Lust, Loyalty, Love
By: Morris Henderson
(© 2008 by the author)
 

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

PREFACE

This is the story of a nineteen-year-old who first appeared as a secondary character in another story, “An Improbable Love,” (on the Morris Henderson page of www.tickiestories.us). In that story, he was an intelligent but unwise young college student. Lust and the inability to control his frantic search for sexual gratification resulted in several incidents of foolish behavior in which he was embarrassed, frustrated, and, occasionally seriously injured by those he had inappropriately propositioned. Finally recognizing his need for professional help, he told his parents that he was gay and needed counseling -- not to ‘cure’ his homosexuality but to control his compulsive and thoughtless advances on other men. The chronically homophobic couple was furious and threw their ‘disgraceful’ son out onto the streets of New York City to fend for himself.

On with the story

Cory sat nursing a ginger ale at the end of the bar as he eyed the clientele and hoping that one of them might provide him with sex and cash--both of which he desperately needed. In the weeks of hustling following his being thrown out of his home by a bigoted and tyrannical father, he had only a few “customers” and too little income to meet his needs. He was homeless and frequently hungry.

The bar on the fringe of Greenwich Village in New York City was small. It had no dance floor, the music was somewhere between elevator music and soft rock, the entrance was as nondescript as the subdued ambiance inside, and the drinks were overpriced. It was not the sort of place that would attract young men. However, over the years, it had become known to older, more affluent men--both married and single--as the place to go to discretely meet others whose sexual appetites were best satisfied by coupling with like-minded men.

The proprietor, Pat O’Reily, was a grizzly 60-year-old retired policeman who laid down strict rules of behavior and had the attitude and musculature to enforce them. The patrons understood the rules: no fondling, masturbation, or other sexual contact was permitted on the premises. The first offense drew a stern warning tempered with the promise of hospitality and anonymity in subsequent visits. After a second violation, the nonconforming patron was banned for life.

Pat was owner, bartender, and bouncer although, because of his mature and well-mannered clientele, having to eject a misbehaving patron was extremely rare. He was also an astute businessman, which led him to accommodate the tastes of several customers who preferred young, barely legal teens. He therefore tolerated young hustlers--at least those few who met his high standards--to hang around.

Cory was lucky enough to learn, in a conversation with another hustler, about the bar. “Why don’t you work that bar?” Cory asked when told of the bar.

“I scoped it out,” was the reply. “But the owner don’t allow no soliciting. How’s a guy gonna make any money unless he comes on to a John?”

Cory was, however, desperate. With little experience and less skill hustling, he had had little success. He was nearly broke and hungry. It seemed he was always hungry. The weather was turning chilly and he didn’t want to spend the coming winter in the cold. He walked (to save subway fare) down to Greenwich Village. After some searching, he located the bar only to find it was closed. The sign on the door gave the hours: “6pm to 1am Monday thru Saturday.” Cory would have to wait an hour for the bar to open.

At six, the owner unlocked the door and Cory went in.

“How old are you, sonny?” the owner growled.

“Nineteen, sir.”

“Ya don’t look it. Lemme see your ID!”

Satisfied that Cory’s Driver’s License was valid, the owner said, “Okay. What’ll you have?”

“Nothing, sir. I was hoping that you might like to have a young man around to...well...be available if any of your customers are interested in conversation.”

“What makes ya think I’m interested in that?” the owner challenged.

“A colleague suggested that you would be,” Cory replied.

“A colleague?” the owner asked. “Who?”

“I’m afraid I only know his first name: Larry. But he’s quite successful in his work uptown.

“Dark hair? About five six or eight? Maybe 160 pounds?”

“Yes, sir. It seems we have a mutual acquaintance. He said that his employment demands were unacceptable to you but I’m willing to abide by your rules.”

“Ya talk like a college kid. Why the hell are ya asking to work here?”

“That’s a long story, sir. Let’s just say that unfortunate circumstances have led me to use my skills and bring satisfaction to others.”

The bar owner, who was impressed with Cory’s good looks when they met, was even more impressed with his confidence and ability to ask for work without explicitly admitting he was a hustler. Still, he wanted to be sure of what the boy wanted.

“Let’s cut the bull shit, college boy. You want to hang around here in the hopes that some horny old man will come on to ya and pay ya for time in the sack. Is that it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now that we got that settled, whore boy, ya got to show me what ya got. My customers expect quality! Come with me.”

Cory followed Pat to the rear of the bar. When they entered the rest room, he suspected what the owner wanted. If he had to give a free blow job, he would do it.

“Take off yur shirt and drop yur pants to yur ankles,” the owner commanded.

Cory complied.

The owner looked him up and down for a long time before saying, “Nice! Put yur clothes back on and come out to the bar. I’ve got some questions for ya.”

When Cory returned to the front of the bar, Pat said, “Ya know not to solicit sex in here?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Don’t even start a conversation with a patron. Talk to ‘em only if they speak to ya first. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Cory replied but the disappointment was obvious in his expression. Moreover, he was not quite sure that he could control his lust. Too many times in the past, he had come on too quickly to the wrong people and suffered the consequences.

“It ain’t all bad, kid. Some of the horny guys are sure to come on to ya...especially since yur a good-looking piece of meat. Chat ‘em up but make damn sure they’re the ones asking for yur service. Got that?”

“Got it.”

“Ya got a decent place to take ‘em to?”

“No, sir. I’m afraid I’m...well...I’m looking for a place to stay.”

“Living on the street then, are ya?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Pat thought for a moment before saying, “Ya got a nice body. Ya talk real good. I think my customers would like ya so you’d be good for my business. But don’t forget you’re on probation! I’ll be watching ya! One wrong move and yur out on yur ass!”

“Thank you sir. I’m sure you won’t be disappointed.”

“One more thing, kid. Ya gotta clean yourself up. Ya look good for living on the street but my customers will want something better than what ya are now. Ya got a place to shower and shave?”

Cory didn’t want to admit how he tried to keep clean and how infrequently he was able to do so. “That may be a problem, sir, but I’ll do my best.”

“Hmmm,” Pat mused. “Tell ya what. Ya can hang around tonight just to get a feel of the place. When we close, ya can come home with me...sleep on my couch...shave and shower tomorrow before we open up.”

“That’s very kind of you, sir.”

“No it ain’t! I ain’t no charity! I’m only doing it ‘cause I want ya presentable for my customers. It’s a temporary arrangement...until you git yur own place. We got a deal, kid?”

“Deal! And thank you, sir.”


CHAPTER TWO

And that’s how Cory came to be sitting in the bar, eyeing the clientele. Most of them noticed him sitting there but no one approached him. He was increasingly discouraged at the patrons’ lack of interest in him. In three long nights at the bar, no one had said more than hello to him. One bright spot in his life was that Pat agreed to let Cory go home with him after closing the bar.

He needed money. He needed sex more. It took every ounce of discipline he could muster to hold himself back from propositioning a patron. But that, he knew, would cost him a place to sleep and a venue to subtly offer services.

On the fifth night at Pat’s apartment, the bar owner said, “The couch has got to be uncomfortable, kid. Would ya like to sleep with me?”

“The couch is fine, sir,” Cory replied, thinking it was far better than anything he had suffered through lately.

“Let me put it another way,” Pat said. “I get lonely by myself. I ain’t shared a bed with nobody for too long. I’d really like ya to come to bed with me.”

Although the old man tried to maintain his gruff persona, Cory suspected that Pat was implying an interest in having sex. He found that to be enticing -- partly because he wanted to repay his host’s hospitality but mostly because he was horny and would welcome the sex. However, he thought he had better play it safe and let Pat set the agenda.

“Okay,” Cory replied. “If that’s what you want.”

They undressed in Pat’s bedroom. Cory noticed the old man couldn’t stop admiring his youthful body. He was, of course, flattered but welcomed the additional clue that Pat might interested in more than a night’s sleep. To more accurately assess the man’s interest, he removed his clothes seductively -- without being too obvious -- while the man sat on the edge of the bed in just his boxers watching Cory disrobe.

Finally down to only his boxers, Cory asked with a deliberate hesitancy to convey innocence, “Is it all right if I sleep in the nude, sir?”

Without taking his eyes away from the young man’s crotch, Pat said, “Sure, kid. And cut out the ‘sir’ crap. That’s okay in the bar. It shows respect fer yur elders. Customers like that. But here, we can be friends. Call me Pat.”

Cory grinned and slid his boxers down, letting them fall to his ankles. Pat’s eyes were riveted to Cory’s soft cock hanging down impressively in front of his pendulous balls and below a profuse bush of jet-black pubic hair. Pat hadn’t seen anything so beautiful in years.

Cory took note of the fact that Pat was developing a tent in the front of his boxers. That was all the evidence he needed for the man’s intentions. On impulse and contrary to his plan to let Pat set the agenda, he took three steps toward the man so that he was standing within arm’s reach of his host. “You can touch it if you want,” Cory said softly.

Without a word, Pat reached out and began fondling Cory’s cock and balls. He seemed to Cory to be relishing the opportunity immensely and, indeed, he was.

Pat watched the young man’s cock began to swell and then slowly rise to a nearly vertical shaft of hardened readiness. Still without speaking, much less asking for permission, Pat grabbed both of Cory’s ass cheeks and pulled him closer. He started licking up and down swollen member and progressed to sucking on Cory’s balls, while delving deep into his ass crack with fingers on both hands.

The expert stimulation put Cory into a state of euphoria that, for all its intensity, was no match for Pat’s crescendo of arousal.

After an extended period of licking the young man’s cock and balls and rubbing his puckered hole, Pat wrapped his lips around the helmeted cock head. Moving his head up and down, he gradually took more and more into his mouth until the entire length of the shaft was embedded in his throat.

Cory tried valiantly to prolong the intense pleasure but finally had to exclaim, “Pat! I can’t hold back! I’m going to cum!”

His warning was met by a firmer grip on his ass. Several volleys of hot cream erupted into the old man’s throat. “Arghh! Oh God!” Cory screamed as the throes of orgasm engulfed him. His legs began to lose their strength and he had to brace himself by holding on to Pat’s shoulders. Pat continued to suck out the remaining drops of cum, which only added to Cory’s continuing pleasure.

Moments later, Pat released the softening cock and the fully satisfied boy’s strength returned. Cory dropped to his knees and mouthed the man’s stiff cock through his boxers. But Pat raised the young man and guided him to lie on the bed. Lying beside him, he said softly, “I’d rather fuck ya.”

“If that’s what you want, sir...I mean Pat. But I’ve never been fucked so please be gentle.”

“What! Yur a virgin?!”

“Back there, yes.”

“Hot damn! Ain’t fucked a virgin since I was eighteen. Don’t worry, kid. I’ll go slow and easy. Just lemme know if it hurts. Okay?”

It took a full ten minutes of lubing, fingering, and coaching before Pat dared to penetrate. He began to fear that his erection would fade but the prospect of a young, virgin ass kept his arousal high. As he slowly inserted his throbbing cock into the love channel, he periodically asked if it hurt. But Cory was not to be denied the pleasure of his first fuck and lied, “No. Keep going.”

As Pat began pistonning in and out, the erotic sensations, new to Cory, were indescribably pleasurable. Pat was no less captured by sensual delight. With one final, forceful thrust, Pat released a load of semen deep into Cory’s bowels.

Later, as they cuddled together, the insatiable old man continued to massage his young companion’s chest and stomach, almost overwhelmed by the near-perfect young male body that he admired almost to the point of worship. He ventured occasionally downward to explore the thick pubic hair, fondle the virile cock, and toy with the recently drained balls. The thrill of having his hands roam freely over the landscape of a young man’s naked body was extraordinarily pleasurable. In his younger days, it would have restored his erection but, alas, his aging body denied him any hope of an encore.

Cory enjoyed the attention and was happy that he was able to provide something his host obviously craved. He was blissfully contented; after many weeks of privation and hunger, he was in a warm, clean bed; he had just enjoyed a thoroughly satisfying orgasm; he had experienced his first anal penetration -- all with a man who, in spite of his gruff exterior, was both kind and shared his appreciation for man-to-man sex.

Before Pat tired of his explorations, Cory fell asleep. He awoke late the next morning to find Pat was not in bed but the smell of bacon frying was wafting into the bedroom. He slipped on his boxers, stopped in the bathroom to pee, and walked into the kitchen.


CHAPTER THREE

“Yur probably hungry, kid. Sit yurself down.”

Cory was indeed hungry, which brought back painful memories of near-starvation on the streets but simultaneously made him grateful for Pat’s hospitality. He sat down and watched Pat, who was also wearing only boxers, finish cooking breakfast. He couldn’t help thinking that Pat was remarkably fit, especially considering that he was 60 years old--muscular, thoroughly masculine, and in spite of his slightly bulging waistline and wrinkled face, was quite handsome.

Pat set two plates with bacon, eggs, and toast on the table. “Eat up, kid.”

Before beginning to eat, Cory felt compelled to say, “I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done--letting me hang out in the bar, letting me sleep here, even feeding me. I wish I could repay you.”

“Ya have, kid.”

Cory was temporarily confused by the brusque response. “Oh! Do you mean last night?” he asked.

“Yeah. But I got something to say about that. First off, ya have no idea how much I enjoyed it. But it was sex, nothing more. Don’t get any fancy notions about companionship. I’m smart enough to realize that I’m old and yur young. I can still get it up but not as often as you can. Ya can hustle in the bar all ya want. Let the horny men take ya home or to a hotel. Spend the night if ya want. Get their rocks off and yurs, too. I don’t care what ya do with them. But I’d like ya to live here with me. When ya don’t have a John for the whole night, come back here when yur done. That don’t mean we’re partners. All it means is that you and me can--once in a while--have some sex. That sound okay to you?”

“More than okay, Pat. But I’d like to add one more thing to the arrangement. As soon as I get some money, I want to pay you rent and help with the groceries. I could even give you a share of my earnings.”

“NO!” Pat barked with obvious displeasure. “That’d be like I was a pimp!” Softening his tone, he continued, “Listen, kid. Ya probably can’t understand but listen. I’m an old man. A lonely man. I don’t have family. Even though I’m old, I’m horny. I haven’t had sex with anybody for years. And I can’t recall having any better sex than last night. I’m not asking for sympathy. I’m just telling you straight. Having ya around...and having sex with ya once in a while...is worth more to me than anybody could pay me. Okay, I’ve had my say. Deal or no deal?”

“Deal!”

“Good! Now eat up and get dressed. We’re going shopping. Ya need some better clothes. It ain’t charity; it’s a business expense. If ya look sharp, my customers will come on to ya and spread the word. Don’t even think of objecting. We’re going shopping!”

Pat took Cory to a few upscale stores and bought him three outfits--all very dressy and stylish--and very expensive, the type of clothes his parents used to buy for him but, he thought, too pricy for Pat’s budget. He protested the extravagance but was silenced with, “Shut up, kid. Business is business. Ya gotta look sharp.”

That night in the bar, the new clothes and his disciplined waiting paid off. A man of about 40, wearing a suit and tie, sat next to him and struck up a conversation. Before long, the man invited Cory to spend the night with him. Cory discretely quoted a price and the John readily agreed.

Cory could felt proud when he told Pat he was leaving with a customer for the night but, at the same time, had a touch of remorse that he was betraying Pat’s friendship.

“Good for you, kid!” Pat enthused. “Have a good time! Here’s a spare key. Let yurself in when you come home.”

The grizzly old man’s delight surprised and pleased Cory but it was particularly pleasing to hear the word, ‘home.’ He had a home! Only a person who had been without a home for weeks could fully appreciate what that meant.

For the next few weeks, Cory had a customer nearly every night. He even got to the point of being able to decline the advances of men who he mistrusted or who were unappealing. But he always came home to the man who had rescued him. No matter how much sex he had had with a customer, he always made himself available to the once-lonely, once-sex-starved, but now very happy old man. Pat was not always interested in a sexual interlude but was delighted to simply have someone share his life. Neither Pat nor Cory spoke of being ‘partners’ or of having a ‘committed relationship’ but both had developed an affection for each other. It was what Neil, a friend in college, had described as more important than raw sex but Cory was, back then, unable to fathom.

Cory was now flush with cash. He wanted to share in the rent on Pat’s apartment and help with the groceries but his offers were consistently and emphatically refused. So Cory made a habit of occasionally surprising his benefactor with gifts -- sometimes expensive, sometimes not, but always carefully matched to Pat’s interests and likes. Cory’s greatest gift, however, was the once or twice weekly sex. Cory had more than enough sex with customers to satisfy him but sex with Pat was especially rewarding, given in gratitude for being rescued and with the satisfaction of pleasing a man for whom he had developed a genuine affection.


CHAPTER FOUR

One night a well-dressed and particularly handsome man approached Cory as he sipped his ginger ale at the bar. He introduced himself as ‘Jim’ but that, of course, may not be his real name. After a few minutes, Cory assessed the situation and decided to accept an invitation if one was extended. However, the conversation went on endlessly about the arts, politics, religion, current events, and more. Cory initially participated in the conversation, drawing on his studies in high school and college. Half an hour later, Cory became impatient and began to abandon hope that Jim would not, after all, be a paying customer.

The nature of the conversation changed abruptly, however, when Jim said, “You’re a bright young man, Cory. And very good-looking. Just the kind of person I would like to hire.”

“I’m not looking for a job,” Cory replied dismissively.

“But would you give me a chance to explain it?” Jim asked. “It’s not a job with a company. Let’s say you would be a member of my personal staff.”

“Thanks, Jim, but I’m in business for myself. I have a number of clients and am very happy with my work.”

“I think I know what your business is, Cory. So here’s another offer. Come to my home with me. Right now. I’d like you to meet the rest of my staff. I’ll pay you 200 dollars for two hours of your time. It will not require any of the service that you normally provide to your clients.”

What the hell, Cory thought. The money’s good. I can be back before the bar closes and maybe pick up a customer. Jim is obviously well-to-do and trustworthy. And the mystery is intriguing. “Okay,” he said.

Jim pulled out his cell phone, hit a speed-dial, said, “I’m ready,” and returned the phone to his pocket.

That puzzled Cory but it was not the only thing about this strange man that confused him. On the way out, he told Pat he would return before closing time. As they exited the bar, Jim directed Cory to a limousine that had just pulled up to a stop in front of the bar. Cory concluded that Jim was not only well-to-do but must be very wealthy.

Jim instructed the driver, “Home, please,” and pressed a switch on a console to raise a glass partition between the driver’s and passenger compartment.

“Please forgive my ambiguity back there in the bar,” Jim said. “And thanks for accepting my offer. Now that we’re alone, I can clarify what it is that I’m looking for.”

“I would appreciate that, sir.” Cory replied, reverting to the deferential term, ‘sir.’

“As I said, the position I want to fill is on my personal staff. At any time, either you or I can choose whether to terminate or extend the employment. The salary is 200 per week plus room and board. I will cover all medical expenses should they be necessary. The hours are flexible. You may do as you please most of the time. But I will expect you to make yourself available whenever I desire your services. Does that sound agreeable so far?”

“So far,” Cory said hesitantly. “And what ‘services’ might you require?”

“I’ll be frank. Sex. If that offends you, I’ll pay your for your time and take you back to the bar.”

“No, sir. We both know what I do for a living. But I still need to know more about the situation.”

“That’s understandable. I normally retain a staff of four young men. One of them recently chose to relocate to Florida, leaving a vacancy that is yours if you want it and if you are compatible with my other staff members. You see, I have certain criteria. One is youth and good looks. Another is intelligence. You meet those criteria. Still another is that my existing staff must approve of you. I doubt very much that will be a problem.”

Jim paused to gauge Cory’s reaction but was mildly surprised when the young man said, “I suppose another criterion is my performance, my skill level.”

“Yes, but demonstrating your ability must await completion of a few other details.”

“Such as?”

“First of all, a medical exam. I need to be sure that you’re not bringing something into the household that would jeopardize our health. Secondly, we must agree on certain rules of behavior. You may engage in consensual sexual behavior with me or any of my staff but with no one else ... no one. Are you willing to agree to that?”

That caused Cory to think ... of Pat. “The medical examination is prudent and acceptable, sir. But I can’t agree to the rest.”

“You must,” Jim said. “It, too, is prudent. You may test clean but I can’t risk your picking up some disease later and infecting me or my staff.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I recognize the need for the restriction but I have someone ... someone special ... to whom I owe a great deal. He and I have a bond. It’s not a committed relationship; we’re not partners in the usual sense of the word but I cannot abandon him.”

“I admire your honesty, Cory. That’s a quality I expect in all of my staff. But I must insist on strict compliance.”

At that point, the limousine pulled to a stop in front of a deluxe high-rise condominium on Park Avenue. Cory recognized it; it was just two blocks from his parents’ home but was a considerably more prestigious address.

“As long as we’re here, Cory, please come upstairs and meet my staff. We can talk more about your opportunity over drinks.”

Reluctant but curious about Jim’s staff, Cory agreed.

Jim touched an intercom button and told the driver, “Please wait. My friend will need a ride back to where we met.”

“Yes, sir,” came the reply.

On the way into the building, the doorman said, “Good evening, Mr. Anderson.” That removed Cory’s suspicion that ‘Jim’ was an assumed name; he was obviously not concerned about concealing his identity or address.

“Good evening, Stephan,” Jim replied.

They took the elevator to the penthouse. Upon entering the lavish and very tastefully decorated apartment, Cory almost gasped. But the awe he felt was nothing compared to his impression of the three young men lounging in the expansive living room. They rose to greet their employer and his guest. Cory’s heart skipped a beat as he quickly assessed their stunningly handsome faces and remarkable physiques.

Jim made introductions. “Cory, I’d like you to meet my staff.” Pointing to each in turn, he continued, “This is Felipe. He’s currently attending NYU and will no doubt be a brilliantly successful engineer one day. Next is Sam, recently arrived from North Dakota to enjoy big city life. He spends much of his free time as a tourist, exploring the city. And finally, this is Alex. He’s also new to the staff. As you can see, he spends a lot of time working out in the residents’ private health club downstairs. By the way, you’ll have access to the facility if you join my staff.”

Each of the young men shook Cory’s hand as they were introduced and greeted him warmly. Cory’s crotch was tingling with excitement as he marveled at the ‘stable of studs’ that Jim kept. He had to mentally distract himself to keep his cock from swelling.

“Gentlemen,” Jim said to his three ‘employees,’ “Cory is a successful entrepreneur with a number of satisfied clients. I’m hoping to convince him to join us ... provided, of course, that you agree with me that he has the requisite potential. Why don’t you get acquainted while I fix us some refreshments?”

The three young men ushered Cory into the living room as Jim disappeared through a hallway, presumably to the kitchen.

During a thirty minute conversation, Cory learned more about each of Jim’s staff. Felipe, a relatively short but perfectly proportioned 20-year old, was born in Houston to illegal immigrants. His parents returned to Mexico but, being a citizen and legally an adult, Felipe chose to stay in the U.S. Jim recruited him while on a business trip and brought him to New York with the promise of a more than comfortable life style and the agreement to pay for his college education. Sam was not quite nineteen years old and as handsome as the others. He met Jim while working as a waiter. Although it took three months for him to agree to join Jim’s staff, he was especially effusive about the perks of the ‘job.’ His parents didn’t approve but maintained a friendly if formal relationship with their errant son. Alex, only a few months beyond his eighteenth birthday and the muscular one, grew up in an orphanage, was constantly bullied by the other orphans, and took to body-building as a defensive strategy.

The three would slip in questions to Cory who, because he was made to feel so comfortable, revealed more about his background and interests than he had intended. His potential ‘co-workers’ were impressed with his having attended Georgetown, seemed to be understanding about his past difficulties while seeking sex, and were sympathetic over his parents’ cruel rejection of him. Cory was candid about his temporary period of homelessness and his current career as a hustler. He had to explain how Pat had welcomed him as a house guest but avoided mentioning their special relationship. That, he knew, would have to be negotiated with Jim.

Jim returned to the group pushing a serving cart loaded with a variety of edibles and soft drinks.

“Help yourself, gentlemen,” he urged. “I think it’s time for some serious discussion. Cory, we’re going to talk very candidly. Be assured, however, that if you are uncomfortable with the conversation and want to leave, you’re free to do so. Just say the word. No hard feelings. Okay?”

“Okay,” Cory replied, suddenly a little anxious because of Jim’s warning.

“First of all,” Jim began, “The ‘job’ I’m considering you for is to be my sex partner along with the others you’ve met tonight. You may wonder why I want four partners. The answer is simple. I have a very strong appetite for sex and I’m fortunate enough to be able to afford the variety in partners that I prefer. I select one of my staff to sleep with me every night. That, of course, includes some form of sex before we sleep and often when we wake up. Everyone has a private bedroom but I should add that you and the others are free to have sex whenever you want provided it doesn’t conflict with any request from me for your services. I’ll be reasonable in my demands on your time but I expect you to accommodate my needs. From time to time, we get together for a three, four, or five-way. Does that appeal to you?”

“Yes, sir,” Cory replied in a subdued tone to mask his obvious delight at having frequent sex with such desirable partners.

There are a few other rules. One: all sex with other staff must be consensual. Two: I won’t tolerate jealousy. If you feel I’m favoring someone over you, just get over it. Conversely, if I seem to require more of you than one or more of the others, live with it. Three: kinky stuff is allowed if the participants agree but under no circumstance will there be any unnecessary pain or even the risk of injury. Finally, as I explained on the way over here, I insist that you have no sexual contact with anyone other that those of us in the room right now. Any questions so far?”

“A few,” Cory admitted. “I understand you’re helping Felipe with college. Would I be able to complete my degree?”

“Yes, but it is not part of your basic compensation. I will pay tuition, fees, and books as long as you keep your grades up. But it will be a no-interest loan to be repaid in negotiated installments after you graduate ... or drop out of school.”

“Fair enough,” Cory replied. “I’ve noticed that we’re all young. I assume that is a requisite for continuing employment.”

“True enough,” Jim said. “My staff is young. Let’s say I have a special fondness for youthful partners. To be blunt, they turn me on faster than more mature men. What they may lack in experience and technique is more than offset by their vigor and stamina. Implied in your question, however, is another. This will be a short-term assignment, three years at the most and then I will want to replace you with someone younger. Remember, I mentioned on the drive here that both you and I retain the right to terminate the relationship at will. Does that sound reasonable?”

“More than fair,” Cory acknowledged. “But there’s a final sticking point we must discuss. You insist on prohibiting sex outside the group. I’m not sure I can agree to that. I would easily forego servicing clients. I can assure you that I would not engage in any casual encounters; why should I when I would have this group? But, as I told you before, I have an on-going, very special relationship with a man to whom I owe a great deal. He rescued me from a life of hell and I have developed a great affection for him -- not as a committed partner, he’s already ruled that out but as a very dear and special friend. You see, he’s sixty years old. He has no family. He’s lonely and extremely frustrated. He’s surrounded with gay men every day but, until he met me, couldn’t satisfy his craving for sex. I would hate to deny him the pleasure he needs and deserves.”

Jim was quiet for a few minutes while the three young men tried to understand why Cory would insist on maintaining a relationship when Jim was so generous.

Finally, Jim said, “It’s Pat, then, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir. You may not know the Pat that I’ve learned to know. Under his gruff, demanding, business-comes-first exterior, he’s a true gentleman with compassion and integrity that is rare. He, among all the people I’ve met, deserves to be happy. And if I can bring him that happiness, I will gladly do so.”

Jim seemed perplexed at Cory’s insistence. Why would he want to continue servicing an old man at the risk of losing out on such a generous offer? It presented a dilemma. On the one hand, Cory had the body and mind that surpassed his requirements. They were enough to make his crotch tingle in anticipation of bedding the young stud. Moreover, his loyalty to Pat was an excellent indication that he would reliably conform to the terms of employment. On the other hand, however, granting Cory an exception might set a dangerous precedent; others might request a similar privilege.

After an awkward silence, Jim said, “Well. It seems you have a decision to make: accept my offer and abide by my rules or keep hustling in the bar. I may also have a decision to make: bend my rules or withdraw my offer. I’ll have my driver take you back to the bar while I consult with my staff. Remember, I told you that a criterion for employment was that you must be compatible with them. Can I stop by the bar tomorrow evening for your decision?”

“Of course,” Cory replied. “If I’m not there, I’ll be with a client and you can leave a message with Pat.”

“Hmm,” Jim mused. “Do you intend to discuss my offer with Pat? Including the rule about no outside sex?”

“I don’t know, sir. I know he would strongly encourage me to accept your offer. But I’m pretty sure it would be a great disappointment for him.”

“Very well,” Jim conceded. “Let me call the driver and escort you downstairs. But before you go, let me thank you for your time and for being honest.”

“And I thank you, sir. I appreciate the offer and, may I say, flattered by it.”

Going down in the elevator, Jim gave Cory the promised payment and said, “I’ll stop by the bar early tomorrow with the hope of catching you before you find a customer.”


CHAPTER FIVE

Upon returning to his apartment, Jim summoned his staff and asked them, one by one, for their opinion.

Felipe was impressed by Cory’s articulate conversation and interest in completing his education. He also admitted to being somewhat aroused over the prospect of having sex with a newcomer.

Sam was more guarded in his appraisal. “I can’t be sure, Jim,” he said. “He’s a good-looker, to be sure and he handles himself well in a new situation. But, to be honest, I don’t know much about his body. I wish we could have seen his cock and balls and asshole.”

“He’s got what he needs,” Felipe countered. “He’s been servicing Johns, hasn’t he?”

“I suppose you’re right,” Sam said meekly.

Alex, the former orphan, offered comments that were transparently sympathetic. “He’s had a tough life lately. Lost his parents. Living on the street. I think we should invite him in with us.”

Jim listened thoughtfully to all of the opinions and then said, “But what about his insistence on continuing to have sex with Pat?”

“If he’s clean,” Felipe said, “then we’ve got to know that Pat is clean. That’s what the rule is for isn’t it? To make sure none of us get infected with an STD? I say cut him some slack. Let him visit Pat, maybe twice a week, to get his rocks off.”

The other teens agreed. In the continuation of the conversation, all three promised not to seek any favors similar to the one granted to Cory.

“Thank you for your opinions, gentlemen,” Jim said to conclude the discussion. “I’ll use them to make my decision and let you know tomorrow--after I talk to Cory--whether he will be joining us.”

The limousine stopped in front of the bar. Cory stepped out without waiting for the driver to open his door. Three men were about to enter the bar and were more than surprised to see a youngster exit the limousine and enter the bar. Two of the men were a couple but the third had come with hopes of finding someone to share his bed for the night. He was struck by Cory’s youth and good looks and moved in before anyone else had a chance to snare the prize.

“Hi there,” he said, perhaps a little too enthusiastically.

Cory returned the greeting and went into the bar. The man caught up with him and asked, “Care to join me for a drink?”

Corey, as had become his habit, instantly formed a first impression, concluding, at least tentatively, that he would be an acceptable customer. That was a recent development: being able to accept or reject an invitation rather than having to seize every opportunity.

“No thanks,” Cory said politely. “I’m just stopping by to talk to Pat, the owner.”

“Maybe later?” the man asked hopefully. “If not tonight, I can meet you another night.”

‘Desperate,’ Cory thought. ‘Attractive but a little too desperate. Not cool!’ “Perhaps,” he said as he walked quickly to the end of the bar and caught Pat’s eye.

Pat, responding to Cory’s implied request, came over and said, “Hey, kid. Everything all right?”

“Just fine,” Cory replied. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to take the night off...just go home and relax. I’ll wait up for you.”

“Sure, kid. Tuesday’s a slow night anyway. Are ya sure yur all right?”

“I’m sure, Pat. No need to worry. I’ll see you later.”

Cory walked home. He had a lot of thinking to do. While waiting for Pat to come home, he weighed his options. He could accept Jim’s offer and obey his clear requirement to eliminate outside sex. As he thought about it, the image of a handsome Jim and three extremely attractive teens tended to lure him toward joining Jim’s ‘staff.’ He acknowledged to himself that his sexual appetite was probably equal to Jim’s and, no doubt, his three ‘employees.’ He would never have to take a risk of some John with kinky tastes would inflict pain or injury. Disease would no longer be a worry. Most importantly, his lust for the four males in a luxurious Park Avenue penthouse was powerfully persuading him to make the move.

But then he thought of Pat, a gruff but compassionate man who, without him, would be forced back into a life of lonely isolation. Having tasted the savory wine of sensual delight (He chuckled at the poetic phrasing.) for a few weeks, could he adjust to a life of solitary abstinence and frustration?

As he wrestled with his dilemma, he realized that his affection for Pat (dare he call it ‘love?’) had grown to be a significant part of his new life. But Pat, in spite of being physically fit was inevitably growing older. The day would come, perhaps soon, when he would neither be able nor be interested in sex. Or, for that matter, the obligation of caring for a teenager.

Hours passed and Cory was no closer to a decision.

Finally, he heard the key in the front door lock. Pat came in and immediately asked, “Are ya all right, kid?”

“Yes, Pat. I’m fine. Really.”

“If you say so, kid. By the way, there was a guy kept asking for ya. The guy that came in behind ya. Wanted to know when you would be in the bar again. Stayed till almost closing time. Gave me his card to give to ya. Said you could call him anytime. If ya ask me, which you didn’t but I’ll tell ya anyway, I think ya could double yur price and he wouldn’t bat an eye.”

“Thanks, Pat. I may call him later. Right now, all I want is to be with you. You look tired. Can I give you a massage?”

“Matter of fact,” the old man replied, “That would feel pretty good.”

“Get undressed...all the way...and get into bed. I’ll be with you in a minute.”


CHAPTER SIX

Thinking that this would be the last, or one of the last times with Pat, he was going to make it a very special occasion. He had slipped out during the evening and bought some massage oil. “Relaxing but not too fragrant,” he had told the clerk. Somewhat embarrassed at having to ask, he said, “Can you give me some tips on how to give a massage?”

“That depends,” said the clerk with a grin. “Is it for sore muscles, overall tenseness, or just to provide a pleasant experience?”

Cory certainly would not admit his purpose was erotic stimulation so he said, “Let’s just say overall tenseness.”

The clerk kindly gave him a few pointers and concluded by saying, “Let your patient guide you. Watch her response...or ‘his’ as the case may be.” She tried to gauge her customer’s reaction but Cory gave no clue as to the gender of his ‘patient.’

Having warmed the oil as the clerk suggested, Cory went into the bedroom to find Pat nude and lying on his stomach.

Starting at Pat’s shoulders and neck, Cory slowly worked down to his waist. Then he worked on each leg, working from the soles of the feet upward. “Watch his response,” the clerk told him. He did. Pat was obviously enjoying the attention but his sighs of pleasure increased as Cory began kneading the cheeks of his ass, delving occasionally into the crack and giving prolonged and gentle stimulation to his pucker.

After nearly thirty minutes, Cory said, “Roll over, Pat. I need to do your chest.”

Obediently, the old man rolled over, giving Cory a very contented smile and saying, “Where’d ya learn how to do that, kid?”

“You like it?”

“Never had nothing better,” Pat purred. “Except maybe sex.”

“We’ll get to that,” Cory replied. “That is, if you want to.”

Pat’s face bloomed with a devilish grin as Cory began massaging the broad shoulders and well-defined chest. He worked his way slowly down to the reddish pubic hair and then moved to the inside of Pat’s thighs. As he erotically rubbed oil into the sensitive skin under his wrinkled ball sack, he was delighted to see Pat’s cock slowly inflate. When it reached its maximum stiffness, Cory dropped his head down to deliver the final act of admiration and affection for the old man.

He licked softly and teasingly at first as if playing with the hardened cock to make it twitch. Pat’s moans grew louder--music to the young man’s ears. He wrapped his lips around the bulging cock head and teased it with his tongue, which sent Pat into a state of delirious pleasure. He slipped a finger into Pat’s ass and soon found his prostate. The combination of sensations caused Pat to begin bucking his hips as if pleading for more. Cory let the old man fuck his face until, with a scream and a forceful thrust, Pat buried his cock in the young man’s throat and shot a massive load of cum.

While Pat recovered from his intense orgasm, Cory laid down beside him with an arm draped across his manly chest and his head lying on his shoulder.

Pat was quiet for what seemed to Cory to be an unusually long time but finally said, “Kid, that was fuckin’ awesome. Yur a real pro.”

“If you liked it, Pat, I’m happy.”

They cuddled together for a long time. Both of them were working up courage to express their feelings toward each other.

Cory spoke first. “Pat, I’ve told you many times how grateful I am for helping me. But I’ve got to say something else. The fact of the matter is, Pat, I love you. I’ve never loved anybody except as a little boy loving his parents. I’ve wanted to love somebody for a long time without really knowing what it would be like. Now I know. I know you don’t want to commit to a permanent gay relationship. And I’m willing to accept that. But whatever happens, please understand that I love you.”

By saying ‘whatever happens,’ Cory was, however ineffectually, trying to prepare Pat for a separation should he decide to move in with Jim.

For the first time, Cory saw Pat’s eyes water. The incongruity of tears in the eyes of a gruff, macho, muscular man was astonishing.

“I got something to say too, kid. If I had a son...or a grandson for that matter...I’d want him to be exactly like you. Yur smart. Damn good-looking. Considerate. And ya’ve brought me more happiness than I ever dreamed possible. I don’t mean just the sex, kid, although that’s been a joy. I mean having you around. But I ain’t going to fool myself. I know I’m an old man and ya got yur life ahead of ya. Ya gotta think of yurself, kid. Do what ya gotta do. Don’t let me be a friggin anchor to hold you back.”

Cory kissed Pat on the cheek and said, “I love you. Don’t ever forget or doubt that.”

Pat looked at the adoring boy and said, “I love ya, kid. But let’s not get all mushy about it. Let’s just enjoy the time we got together.”

Cory got undressed and cuddled up to Pat again. Within a few minutes, the old man was sleeping blissfully but Cory was awake a long time, still trying to decide whether to accept Jim’s offer.

The next evening, Pat and Cory went to the bar at five to tidy up the place and re-stock the coolers and shelves. Promptly at six, Pat unlocked the front door. Moments later, a limousine pulled up at the curb outside and Jim strode into the bar.

“Cory,” he said. “Is there someplace we can talk?”

“Pick a table,” Cory replied.

They sat in a corner table at the back of the bar while Pat wondered who Cory’s customer was.

“Before you say anything, Cory. I want to tell you what a fantastic impression you made on my staff. Their opinion of you is just as high as mine. Largely on their insistence, I’ve decided to relax my rules in your case. We all feel that you’re a prize to be won at any cost. In short, pending the medical exam, of course, you have the job. You can visit Pat--but no one else. Knowing the hours he keeps here at the bar, I think daytime visits with him wouldn’t interfere with your duties at my place. Finally, let me say that we are all looking forward to your joining us.”

Cory was surprised at Jim’s concession. He hadn’t expected it. Still, he looked down at his folded hands on the table for several moments before responding.

“Mr. Anderson, sir. I’m immensely flattered by your opinion of me. And I greatly appreciate your invitation, especially allowing me to visit Pat. I’ve thought of very little else since last evening and finally made a decision. I respectfully decline your offer.”

“You what?” Jim exclaimed loudly enough to draw Pat’s attention. Lowering his voice, he continued, “I’m offering you something that other young men would kill for. I’ve even granted your unreasonable demand to visit an old man. How can you possibly justify throwing away such an opportunity?”

“Don’t get me wrong, sir. Your offer was very tempting and extremely generous. You and your staff members turned me on almost to the point of having a full-blown erection and pleading for all of you to strip so I could suck the juices out of you. Like you, I have a nearly insatiable appetite for sex and the thought of having four sex partners constantly available would have been, not long ago, my idea of heaven. All of that complicated my decision. It also made me critically evaluate what means the most to me. I came to the conclusion that I genuinely love Pat. I’m not with him out of sympathy for an old man. I don’t do things for him out of gratitude for rescuing me from the street. That was the case at first but I’ve come to know him, to appreciate what’s below that stern, unschooled exterior. In short, Mr. Anderson, I’ve fallen in love with him. For me, at this point in my life, I have the best of all possible worlds. I can service clients of my choosing to get all the sex I need and come home to a man I love dearly. Sex with him is on a higher plane. And he, by the way, loves me unconditionally. With respect, sir, what you offer is only half of that: plenty of sex but no abiding love.”

Jim stared at the articulate young man in astonishment that gave way to an understanding of what he was saying. Finally, he said, “I was impressed with you when I first saw you, Cory. Our conversation at the bar only increased my high regard for you. Your honesty when we spoke in my apartment revealed to me and my staff your fundamental character. It’s a great disappointment not to have you join us. But I must tell you one more thing. I’m jealous. I’m wealthy. I have all the material comforts a man could want. I have three, sometimes four young studs to fulfill my sexual desires. But I don’t have something that you do: love. I cannot condemn you for refusing my offer. I can only wish you continued happiness.”

“Thank you for understanding, sir.”

Jim stood, flipped open his cell phone, hit a speed dial, waited a moment, and said, “I’m ready.” He returned the phone to his pocket and started walking to the door. Halfway there, he looked at Pat very briefly, turned, and called to Cory, “If you change your mind, you know how to reach me.”

Cory simply said, “Yes, sir.”

Pat came over to where Cory was seated and asked, “What was that all about?”

“Just a customer who didn’t want to take ‘no’ for an answer.”

“Getting pretty picky, aren’t ya, kid? He looked like a live one to me.”

Cory stood and squeezed the old man’s hand. “I’ve got everything I want right now,” he said.

The End.

Posted:12/12/08