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    Amazon Don
    Amazon Don
    Amazon Don
    Ebook84 pages1 hour

    Amazon Don

    By R.W. Clinger

    ()

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    About this ebook

    When TV zoologist Donlito Estar, better known as “Amazon Don,” accidentally bumps his Hummer into insurance salesman Carlos Dasio’s truck, an instant connection occurs between the two men. Carlos has had a crush on the star for years. Carlos is invited to visit Donlito’s palatial residence, where he’s bitten by Donlito’s pet red coral snake. Donlito comes to the rescue with anti-venom and saves his life, which cements the men’s relationship.

    But Carlos is crushed when he thinks he witnesses Donlito having public sex with a variety of men at Club Heat in downtown Barefoot Beach. Brokenhearted, Carlos ditches Donlito, who claims it’s all a big misunderstanding. But despite his resolve, Carlos is unable to control the way his heart yearns for Donlito. Why and how has he so easily fallen in love with the sexy TV star?
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJMS Books LLC
    Release dateNov 9, 2014
    ISBN9781611526585
    Amazon Don
    Author

    R.W. Clinger

    R.W. Clinger is a resident of Pittsburgh. He has a degree in English from Point Park University of Pittsburgh. His writing entails gay human studies, and includes the novels Just a Boy, Skin Tour, Skin Artist, Soft on the Eyes, Pool Boy, and The Last Pile of Leaves. He has published many stories with Starbooks Press as well as The Weekender, a novella with Dreamspinner Press. His gay mystery, Cutie Pie Must Die, is published with Bold Stroke Books. For three years he has held the position of managing editor for the literary magazine, The Writer’s Post Journal. For more information, please visit rwclinger.com.

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      Book preview

      Amazon Don - R.W. Clinger

      Later

      Chapter 1: Away We Go

      I wanted Amazon Don inside my tight and bulbous ass, having the biggest crush on the guy. His sexiness was the purest sin. One look at the five-eleven zoologist and I melted like a puddle of pudding. I never missed his television show on WTUR, Channel 4, in Barefoot Beach, Florida. My knees grew weak because of his dark Latino skin, scruffy cheeks, soft-brown eyes, and chiseled chest. The dimple in his chin just about rocked my world to slivers. The man was muscular and handsome like no one else I had ever seen. Again I took in his thick jungle tan shorts that were snug against his hips, the khaki shirt with its sanded print and six buttons, sage boots, and Tillie Airflo hat. When four o’clock at the office of Millbourne & Mosser Insurance struck, I made sure I was watching him, glued to his kids’ show: Amazon Don’s Wild Animal Adventures.

      Close your mouth, darling, you’re drooling, Liv Lynn, my best friend of eight years, sidekick, fag-hag, confident, personal assistant, and blond bombshell whispered into my left ear. He’s really not all that.

      "He is all that," I wooed, in lust for the man, glued to the forty-two inch Sony.

      Liv and I were alone inside the break room, which looked exactly like my office: tinted windows, beige carpet, stainless steel everything. She rolled a seat up to my side, placed her head on my right shoulder, and added, "He is all that, isn’t he?"

      In more ways than we know.

      Your Mr. Right.

      The man of my dreams.

      Your Prince Charming, Casper.

      So out of my league. Dammit.

      * * * *

      I knew too much about Amazon Don. Liv thought I was stalking him, but I wasn’t. His real name was Donlito Eban Estar. His birthday was August 18. The sixth child of seven to Francisco and Isabel Estar of Bisira, Brazil. He liked Italian food, had a fear of flying, never used drugs and drank a little, but didn’t have a problem with his alcohol. He moved to Florida when he was eighteen, attended Miami University, and obtained a master’s degree in zoology. He was thirty-two years old now and worked at WTUR for the last dozen years. The zoologist created his hit show from nothing and built it up to the empire it was, and grew wealthy. The Barefoot Beach show went national in 2009. And the marketing behind it was a complete success, which entailed stuffed animals, board games, video games, lunch boxes, erasers, pencils, clothes, rub-on tattoos, cartoons, DVDs, and music. Amazon Don made over ten million bucks last year. The man was definitely out of my league. Someone better than me. Royalty in Barefoot Beach and the rest of the United States, which meant there wasn’t a chance in hell he was ever going to be my boyfriend, let alone notice me.

      * * * *

      Liv consoled me as I watched Amazon Don play with a red-and-yellow coral snake on the Sony. She rubbed my back with a palm and said, He talks to stuffed animals, Casper. Maybe he isn’t your Mr. Right.

      Beatrice the Beaver is cool. Who doesn’t love Beatrice? I would talk to her if I could.

      What about the hammerhead shark? Tell me you don’t like him? Liv inquired.

      I love Harry, and Amazon Don does too. They’re best friends. Harry always gets him out of trouble.

      Liv clarified, I’m rolling my eyes.

      What can I say? I like Donlito. So what if he talks to stuffed animals.

      He’s a child in a man’s body. There’s a lot of immaturity there.

      He’s young at heart, brilliant, and the man drips of money. Amazon Don is a genius in my eyes, and quite the businessman. He sold his idea and it worked.

      You have your own money.

      Not until my parents die.

      Twenty million, right?

      Something like that. My accountant knows.

      You can buy a guy like Amazon Don when your parents finally kick the bucket.

      I laughed at Liv.

      She laughed at her own comment.

      And Amazon Don started to sing a playful song about the python wrapped around his right wrist.

      My God, I whispered, he makes me hard. I readjusted my ass in the uncomfortable seat, felt a semi-boner pop to life between my legs, and sticky semen at the top of my cock in my Pistol Pete underwear.

      This is sinful, Liv said. You’re getting hard over a kids’ show. Isn’t that illegal?

      I’m getting hard for Amazon Don. It has nothing to do with the kids.

      If I had a dick, I’d be hard for him, too, Liv added, removing her palm from my back. She stood, stretched, and said, We should get back to work.

      Go without me. There’s ten minutes of Donlito left.

      You’ll have to stay late and make up the time.

      The guy is worth it.

      Liv started to leave the break room, paused, and called over her right shoulder, Don’t be jacking off in here, friend. People use this place to eat.

      I laughed.

      She laughed.

      And Amazon Don started to talk to Harry the hammerhead shark about snake bites.

      Ten minutes later, Amazon Don smiled at his audience, waved goodbye, and sang, Away we go, kids. He swung from one jungle vine to the next through the Amazonian jungle. Baby monkeys sang an upbeat song about jungle travels and Amazon Don. Sloths tossed bananas and coconuts to and fro. Stuffed toucans whistled. Baboons beat on drums. A tiger shifted its tail from left to right with the melody.

      So long, you succulent piece of Latino man-ass, I said to the Sony, stood, adjusted the hard dick underneath my khakis, and flicked the television off. Smiling from ear to ear, daydreaming about being locked in Amazon Don’s arms, swinging from vine to vine in an imaginary jungle with him, I eventually walked back to my office, sat behind my desk, and pushed insurance papers from my Inbox to my Outbox, lusting for

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