The Odd Saturdays with Simon (anonymous)

 

Owners of the Cove Tavern, Alan and Paul, years ago began a tradition of hosting a private lunch with three other couples in the area. We meet there in the banquet room, which is like the lobby of an old lodge with a river stone fireplace. Two winters ago there was quite a stir before the first December lunch, when emails flew about a young man who was turning heads at Rocky Bay Grocery. Bob and John had seen him first, but it was Roger, who works at the hatchery, who was able to inform the rest of us: the fellow's name was Simon J., a marine ecology student doing some research for the state and who was working part-time checking at the grocery store. By Saturday, December 5th, everyone had been in the grocery and seen him. Roy and I don't shop at night, which was when Simon worked, but were assured by Roger and Joe that we should "Go out and pick up a pint of ice cream." We would not be disappointed, they said. We weren't. Tall, mid twenties, dark hair, brown eyes, the creamiest complexion, friendly smile, and a slight accent, Simon was enchanting.

While we all shared impressions of Simon that odd Saturday, John said he would love to see Simon naked. Who wouldn't? It went with out saying, but John got something out of vocalizing such things. Four or five times that lunch he said, "Seeing Simon naked, that would sure be something." The last time he said it, Joe replied, "John, we should invite Simon to join us for the next odd Saturday. I'd like to see him naked too." "What do you mean?" John asked. "I'd really like to see him naked. I'm not joking." "Neither am I," said Joe. "I have an idea that is worth a try." Joe is clever, and Roger right away was behind it. Everyone agreed.

Roy and I developed a habit of picking up ice cream or a lottery ticket around 8:30 most evenings. "Feel like some rocky road?" one of us would say. "Feel more like Rocky Bay," the other would reply. After Roger and Joe had told us Simon had accepted the invitation, Simon seemed somehow even friendlier. With people who are that good looking, ordinary pleasantness can seem like more. When we stopped for something Thursday the 17th, he tapped the counter, nodded, and smiling said "See you Saturday."

Saturday the 19th we were all at the Cove in the banquet room when Simon arrived wearing dark jeans and a soft long-sleeved grey shirt. Wow, did he look great, and so pleased to see us all. It would be just fine if we never saw him naked, I was thinking. He is just great to be around. But Joe wasted no time in bringing up the subject of hypnotism. In a way that seemed so rehearsed that they had to have rehearsed it to be obvious, Joe and Roger asked Simon if he would be willing to be put into a hypnotic trance. "Well," Simon said, "Yes, but I don't think I am a good subject. I don't think it would work." "Leave that to me," Joe assured him. "If it doesn't work, what's the harm in it?"

Joe took Simon away from the table and over to the fireplace, where had Simon sit in a large wing back chair. There Joe spoke to him for several minutes while swinging a key chain about a foot or so before Simon's face. Sitting almost at the far end of the banquet table, we couldn't hear much, except when Joe's voice rose. Mostly what I heard was phrases like, "Do you understand, Simon?" and "Simon, do it." We saw Simon, whose eyes were then closed, raise his left hand and bring it down to the arm of the chair again.

After several more instructed motions of Simon's hands and arms, Joe spoke to Simon in a voice we could all hear. "Simon, when you hear a telephone ring, you will rise from this chair and walk over to the table, where, starting with John, you will shake his hand and say, 'I am Simon, and this is my right shoe.' Then you will remove your right shoe and hand it to John. Then you will thank him and move on to Bob, to whom you will say, 'I am Simon and this is my left shoe,' after you shake his hand. And you will continue to Roy and Martin and Alan and Paul around the table, each time shaking their hand, introducing yourself and identifying the article of clothing you give to them. When you have shaken everyone's hand, you will pick up the phone on the table and press this button, which is the speaker button. Whatever the voice on the phone tells you to do, you will do it. Do you understand, Simon?"

Simon's voice was as pleasant as ever, but there was a rather matter-of-fact tone to it. "I understand," he said.

Joe came back to the table and place his cell phone on it. He sat down and looked around the table at all of us and finally nodded to Roger, who produced a cell phone from his pocket and speed dialed Joe's phone, which in a moment rang with an excitement we all felt.

It was like a dream from which at any moment I might wake up. But my heart never pounded in a dream as it did when I watched Simon rise from the chair about seventeen or eighteen feet away and walk toward the table. He stopped and turned to John, offering his hand. The beautiful sound of Simon's voice with the slight accent drenched our ears. "I am Simon, and this is my right shoe." Unhurried, yet in one quick motion, Simon pulled off his right shoe and handed it to John. As he did so he thanked John. "You're welcome, Simon," John replied. Simon nodded and turned to Bob. A few seconds later Simon was shaking my hand and handing me his left sock. While Simon unbuttoned his shirt, which he did carefully after he had shaken Alan's hand, and I’m sure I was not the only one doing this, I counted. He was not wearing an undershirt. He would give his belt to Paul and that meant, even if he was wearing underpants, he would be naked after shaking Joe's hand.

We could see there was more than a bulge in Simon's briefs, when he handed his jeans to Roger. Simon had a serious hard-on and it got more so when he took off his briefs. Beautiful, uncut, arching and swaying. In a moment Simon was reaching for the phone and pushing the speaker button. The voice, which was Joe’s, instructed Simon to put the phone, which was on a cord, around his neck. When Simon had done that, Roger’s voice instructed Simon to put his hands on his hips and walk around the table slowly, on step at a time, counting his steps aloud. Watching him move and pause, his cock swaying, as he passed each of us at the table excited Simon as much as it did the eight of us. By the time he was closest to me, there was a bead of pre-cum at the tip of his cock. Like a jewel.

As beautiful as he was, I was most taken by his face. It had changed, but I wasn’t sure how. I know that Roger had done well to instruct Simon to count each step aloud. I can still see his mouth pronounce the shapes in the number twenty-three. His voice too seemed more resonant.

Simon, his hands on his hips, naked proceeded around the table and stopped where he had picked up the phone. Roger had slid his phone across the table to John, who then instructed Simon to rotate his arms like a swimmer doing the butterfly stroke. And the phone was passed back and forth as new instructions for Simon came to mind. I instructed him to touch his right heel to his left knee and touch his knuckles together with his thumbs pointing to the ceiling and positioned just below his chin. The curves of his forearms were so beautiful to see, the slopes of a pyramid leading to the face of a sphinx.

We did have lunch that day, but not at the usual time. Simon sat at the table naked with a red cloth napkin on his lap. Each time I saw him lift the napkin, Bob and Roger, who were on either side of him, looked at his cock. Later I asked Bob if Simon had had a hard-on throughout the meal. He said Simon was hard the whole time. That kind of amazed me, because Simon had carried on conversation on a number of topics. He had even made faces, his imitations of trout.

Simon was full of surprises. He asked many questions about us all, clearly having thought about us as couples. He liked that we enjoyed talking about him with each other, and he said that he had enjoyed watching our exchanging glances with each other when we’d seen him at the store. Of course, we asked him questions as well. We wanted to know if he had done anything like this before. He hadn’t, except with one man four times. The man had undressed him and had made him stand before a mirror while he touched him all over and eventually brought him to orgasm. Afterward, the man, who had remained clothed the entire time, had Simon look at the two of them in the full length mirror and answer questions about how he felt about what they had done and were doing. That, Simon said, aroused him so much that, when the man told him he would have to beg to be jacked-off, Simon said that he had begged. I don’t know why I asked it, but I did. “Simon, did he hypnotize you too?” “No,” he replied. “I’ve never been hypnotized.” He smiled and looked around the table.

The project Simon was working on was to be completed in mid May, about ten odd Saturday’s off. We invited him to join us for as many of them as he liked.