If the idea of two men loving each other and expressing that love in a sexual manner offends you, then you have clearly come to the wrong place. Feel free to leave.
-53-
An hour or so after Charles left for work on Friday, the three teenagers came downstairs for breakfast. I was still in the sun room, enjoying a cup of tea with Gran when the three of them appeared in the doorway.
“Good morning, guys,” I said. “Are you sure you’re ready to be up and about, Steve?”
“Yes, Uncle Philip,” he answered. “I’m tired of lying around doing nothing.”
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
“Pretty good,” he said. “I’m still a little sore down....” he paused as he registered Gran’s presence, “..you know.”
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s get you guys fed, and then I’ll show you the school, and we can go to the Mall.”
Mrs. Goodman appeared, as if on cue, and laid out a small breakfast feast for the three of them. Lance, sensing the arrival of potential handouts, moved from his spot beside me, to a spot nearer to the three boys. They consumed it rapidly, as only teenagers can do, and by eleven, we were in my car and on our way.
We arrived at the school, and I drove slowly along the drive which made a large circuit of the campus. At about the halfway mark, we heard a bell ring, and the area between buildings was suddenly filled with boys of all ages, all of them dressed uniformly in dark blue blazers and khaki pants.
“Wow,” Jeff said, “they look pretty cool.”
“Yeah,” his brother said, “they look pretty much like the guys back home, except they’re dressed better.”
Thank you guys, I thought, for bolstering the argument in favor of uniforms.
“So, Steve,” I asked, “what do you think?”
“I hate to admit it, Uncle Philip, but I guess I’m impressed.”
“And well you should be,” I said. “Those boys’ parents pay a lot of money to have them in this school, and the boys get a superb education in return. By the time they are Seniors, they will have the best Colleges in the country begging them to enroll.”
We left the campus and drove over to Lenox Square. I pointed the brothers in the direction of the game room, and Steve and I went to the department store that carried the necessary Blazers. In the men’s department, we purchased three Blazers, several pairs of pants, a half-dozen shirts, and a couple of ties.
I asked the salesclerk about socks, and Steve said, “Uncle Philip, I’ve got plenty of socks.”
“No you don’t, kiddo,” I said, “I’ve looked in your sock drawer, and you only have three pairs of suitable dress socks. All the rest are white.”
“What’s wrong with white socks?”
“White socks are for tennis shoes, or work boots. You don’t wear white socks with dress clothes,” I said.
“What happens if I do?” he asked.
“The Fashion Police will get you,” I said, trying to keep a poker face.
“You’re kidding, right?” he said.
“Of course. However, you need to remember that you’re not in rural Louisiana any more, and even if you were, I’ll bet you wouldn’t see your Uncle Jack going to his law office wearing white socks with his suit.”
The salesclerk backed me up on that, and Steve grudgingly acquiesced. Fortunately, he was pretty much ‘off the rack’ as far as sizes went, so there were no alterations necessary on the Blazers or the pants.
As we walked down the concourse of the Mall, toward the game room to meet the brothers, I said, “Steve, are you doing okay? This is the most exercise you’ve had in days.”
“I’m okay,” he said, “just a bit sore here and there.”
“Good, just take it easy, and you’ll be over this in no time.”
“Uncle Philip, Jeff and Rob are going home tomorrow, do you think it would be okay if Jeff and I.... you know?”
“Fooled around tonight?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know why not, as long as he doesn’t squeeze your testicles. You’d probably be more comfortable lying flat on your back with him on top. Doing a sixty-nine shouldn’t place any stress on your bruises.”
“Good,” he said. “I can’t believe I’m talking to you about this stuff.”
“Why not? We’re both guys, and we’re both Gay. What’s the problem?”
“I don’t know, it’s just weird, talking to anybody that is so much older than me about sex.”
“Steve, I think you will soon realize that there isn’t anything that you can’t discuss with Charles or me.”
“Yeah, I sort of realize that now, but realizing it and doing it are two different things.”
We located the brothers in the game room, and the four of us went downstairs to the food court for lunch. The guys wanted to have dessert in the food court, but I persuaded them to hold off a bit on that. On the way back to the house, we stopped at The Dessert Place in Buckhead, and they understood why.
“Wow, Uncle Philip, I’ve never seen a restaurant that only sold dessert,” Steve said.
“Awesome, and totally cool,” were the responses of Jeff and Rob, respectively.
All three of them selected huge pieces of cake or pie, and I settled for a small dish of custard. When we arrived at the house, I noticed a car in the driveway. “Looks as though we have company,” I said.
The three boys carried Steve’s new clothes up to his room, and I headed to the back of the house, where I found Gran and Lydia in the Sun Room.
“Did Steve have an appointment with you today?” I asked. “If so, I apologize for his not being here - he didn’t say anything to me about it.”
“No,” Lydia said, “he didn’t have an actual appointment. I was driving through the neighborhood on the way from one place to another, and decided to check in on him. How is he doing?”
“He’s mending physically,” I said, “but I can’t vouch for the rest of it. Right now, he has the distraction of having his two friends from home here with him. I suspect the test will come after they leave tomorrow.”
Mrs. Goodman appeared, with a pitcher of iced tea in her hands, which she poured for the three of us. “Did the boys have an adequate lunch?” she asked.
“I think so,” I said. “They stuffed themselves in the Food Court at Lenox Square, and then we stopped by the Desert Place on the way home. I think they will be all right for a few hours, at least.”
She left the room, and Lydia said, “How are things in Louisiana?”
“As far as I know, everything is under control. Steve’s father is out on bail, and under a Restraining Order not to get within a certain distance of his son. My sister has filed for Divorce, and should have no trouble getting control of the Business, particularly in light of the fact that her husband will most likely be in jail for a very long time.”
“Charles told me that the Prosecutor in Louisiana would prefer to have Steve testify in person against his father, but is willing to accept a taped statement if Steve is not ready to attend the trial in person when it begins,” she said.
“Do you think he will be ready for that?”
“That depends upon how long it will be before the trial begins. As I understand it, a preliminary hearing is scheduled in a couple of weeks. The trial date will be set at that hearing.”
“Well, I’m no Psychologist, but it seems to me that it would be good for Steve if he was able to face his father in court and testify.”
“I tend to agree with that sentiment,” Lydia said, “but it is going to take a little time to bring him to that point.”
At that point, my cell phone rang. I noted the originating area code and said, “This is a business call, I need to run upstairs to the office.” I answered the call as I hurried down the hall and up the stairs. By the time I reached our desk, I had made a decision, passed it along to the caller, and made a few hasty notes on a yellow pad. Just as I concluded the call, Steve stuck his head into the office.
“Uncle Philip, we’re going out to the pool for a while,” he said.
“Enjoy yourselves,” I said. “See you later.”
The fax machine began to hum, and I waited patiently for all four pages of the document to land in the tray before I picked them up and scanned them carefully. I signed the document in the appropriate spots, and faxed it back to the sender. When it had gone through, I sent it out again, this time to Randolph for his records. He must have been hovering over his fax machine, because my cell phone rang two minutes later, and Randolph was on the line. He was, in a word, ecstatic.
I talked to him for a few minutes, and then went back downstairs to rejoin Gran and Lydia. Gran looked up when I entered the room, and said, “You look like the proverbial cat that just swallowed the canary. I take it that your call was good news.”
“Indeed it was,” I said. “I have been negotiating back and forth for weeks with a Real Estate agent in Boston. The seller has finally agreed to my terms, and this has every appearance of being the biggest and most lucrative project I have ever undertaken.”
“Are you referring to the apartment building that you looked at while we were in Boston?” Gran asked.
“Indeed I am. This will be a multibillion dollar project. I am purchasing it with income that I received tax free from the court settlements. When the project is completed and fully rented, I am going to donate the building to the Foundation. My Tax Attorney is salivating over the prospect of taking a huge write-off from funds that were never taxable income in the first place. More important, the Foundation will have a steady source of cash flow that will be more than sufficient for its day to day operations.”
“That’s very clever,” Lydia said.
“Yes it is, but I can’t take credit for it. Charles is the one who came up with the idea of the tax advantages.”
“He has the devious mind of a Lawyer,” Gran said.
Before anything else could be said, my cell phone rang again. A name came up in the window and because I suspected the nature of the call, I took it without exiting the room. When the call was over, I looked at Gran, and said, “This is my day for news. That was our publisher. The publication date for your book is set for about six weeks from now.”
Before Gran could respond to that, Lydia had to be brought up to date on the book project. She was amazed and impressed, and said that she would certainly want an autographed copy.
This gave me a germ of an idea. “You know, Gran,” I said, “they will probably want you to do a book-signing tour when the book is published.”
She gave me a look. “I have no intention of flying around the country, visiting bookstores,” she said. “You know I don’t like airports and long lines.”
“You could certainly manage some of the bookstores in greater Atlanta,” I said, “and Charles could fly you to some of the other cities in the Southeast.”
“We’ll see,” she said, and changed the subject.
A bit later, I excused myself to go upstairs to work. I had been setting aside two or three hours every afternoon for writing, and was deep into a new project. I was deep in concentration when I heard the boys come barreling back upstairs. There was a knock on the office door, and I looked up.
Steve stuck his head in the door. “How was the pool” I asked.
“Fine,” he said. “The hot tub made my balls a bit uncomfortable, but the cool water in the pool felt great.”
“What’s up?”
“Do you mind if we go back to the Mall?”
“Not as long as you don’t over do it,” I said. “Remember to be back in time for dinner - Mrs. Goodman is planning a going away feast for Jeff and Robb.”
“We’ll be back in plenty of time.”
“Do you need any money?” Charles and I had already discussed the need for Steve to have a regular allowance, and Steve had eagerly agreed to take on the role of gardener and groundskeeper by way of chores.
“No, I’m okay for now,” he said.
“Then run along and have a good time.”
He left the office and closed the door behind him, and I got back to work. I had just gotten into the story when Grace knocked on the door. She was taking off for the weekend, and handed me the wireless monitor so I could listen out for the babies. I wished her a pleasant weekend, clipped the wireless device to my belt, and resumed my writing. I was still at it when Charles came home. He slipped into the room so quietly that I did not know he was there until his arms slipped around me from behind.
“You’re hard at it,” he said.
“I have had a very good day in a lot of ways.”
“Tell me about it?”
“Let’s go to the bedroom and get naked first,” I said, as I closed the document I was working with.
Instead of answering me, he grabbed my hand, pulled me up from the desk, and led me down the hall to the master bedroom. Without releasing his grip on my hand, he closed the door behind us, locked it, and maneuvered me onto the bed.
In no time, I was flat on my back and naked. Charles paused, as he began to kiss his way down my torso. “Now, tell me about your day,” he said.
I proceeded to do so, between gasps of pleasure as he located one sensitive spot after another. By the time I had finished my report of the day, he was circling the base of my erection with his tongue.
“That pretty much sums it up,” I said, “now move your body 180 degrees so I can reciprocate.”
He did just that, and I quickly lost myself in the giving and receiving of pleasure. Half an hour later, we were showered, dressed, and sitting in the study when the boys returned from the Mall. They came into the study and said hello to us. We visited with the boys until the intercom rang, and Mrs. Goodman announced that dinner would be served in fifteen minutes.
The boys excused themselves to go and wash up. I followed them down the hall, and asked Rob and Jeff to stop by the office for a minute while Steve was in his bathroom. When the three of us were in the office, I closed the door, walked to the desk, and retrieved two envelopes.
“What time are you guys planning to leave in the morning?” I asked.
“Pretty early,” Rob said. “Our folks will be home tomorrow evening, and we want to get home in time to have the house straightened up before they get there.”
“Yeah,” Jeff added, “we left in sort of a hurry.”
“I know,” I said. “I can’t thank the two of you enough for all you did for Steve. You probably saved his life, and certainly saved him a lot of grief by bringing him here.”
I handed an envelope to each of them. “This is to reimburse you for your gas, and give you some cash for the trip back.”
As I expected, they protested, but in the end, they pocketed the envelopes and thanked me. “You are both very welcome,” I said, “and remember, you are always welcome to come and visit any time.”
They went to wash up, and I rejoined Charles in the study, and we went into the nursery to look in on the babies before we went down to dinner. They were sound asleep, so we quietly closed the door and headed downstairs.
Dinner was wonderful, even if the atmosphere was somewhat gloomy, the impending departure of the brothers having had a dampening effect on Steve’s spirits. We had just finished our main course when the wireless monitor at my belt started making noises. Charles and I excused ourselves to go up to the nursery and take care of business.
The babies were both wet, so we changed them, and took them into the study where we set them down in a playpen that had been set up in one corner of the room. They weren’t quite at the point of being able to crawl, but lay happily on their backs, trying to reach the colorful mobile that was suspended from the edge of the playpen.
Charles turned on the stereo system and selected some Mozart and Vivaldi. We were settled back on the sofa, listening to the music and watching the babies when Steve and the brothers came back upstairs. The three of them had decided to go to the movies and were seeking directions to the theater they had selected. Charles told them the theater was not too far away, and suggested that they go into the office and use Mapquest, which they did.
Gran arrived in the study just as the babies were beginning to get restless and show signs of needing to be fed, so we took them back into the nursery where she fed Mark, and rocked him to sleep while Charles and I took turns doing the same with Steve.
When the two babies were sound asleep, we transferred them to their cribs, and the three of us went back to the study. Charles poured a nightcap for each of us, and we sat and discussed the events of the week.
“Philip,” Gran asked, “how do you think Steve will do, once his friends leave?”
“It’s hard to say,” I replied. “I suspect he will be a bit lonely Saturday and Sunday, but as soon as he gets caught up in the routine of school, he should be all right.”
“You and I should make a concerted effort to keep him distracted over the weekend,” Charles said.
“No problem, but it will have to be home based activity. Remember, we are on duty this weekend.”
“I know,” he said, “we will have to take turns. I’ll think of something to do with him tomorrow, and you can do so on Sunday, or vice versa.”
“The gang will be over for pizza by the pool tomorrow evening, that will help,” I said.
“That sounds like a plan for the weekend,” he said.
Gran said goodnight and went to her room. Charles went to the sound system and selected some more music. He walked back to the sofa, and sat down next to me as soft piano music began to come from the speakers.
“What is that?”
“Satie,” he said, “more specifically the Gymnopedies.”
“I don’t know him at all,” I said.
“He was a contemporary of Ravel and Poulenc, and considered to be a forerunner of the minimalist movement.”
“I don’t like the so-called minimalist music, but this is charming.”
“Yes, isn’t it?” he said.
“Are we going to wait up for the boys?”
“You know we are,” he said. “We might as well get some practice with Steve until he goes off to college. That should prepare us for fifteen or twenty years of waiting up for Mark and Steve.”
“Too true,” I said. “We need to think of a way to differentiate between the two Steves now in residence.”
“How about ‘Big Steve’ and ‘Little Steve?’”
“I was thinking more along the lines of Steve for my nephew, and Steven for my son.”
“That will work just as well,” he said.
“Good. I’m still getting used to the concept of being able to say ‘my son.’”
“I know what you mean.”
We each settled down with a book and I had dozed off on the sofa by the time the boys came trooping up the stairs and into the study. Their chatter woke me up, and I snapped out of it when Steve said, “You guys didn’t have to wait up for us, Uncle Philip.”
“Of course we did,” I said. “We couldn’t possibly go to sleep knowing that the three of you were on the loose in the big bad wicked city.”
“How was the movie?” Charles asked.
“It was good,” Jeff answered for the three of them.
“Do you guys need a wake up call tomorrow morning?” I asked.
“Yes, please,” Jeff said. “If we aren’t already up by seven.”
“You got it,” Charles said.
They said good night and left for their rooms. Charles went downstairs to secure the house, and I went into the nursery to check on the babies. He joined me in our room a few minutes later, and we crawled into bed.
-To be continued-
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Your feedback, as always, is appreciated, be it good, bad, or indifferent.
All of my stories can be read on the Rainbow Community Writing Project Website:
http://www.rcwp.homestead.com/
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