Another Ordinary Guy
 by: Hankster

© 2012 by the author

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 7 

The next morning Joey and Ricky woke up nesting together.  Joey’s hard cock was resting comfortably in Ricky’s crack.  Involuntarily it started to enter Ricky’s garden of delight.  Ricky was still greased from last night and Joey’s cock entered easily.  Ricky had never felt such serenity in his life.  He would have been content to lie there like this forever.  Both men just lay there, enjoying the moment.  Joey didn’t pump, and neither of them came, but they both had to pee.

They got up before anyone else in the family.  Ricky asked Joey to dress and go on home.  He determined to come out to his parents and sisters this morning, while they were all still together.  The times when all of them were together was getting rarer and rarer.  He didn’t want anyone present when he dropped his bombshell, except the immediate family, not even Joey.  He prayed that Red was right.  Red always told him that parents already knew, and had come to grips with it, before you ever said a word.

They were all sitting at the table having breakfast, reliving the events of last night’s party.  Maria looked somber, and she kept apologizing for Randy’s behavior.  “I’ve never seen him so drunk,” she lamented.  Ricky’s parents shrugged it off.  The truth is they hated Randy.  Aside from his good looks, they couldn’t see what Maria saw in him.  He was the biggest loser they knew, and currently unemployed.

There was a lull in the conversation, and Ricky said, “You all know I’m going back on the road in two weeks.  I’ve asked Joey to share my apartment while he’s going to Fordham Law School.  That way it won’t be empty, and he’ll be taking care of it.”

“What a wonderful idea,” Mama said.  “I love that boy like he was my own.”

Ricky screwed up his courage, and as fast as he could, lest he lose his nerve, he blurted out, “He is your own, Mama.  I’m gay, and so is Joey.  We’re a couple Mama; we’re lovers.”

The silence was so heavy, Ricky could hear his watch ticking. 

“So the newspapers are right.” Papa finally remarked.

“Yes, Papa, the newspapers are right.  I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I was afraid.  Now, Joey and I are going to live together, and I can’t live a lie anymore.  This is very, very hard for me.  Please don’t hate me.  I couldn’t stand it if you hated me.”  He began to sob.  His family wasn’t quite sure what to do.

Finally his sisters jumped up and embraced him, and his parents followed suit.  Ricky’s face and neck were slobbered with wet kisses, and he could relax at last.

“So where is Joey?” Mama asked.  “I made breakfast for him too.”

“I sent him home.  I was afraid, Mama.”

“Since when have you been afraid of your family?  Call him up and tell him to come right over.”

Ricky and Joey spent the rest of the weekend with Joey’s family.  They all went to church together on Sunday morning, and somehow Maria’s fiancé, Randy, managed to squeeze in between Joey and Ricky.  Ricky was surprised, and Joey was uncomfortable, but Randy didn’t do anything he shouldn’t have done in church.

On Monday morning, Joey went to work.  He had a sales job at Walmart until law school was to begin in five weeks.  He intended on giving two weeks notice today, and moving in with Ricky, just before Ricky went on the road again.

Immediately after Joey left, Ricky’s father drove Mama and Ricky to the bus terminal to take the bus to Manhattan.  This was the morning that they were all to sign the papers transferring Ricky’s trust to him, and into his sole care.

“The guys handling your trust, Ricky, are doing a great job.  I think you should stick with them,” Papa said.

“Amen,” Mama echoed.

When they entered the offices of Bowers and Franklin, Ricky was duly impressed.  The waiting room was lavishly, but tastefully furnished.  The waiting area reeked of success.  Instead of art work, the walls had pictures of the staff displayed in three rows, pyramid style.  At the top were pictures of Mr. Bowers and Mr. Franklin.  The caption under the pictures indicated that they were both retired.  Beneath them were three other pictures; John Smith, CEO, Arn Lindquist, New York City Office Manager, and James Brody, CFO.  Below them were seven staff members, all professional investment counselors.  The clerical staff was ignored, but Ricky figured there wouldn’t be any room for all of them on the wall.

A handsome young male administrative assistant came to take them into Mr. Smith’s office.  Wow, the CEO himself, Ricky thought.  When they entered, Smith stood up and came from around his desk.  Ricky was shocked when  Smith kissed his mother and hugged his father.  Then the other gentleman did the same.  Smith held out his hand to Ricky. “I’m John Smith, and this is our office manager, Arn Lindquist.”

Ricky shook both their hands, and Ricky sized them up.  They were both in their late forties, and Ricky couldn’t figure out who was prettier, Arn in his Nordic way, or John in his all American way.  It didn’t matter.  He liked them immediately, and felt comfortable in their care.

“Arn is going to be your personal account manager,” Smith said.  “Of course, if you want to make a change down the pike, it will be understandable.”  Ricky remembered what his parents had told him, and had no intention of changing anything. 

“Here’s what is going to happen today,” Smith said.  “It will be short and simple.  We are going to sign documents transferring control of your trust from your parents to you.  I’ll have you all out of here in fifteen minutes.  But Ricky, I want you to come back alone as soon as possible.  Arn will discuss with you his investment strategy, and determine who you want to set up as beneficiaries and executors of the trust…you know…in case.  Your father told me on the phone that you are going on tour in two weeks.  Could you come in before that?  We have a lawyer on staff, or you can bring your own.”

“I have signed a million documents with my agent and never had a lawyer.  You see, I trust him implicitly, and my folks have told me to trust you.  Sure, I could come in tomorrow, if you can see me, Mr. Lindquist.”

“That’s Arn, and yes I can see you.  How about 11 AM, and then I’d like to take you to lunch.”

“I’d like that, but if I get spotted, it might not be a very peaceful lunch.”

“I’ll take the chance.  I know a few secluded places.  I’ve lunched with lots of rich people, but never with a celebrity.  It will be a wonderful experience, and all my pleasure.”

**********

It’s a good thing that Arn had a sofa in his office, because Ricky fell on it and nearly fainted.

“Did I hear you correctly?”

“Yes you did.  $550,000,000, give or take a few thousand.  Of course, that was last night.  Just a minute.”  Arn punched something into his computer.  It’s up another $5000, since the market opened about two hours ago.  You’re a very wealthy man.”

“You know,” Ricky mused, “I always hoped the trust fund would make me feel more comfortable about finances, but this is beyond my wildest dreams, and I owe it all to my folks, and to your great management team.  I am truly overwhelmed, and very grateful.”

Ricky named Larry and Red to be the executors of his estate.  He named his parents to be his major beneficiaries.  He set up two trusts, within the main trust, for his sisters, Maria and Patricia.  He arranged it so that their future husbands, whoever they might be, could not get hold of the funds.  Then he wrestled with the idea of naming Joseph Carson as a beneficiary, but they hadn’t even started living together.  What if it didn’t work out?  He decided to ask Arn’s advice.

“Arn, I need to ask you something?  I think the whole world knows by now that I’m gay.  At least, I’ve stopped denying it when the reporters pester me.”

“Yes, Ricky.  I am aware, and I salute you for your honesty.”

“My lover and I have been friends almost since birth, and in a few days we are going to move in together.  I know in my heart it’s for a lifetime, but you can never tell about these things.  Should I, or shouldn’t I, name him as a beneficiary of the trust?”

“Ah, my dear boy, that question is so subjective.  I hardly know how to advise you.  It’s a very personal matter.  When John and I became a couple (Ricky’s eyebrows rose above his hairline) our assets just got mixed up all at once.  Our sons, Brett and Sven, are partnered also, and I think it’s true for them too.  (Ricky’s mouth dropped open larger than it ever had before.)  Why don’t you do this; name your partner as a beneficiary, only if you and he are still together at the time of your demise.  That way, if you split up, and you don’t have a chance to alter the document before you die, he won’t get anything.

Ricky knew instinctively that Arn was waiting for a decision, but he was too stunned by what Arn had just said.  “You and John are partners, and your sons also?” he asked in disbelief.

“Strange, unusual, and true.  We all live together in a two bedroom condo, at least until the boys graduate college.  How does that grab you?”

“Could we continue this meeting at lunch?  I need time to absorb all this.”

Actually Ricky’s mind was too boggled to talk about the strange relationships in Bowers and Franklin.  He wondered if his parents knew.  At lunch, he concluded his business with Arn.  He also instructed him not to make any changes in his investment strategy, at least, not for the present.  When they returned to the office, he signed a lot of papers and got up to leave.

“Would you and Joey honor us, and have dinner with us sometime.  We’ll bring our sons, if you like.  They are just a couple of years younger than you.”

“It would be our pleasure.  I’ll be in touch with you a lot now, and I’ll let you know when I finish my tour.  I’ll be home for a while after that, and we can get together.”

Before Ricky left, Arn checked his computer again.  Ricky was $10,200.00 richer than when he had come in the day before.

“One more thing,” Arn said.  He reached into his desk and took out a check book.  “This is yours,” he said. 

Ricky glanced at the blank checks.  The name on the check book was Enrique Alberto, his legal name.  Suddenly, he knew that he would never change his name legally.  It would be a slap in the face of his parents.

When they parted, Ricky and Arn hugged each other warmly.

Joey moved in a few days earlier than he had expected.  He and Ricky had four whole days before Ricky went back on the road.  Larry and Red kept pestering them to have dinner with them, and hit a few hot night spots, but the soon-to-be separated lovers, preferred to stay home and make love.

Both sets of parents kept calling to see if their kids were all right, and they always called at the worst possible moment.  Ricky and Joey were invariably at the height of their passions when the phone rang, and it would be one set of parents or the other.  After a while they resigned themselves to it, and laughed it off.  They figured that sooner or later they would stop calling, at least, not as often.

The morning before Ricky was set to leave, the phone rang again.  Ricky glanced at the caller ID.  It said Brett.  It sounded familiar, but Ricky couldn’t quite place it.  Anyway, very few people had his cell phone number.  If it was a wrong number, he could hang up.

The caller identified himself as Brett Smith, John Smith’s son.  The bell went off in Ricky’s head.

“Of course,” Ricky said.  “It’s nice to hear from you.  What’s cooking?”

“Well Sven’s dad said you were going on tour tomorrow, and Sven and I wondered if you would like to join us for a night on the town.  We would love to meet you.”

“Hey man, that sounds like fun.”

“There’s a great little restaurant in The Village that features a drag show every night.  Besides a really great show, the food is excellent and inexpensive.”

For a moment Ricky froze.  What if the paparazzi caught him in a gay night spot?  Then his rational mind told him he didn’t have to give a fuck any more.  He and Joey were out and proud.

“We’d love to meet you there tonight,” he answered.  They agreed on a time and Brett gave him the name and address of the restaurant.

“How will we know you?” Ricky asked.

“Easy, we look just like our fathers.  Don’t worry.  We’ll know you.”

Ricky had to laugh.

When he hung up, Ricky felt unusually happy and content.  He realized that if he and Joey hit it off with Brett and Sven, they would be their first real friends in the gay community.  He considered Larry and Red to be friends also, but they were older, and he fit them more in the category of mentors.  When he told Joey how he felt about making some friends in the gay community, Joey got the same feeling of contentment.

The four young men really hit it off great.  Sven and Brett were going into their senior year at Columbia, and Joey was starting Fordham Law in just a few weeks.  The drag show really turned them on, and they were all wealthy enough to generously feed the drag queens’ G-strings with lots of dollar bills.  They hated to part, but Joey made plans with Sven and Brett to get together while Ricky was away, whenever their busy schedules would allow.

Four very young men parted feeling exceptionally good about life. Fortunately they were all too young to have been hit by any kind of adversity… yet. 

To be continued...

(Author’s note: The Investment Managers, John Smith and Arn Lindquist, and their sons, Brett and Sven, were leading characters in a short story I wrote called Summer Romances.  The story is posted on this website.)

Posted: 07/06/12