Sid bounded into the gym. The parking lot was full of his clients cars so his step was quicker than usual. Sid or rather Sid as Jojohn had a date in San Francisco in a couple of hours and he needed to conduct the deals in the locker room and get some pec. and back work in before heading across the bridge. The john, a regular client named Barry, a retired Real Estate Broker turned vintner, married, lived about ten miles away but they only met in San Francisco. The idea had been Barry's and was motivated by his ever present concern to keep keep it all on the DL. Having the date 85 miles from Healdsburg provided him space to enjoy the sex and relax in the arms of his stud. It didn't matter to Sid. Sid was Sid to all his firefighter friends, all young enough, dumb enough, crooked enough or a combination of all three to not notice or care about the existence of Jojohn. To them Sid was a stand up sort of guy, one that always bought the drinks, shared or scored the best drugs, lied to their girlfriends or wives for them, hunted and skied with them and sometimes, when they were stoned on a good bowl of Kush, would let himself be blown by one or two of them.
Tonight there was no need for extra stealth as Barry's wife, Isabel, was hosting a private party at their winery, Cave Curee. Isabel or so Barry had told him, would be resplendently dressed in a couture evening gown and holding court in their candlelit, flower strewn faux Tusacan tasting room. A room to be completely populated by drunks on the make, hangers on, a friend or two and the increasingly rare liquor wholesale agent. As a result Isabel Harris would be oblivious to time passing or absent husbands. Couture fashion had that effect upon her. Like a drunk with a full bottle everything else simply didn't matter.
Sid knew that this johns wife occupied and not being a factor during the upcoming evening meant that Barry would want added kinks. All light stuff, use of butter instead of lube, domination and complete silence during the whole session. Sid typically finished Barry in about ten minutes and they'd spend the rest of the hour discussing the progress of the garden Sid and his wife Angelina were planting. Barry liked to offer his advice and felt his freely sharing a decade of experience in building a winery, would somehow benefit Jojohn rather than a fifty dollar tip. Barry directed the development or so he thought.of the small garden at the post-war Rancher fixer-upper that Sid and his wife Angelina had purchased in an older part of Santa Rosa. To Sid-Jojohn what mattered most was that the design hide and incorporate his dozen marijauna plants. Sid, like the rest of the north bay, was nothing if entrepreneurial and his mini farm of kush marijauna plants fit in nicely with his real world job as an ambulance driver. Medical Marijauna was a legal easy side business and explained the bundles of extra cash to Angelina
The free weights were just a head, the juice head cage as it was nicknamed was full, he passed by, circled the fenced off area once and headed to the men's locker room. Four big men, each lacking a discernable neck, one looking like a kid in a fat suit, followed him into the locker room. They waited silently and busied themselves by washing hands or trash talking girlfriends. They waited for Sid to be dressed in his workout clothes before silently, one at a time, approaching him. Four quick exchanges, each consisting of an exchange of three one hundred dollar bills for a small, still sealed box with a Pfizer Lab logo on it. The transaction occurred in a very matter of fact fashion. The locker door opened again but as these four were his regulars and he worked out with most of them they all knew the "dealio". Business was conducted in such an unrushed manner that when a stranger happened in on the scene he would not notice anything unusual about the five men's behavior. Business completed. Twelve hundred dollars pocketed, about half profit., locked in his locker made safer by one of his boy's sitting shotgun near it and reading an auto trader magazine. Sid hit the free weights.
Barry liked Sid's pecs pumped up and since this john was $400.00 per session Sid liked to pump the goods. Barry also supplied the heroin they snorted, post hand job, which meant he would be later than the 8:00 o'clock start time previously agreed upon. Barry would need to visit his drug dealer, a decayed old young man called McCarthy, before they met at the co-op that the Harris's maintained but the bank mostly owned on Taylor Street behind Grace Cathedral. That meant Sid could get a full pec.and back workout in, be able to groom and drive to the city unrushed. While lifting on the incline Sid made a mental note to remind himself that Barry liked to be carried around the living room while they both were naked and be masturbated from behind by Sid-Jojohn, he always had him use butter instead of lube and both would stand before the floor to ceiling window which overlooked the spire of Grace Cathedral and Huntington Park far below. Barry liked to ejaculate onto the window and left the dried cum for the housekeeper or Isabel's dog to clean up. Jojohn never came and never had an erection unless one was caused by his steroid use.
Waving goodbye to the teenage girl attendant who yelled " hey you", Sid was buzzed out. No card needed. That was what life was like for Sid, a waved hello from the doorman, attendant, front desk clerk, bartender and he was golden. Being a 6.4, hard bodied blonde party man, known as the go to guy for hot parties, pussy and drugs, had smoothed life's rougher edges. Those rough spots having been caused chiefly by employment in a dead end job answering what he and his partner Skip termed "Mexican panic calls".for the County Ambulance service. At the ripe old age of 25, both found themselves working as County Public Health E.M.T.'s, forever wait listed by a half dozen County fire departments due to a lack, not of training, but by neither having a parent already employed by any one of a dozen Sonoma County Fire Departments.
Life on the economy was either hooked up legit, a Firefighter in San Francisco let's say, or d.l. like being a dope growing steroid dealer. The worst was life as a Mexican. That world, the Mexican one, was one lived in complete illegality. Backbreaking long hours working in Vineyards and on Marijauna farms. The earnings went quickly, to pay off coyotes, triple rents and money sent south.
Sid had chosen the dl and far from lowering his impression of himself, the choice, once the money started to roll in, gave his already inflated ego a huge boost. The cash allowed him to sneer about parts of town where the " help lived". It felt good to be him. Sid couldn't remember the last time he waited to get into a club, paid for a meal, paid for clothes, housing or trips. Life had, for a lowly paid Sonoma County E.M.T., taken off about the time he became known as Jojohn, first in San Francisco than Vegas. Jack off John. That-was how he was known to his tricks, both men and women. A professional date with Jojohn always ended in his date moaning in sexual ecstasy under his 250 pounds of steroid pumped up hard muscled body. While no longer shredded from hours in the gym or running and clearly water bloated from steroid use, it still paid the bills and as long as the bills got paid his wife Angelina was happy. Angelina while not homely was in fact too hard and sharped featured a young woman to ever be called pretty, the wifey was content and didn't mind his frequent "overtime" work as Sid's and she had a far more abundant life than the one her growing up in a trailer park would have given an observer cause to expect.
Sid always said that one of the owner benefits of marrying a homely girl like Angelina was that felt she had won the Daddy D.N.A pool by marrying him . The only problem with that pool he liked to say was that there were no lifeguards on duty. Angelina didn't understand his ardor in making love was not due to his love of her but the effects of the juice. Angelina was simply there.whne sid was amped on the juice it made no difference if it were his wife or an old mans ass under him. What she mistook for a profound union of their souls was 'roid' aggression nothing more.
Angelina was content and embarrassingly proud of the life she had won with her Sid. For won is what she felt she had done everytime she awoke in her house, in her bedroom flooded by fall morning light in the wine country. Knowing her garden lay just beyond the sheet covered window, her man mostly not in her bed, Angelina was very content. For Sid .it was a straight forward trick. Keep her happy and that meant keeping her in the dark about JoJohn and his Johns and Janes. Sid was aided in this by Angelina having an unnatural lack of curiosity.
The other trick, the tricks, were less difficult. That world was a world of quick satisfaction. It was commodity sex. The story told, the bio of Jojohn, was that he was an underpaid Cal Fire Firefighter trying to pay down student loans from S.R.J.C. Fire Tech. It was made believable by his having been a Cal Fire Fighter. What mattered mostly was being good looking,. It didn't hurt the trade that he was also charming, a young married guy. Jojohn spun a story of being caught up trying to pay for his fixer upper house in a down economy. It worked. The tricks, if they cared at all and most did not, would book a repeat date, add a tip or buy dinner, based not upon his story as JoJohn liked to think but by his magic hand job and make-out sessions. Even the johns who had expected more, a lot more, were sated and pleased with the experience.
The use of his powerful right hand to pump out an orgasm for one of his john's was how he paid for the dragon race he was starting to live for. It, the wank, meant nothing to him and it did not matter to him at all if the money was from embarrassed mothers of brides to be, drunk maids of honors, married men or the stray gay tourist to the wine country. It didn't matter to Sid because Sid wasn't there. The moment he started out for a date Jojohn did his thing. No it wasn't Sid and as far as Jojohn was concerned snorting a bit of heroin post trade made it all tolerable and downright enjoyable. Sid-Jojohn felt the sex-money plus blowing the dragon bested his former extra gig of driving drunk tourists between winery tasting rooms and that the resulting morning cramps, diarrhea, and slight shakes of mild heroin withdrawal were no worse than the hangovers he used to suffer through on Mondays after a weekend of Winery jitney work.
The downside of his measured weekly use of blowing the dragon, snorting white Heroin, was that it was from the poppy fields of Afghanistan, and more expensive than boiling or smoking the black tar heroin the coyotes brought north. The cost was inching up. Barry supplied date night heroin and passed Sid's order and cash on to McCarthy. Still it was a good time and money was not a problem. Sid had a day job, the steroid dealing, medical Marijauna, the tricking, and Angelina worked as a waitress at the Flamingo Hotel. It was, as a character in a favorite movie of his said, "rich pickings". The burning in his nasal cavity had taken some getting used too but the ensuing euphoria, a feel of being cocooned in sensory pleasure, a soft easing from the pain his overworked out body felt, the quieting of steroid induced rages, made, as he told Skippy for a great boys night out. Sid was he told himself in control, Jojohn was, after all, a mere fiction, a creation of Sid's and Sid was, as everyone knew, married, straight and intent on keeping in shape to answer the call whenever it came to be a Firefighter. The jackoff part, well that just came naturally.Practice had made perfect and his technique varied only by sex. JoJohn took over. The tyrst or session was more like a good grappling exercise than making out. It was all mapped out in his mind. Meeting, making out, stripping, frotage, making out, hand job. No exceptions. Jojohn had made an art of faking noisy excitement and pleasure and once he started there was no stopping. Jojohn, dominated, took it to the mat and the opponent would tap out in 20 minutes. Jojohn took no enjoyment out of the act but like the professional he was participated in the session fully.
Sid, as previously mentioned, was never present but did allow Jojohn to be carried over to gym grappling sessions with newer friends. Sid got a rush when he grappled and overpowered another straight guy. It would start as horseplay, the opponent thrown into submission and than he'd wank him off. Not out of any need to answer any sexual gratification but merely as a power move over an equally fit man. Sid got off on the surprised look the straight jock had on his face at being taken. It was the humiliation it caused the other guy that got Sid off. It was rape by many peoples standards but not in the world of 20 something, steroid fueled bodybuilders, whose frequent, random and uncontrollable erections were as common as their passing steroid rages. The grinding rub outs which resulted from the grappling fights where never spoken of nor planned in advance and since Sid was the gym drug dealer and party source of choice his victims put up with it silently or were banned from what passed as the cool party circuit.
Workout complete Sid headed to the locker room, he or rather Jojohn was ready to go to San Francisco.
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