his feet when he took his first step. He walked slowly to the bathroom and sat down on the toilet seat to pee. He could do it standing up, but why stand when one can sit.
He washed his hands like he always does and went back to sit in his Archie Bunker chair, to read. He lowered his head and dozed off into a gentle sleep.
This wasn't unusual for Asa; he took a nap most afternoons whenever possible.
He began dreaming...
He was leaning against the bar in a gay club in Greenwich Village. He had no aches and pains, and felt like thirty-nine again.
"Can you move sir, I want to squeeze in to pick up a drink from the bartender," a young Jewish man said to him.
Asa moved over and nodded, but said nothing. The young man was clean cut, not a beauty, but rather jerky, tall, skinny and a little pushy. Not Asa's type at all.
"My name is Adam Wexler." It was a dream; but the name `Wexler" was so clearly spoken.
""Wexler – that's a beautiful name"
"Thank you – I've had it for some time now. Do you want to talk to me?"
"About what?"
"About this," he said, and put Asa's hand on the bulge between his legs. Whatever he had between his legs was definitely worth checking out.
"Do you like what you're touching?
"Very impressive" said Asa
"You want it?" asked Adam, "You can hold my crotch" and he pressed his dick into Asa's hand. "Anything more we will call business.'
"Let's get out of here, mumbled Asa; I'm not a Yutz, but I'd like to do a little business. Maybe, I will call you Wexler"
"Whatever pleases you pleases me."
In this dream, Asa drives Adam to his home in Brooklyn; which lacked reality, because Asa didn't drive. But a lack of reality is what makes a dream worth remembering.
Bernie was right; Adam had a nonstop body from the neck down. His legs were yummy and strong looking with just enough black hair to stimulate ones appetite.
Adam rolled on to his back and looked up at the ceiling. His cock was hard, long, smooth and available. His balls were magnificent plums worth picking. He was no longer a homely Jewish kid, but an exquisite Flatbush prince.
"I know what you need Mr. Asa," said Adam – "you want the taste of sex on your lips – I know – I know, you want me to squat over your face."
"Do your stuff Wexler, I like your style; just drop the Mr. Crap."
"Let's start with this," said Adam and put his underwear under Asa's nose and told him, this was the essence from his crotch.
"You like that? They are from yesterday."
"It's good" mumbles Asa
Adam straddles Asa's face and his balls cover his mouth; which he licks like a hungry animal. Adam lowers his butt over Asa's face; and he licks frantically like a serpent catching flies.
"How is that?" asked Adam
"Mazel Tov, nosh" (good nibbling) mumbled Asa, barely able to speak
It was then; Asa is startled by a thump; his Henry VIII book had fallen to the floor and he immediately opened his eyes. He had been dreaming.
"Phew, what the hell was that all about?" He said speaking to himself. Life as we age becomes meshugameh; it's only a dream." Asa mumbles with a look of relief.
"Nobody has much use for an old person; a touch of gracious living is what I need along with Adam Wexler naked, for about forty minutes. Such a lovely one, not so plain as one would think."
Asa picked up his book and opened it to chapter 12 and began reading again...
`Jane Seymour.' was the third wife to King Henry VIII, blah, blah, blah."
Asa stopped reading, and stared at the gold and red cover on the book.
"Nice cover, just gorgeous. - Shalom!!" and set the book down, heaving a big sigh. "I don't feel like reading."
I could use something to nibble on, like a moist playground between two legs; it would inspire me – glorious it would be."
"The good things I have to wait for, Oy, by the time I'm dead, I'll be really skilled - Everyone deserves a standing ovation at least once in their life.
Part 4 - How old is too old, oy vey