Jerry
By:
Will B
(© 2009-2010 by the author)
Ably Assisted by Ed
The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's
consent. Comments are appreciated at...
From Chapter 27
Ricky has been reunited with his best friend, George, and a social worker, Rod McElroy, has seen to it that Trace and Jerry have been granted ‘temporary custody’ of the two boys. Rev. Chet has received an invitation to attend an international conference at Lambeth Palace in London.
Chapter 28
It was 10:30 in the evening at the Souchard. Trace and Jerry and Sam and Pete had worked hard to furnish a room on the top floor for Ricky and George. The room was two doors away from that shared by Trace and Jerry.
The room was painted light blue and had dark blue curtains at the window, which provided a beautiful view of the Pacific Ocean. The furniture consisted of two twin beds, two desks, one with George’s computer on top, and two chairs. There were two chests of drawers and two large cupboards where the boys could hang their clothes. The room had its own bath with a shower, toilet, and wash basin. Several table and floor lamps provided plenty of light.
When Ricky and George saw their room, all Ricky could say was “Wicked!” and George exclaimed “Cool, man!” They really liked their new room.
Trace and Jerry said good night to the boys and were pleasantly surprised when both boys gave each of them a hug.
“Thanks, Trace,” said Ricky.
“Oh, yeah! Thank you, Jerry. This is great,” added George.
“Okay, boys, lights out in thirty minutes,” said Trace. He and Jerry went to their room, but in another minute there was a knock on Ricky and George’s door.
“Come in,” said Ricky and in walked David.
“Hi, David, I guess you came to get your clothes back, and I just bet you were hoping I was still wearing them so you could see me take them off. Weren’t you? Huh?” teased Ricky.
“We-e-e-ll, if it’s convenient…,” said David.
“Sure. Here you are,” said Ricky and quickly slipped his tee-shirt over his head, standing there with his chest showing some definition appearing, and with a few strands of hair beginning to show on his chest.
“Uh-h-h, well, thank you,” said David, “But didn’t I loan you some shorts also?”
“Oh, yeah, I forgot,” said Ricky. “Here they are,” and he started to slide his shorts down below his waist.
“Oh, no. These aren’t yours. These are some of the things Rev. Chet bought for me. Your shorts are over here,” and Ricky went to the chest of drawers and got out the rest of David’s clothes.
“Thanks, I guess,” said David. “I thought…. Oh, well, never mind.”
“Sorry, friend. I know what you thought, and I hate to disappoint you, but….”
“That’s all right. Well, good night.” David sighed as he left the room.
Ricky and George were quiet for a while before Ricky said, “You know, I think it would be a good idea to push these twin beds together.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” said George. “Let’s do it.” So the two boys pushed the beds together.
“George, I’m going to take a shower, and then you can take yours.”
“Good idea,” replied George.
Ricky took his shower and came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. “Your turn,” he said to George.
George took his shower and when he came back into the bedroom, he saw Ricky was looking out the window at the beautiful night sky, studded with stars, and at the peaceful ocean.
George walked up behind Ricky and put his arms around Ricky and said, “I’m so happy. I’m with you, and we have a wonderful place to live, and Trace and Jerry are almost like the fathers we never had.”
Ricky put his hand on George’s arms and squeezed them gently, pulling them tighter around his waist. “Um-m-m-m-m-m,” he said as if in agreement. Then he said, “George, we’ve wanked each other off many times, but tonight, I … I … I just want … to … to kiss you.”
“Sure, Ricky,” and Ricky kissed him—on the mouth.
Then Ricky said, “George, I want you to … to … kiss me all over … all over my body. Please.”
George looked at Ricky with growing comprehension in his eyes, and he did just that, He kissed Ricky everywhere, and Ricky kissed him back … everywhere.
As the two boys kissed, their hands moved over the other’s body, caressing, holding, squeezing and exploring. Their moans of delight grew louder and louder, and they sank down on the beds to continue their lovemaking.
* * * * *
In Trace and Jerry’s room, two doors away from Ricky and George’s room, the two new ‘dads’ were discussing several things.
“Jerry, we need to get Ricky a computer of his own.”
“Right, and then we need to get them into Bruce and Chad’s classes, so they can continue their education,” Trace stated.
Even this far away, the two could hear the sounds of two beds being pushed together.
“Hmm!” Trace mused. “I’ll bet one part of their education is continuing right now.”
“Duh! Ya think?” smiled Jerry.
“On an even more serious note, my love, I saw on the internet that Mexico City is going to allow same-sex marriages, and the city fathers are going to allow gay couples to adopt children,” Trace said. “Do you think we…?”
“Oh, Trace, my dear, dear Trace, we couldn’t be more committed if we had fifty pieces of paper, one from each state in the Union, saying we were married, but what if we did go to Mexico City and ‘tied the knot,’ and then adopted our two boys, that would be just…wonderful,” Jerry replied, and he had more than a hint of moisture in his eyes.
“I think we need to ask Tad and Ron and Rod McElroy to come to the Souchard for a conference. We’ll invite them for a weekend, on the house, and we’ll tell Rod he can bring a friend if he likes,” Trace said.
“Oh! That’ll be wonderful,” said Jerry, and then he added with a look of devilment on his face, “I’d kind of like to see Rod out on the beach without his briefcase, heh heh heh!”
“You dirty old man, you! You just want to perve on his cock and balls and his butt, and … oh, what am I going to do with you?” Trace began to ham it up.
“Here, I’ve given you the best years of my life and you want to chase after some young pretty cock … I’ve a good mind to go home to Mother!”
Trace began to give some violent (pretend) sobs.
Immediately, Jerry was contrite. “Oh, Trace, I’ve been so bad. I think you need to punish me, and punish me good!”
With that, Jerry slipped out of his briefs, and lay face-down on his bed and put a pillow under his mid-section. He wiggled his butt invitingly, and reaching behind him, he pulled his cheeks apart.
“Come on, Captain Ahab; sink your harpoon in this oh-so-willing whale. Sink it. Sink it hard and sink it deep!”
Trace shed his briefs and lay down on top of Jerry and nuzzled his ear. “Listen, my love, you can perv at anyone you want, but your ass is mine! Got that?”
“Oh, yes, Trace, I’ve got that, and I’ve got you. Now! Punish me! Sink your spear into my love canal. Make me shiver and quiver…”
There was no more talking that night, but there was communication of the highest sort between two sets of lovers, but do not worry! Not a single drop of man juice was wasted in the telling of this tale.
* * * * *
Our story moves to London, four days later.
A Lear Jet landed at Heathrow Airport. Rev. Chet stood up, getting ready to exit the plane.
“Is everything all right, Reverend Chet?” Ezek asked.
“Oh, yes, Ezek, everything was just great. Please thank your father for me for putting this jet at my disposal.”
“It is our pleasure, Reverend!”
“Please. Just call me Chet.”
“As you will … Put it there, Chet,” said Ezek, extending his hand.
The two men shook hands and Chet walked down the steps from the jet to the tarmac where his friend Gerald Winterson was waiting to drive him to Lambeth Palace. He turned to wave to Ezek, went to clear customs, and then got into the car.
“How have you been, Gerald?”
“Pretty well, thank you, my friend. I have been busy arranging this conference. I hope it goes well. We have some guests from widely divergent backgrounds coming.”
“Who all will be there?” Chet asked.
Besides you, we are having the Chief Rabbi of Paris, the Imam of Rabat, a representative of the Greek Orthodox Church, and a representative of an Arab Sheik. The sheik’s name is Sheik Mohammed Farouk, but I think he is sending one of his sons.”
“Quite a crowd.”
“Yes, and we are hoping that a certain young man, highly placed in British Society will be there. If he comes, remember you just have to address him as ‘Sir.’”
“I think it will be an interesting meeting,” Chet mused.
“It will be that,” Gerald replied. “I’m going to get you checked into your hotel, take you to dinner, and then drive you Lambeth for our initial meeting.”
“Sounds like a plan,” said Chet.
“Ah, yes. Now, would you like a typical English meal of bangers and mash, followed by ‘toad in the hole,’ and Yorkshire Pudding, or would you rather have an American dinner, say a McDonald’s ‘Big Mac’ and French fries?”
“Anything you say, old friend. I’m hungry enough to eat the proverbial horse. I’ll put myself in your hands.”
Gerald thought to himself, ‘Hmmm. Wonder if I should tell Chet about that guardsman who was hung like a … No, better not, but that young man was … oh, well.’
Chet thought to himself, ‘Hmmm! Time was when Gerald’s hands could thrill me….’
The time passed quickly. Chet was shown to his hotel room, and while Gerald waited, Chet took a shower and changed his clothes for something suitable for dining out. They didn’t go to a British pub, or a McDonalds, but had a very nice dinner at an elegant restaurant where the impeccable service was surpassed only by the delicious food.
After dinner, the two men drove to Lambeth. As they drove, Gerald told Chet something of the history of the Palace, which had been the London residence of the Archbishop of Canterbury for nearly eight hundred years.
As they drive through the imposing gateway, Gerald told Chet that Morton's Tower, built in 1490, was still used as the main entrance into Lambeth Palace.
Gerald showed Chet into the large room where the meeting was to be held. Dominating the room was a large round table with ten chairs. Chet was awe-struck by the beauty of the room. “Was this one of the rooms dating from the 15th century?” he asked Gerald.
“No,” his friend told him. “This room dates from 1950. The Palace was hit by German bombs during the War, and this is one of the rooms that was built later.”
At this point other people came into the room, and Gerald introduced Chet to all of them beginning with the Archbishop himself.
“Your Grace, I want to thank you for inviting me,” Chet said.
“I was happy to do it. Gerald has told me about your interest in the plight of abused children,” said the spiritual head of the Church of England.
Gerald introduced the Chief Rabbi of Paris, the Imam of Rabat, and the representative of the Greek Orthodox Church. The last person to enter was Ezek, son of the Sheik.
“Chet, I’d like you to meet…” Gerald began.
“I know him already,” Chet said, smiling, as he shook Ezek’s hand again. “He and his father’s crew flew me from California to London in their Lear Jet.”
After a few moments the Archbishop said, “Gentlemen, shall we take our places?”
Just as everyone had been seated, the doors opened and a tall red haired young man entered, The Archbishop stood up quickly and said, “Your Roy…”
“Just Harry,” said the young man, interrupting the Archbishop. “Just call me Harry. I’m here as the representative of a certain highly placed personage who is so pleased that I am continuing the work my mother was so interested in.”
Yes, well, let’s begin. Sir, if you will sit here.” The Archbishop introduced Harry to all the others.
“Sir, your mother was a saint. I know she would be proud of the way you and your brother are concerned with the plight of the less fortunate,” said the Rabbi.
“Yes, Will recently spent a night sleeping in the streets so he would have a clearer idea of what homeless people had to put up with.”
“Truly, kind hearts are more than coronets, as one of your poets has said,” added the Imam of Rabat.
The conference got under way, and everyone talked about the plight of abused children. Ezek discussed how in many countries in the third world, children, boys and girls, were sold by their parents into brothels, where they were forced to perform acts with adults who paid for the children’s services. As a result, disease was rampant among these brothels.
“Tshaaa! What kind of parents would do this?” the Rabbi asked.
“They probably do it because they don’t understand about disease, and they mistakenly think that their child would be better cared for in the brothel than in the streets,” replied Ezek.
Chet talked about his friends Trace and Jerry and how they were providing homes for young men who had been living on the streets in San Francisco. He went on to relate how the ‘Residence’ had been built thanks to the generosity of the Sheik.
“I wish we could have some more of these ‘safe houses’ around the world,” said Father Nicholas of the Greek Orthodox Church.”
“There are several problems that we have to consider,” said His Grace of Canterbury. “We have to find properties, we have to find money, and we have to find staff who will work with these young people.”
Harry said, “My grandmother has asked the Prime Minister to appoint a committee to see if there are any abandoned buildings in the vicinity of London that might be put to use.”
“I can ask the French government to investigate the matter,” said the Chief Rabbi.
Others at the table also talked about what they could do.
Ezek cleared his throat and said, “My father, the Sheik, whom Allah has blessed, has instructed me to say, that he is willing to make an initial investment of eight hundred thousand dollars, toward each ‘safe house,’ that might be started, and he will be prepared to invest more where needed.”
Gasps went up from everyone else at the table. Both the Archbishop and Chet closed their eyes and said a silent prayer of thanks for this generous man. Harry thought ‘I wonder if Grandmother and the Prime Minister would consider bestowing the Garter*on the Sheik?’
The Archbishop stood and said, “Gentlemen, we have made excellent progress this evening. I suggest we adjourn for now, and we will meet again in the morning to have some more discussion. If you would like to step into the other room, we have some refreshment to offer you.”
The group did adjourn to the other room, where the Archbishop’s staff had laid out tea, Turkish coffee, wine, and various spirits, along with some light pastry. The snacks were tasty and the atmosphere was friendly. ‘Good nights’ were said and the party broke up.
Gerald drove Chet back to his hotel.
“Gerald, would you like to come up to my room for a nightcap?” Chet asked. “I noticed there is a mini-bar in the room.”
“That would be delightful, Chet, but don’t let me have more than one drink or I won’t be able to drive back to Lambeth, I’d … why I’d have to impose and spend the night.”
“Yes, Gerald, that’s what I was thinking,” was all Chet would say.
* * * * *
Back at the Souchard it was day, and Trace was opening the mail. “Look, Jerry, this letter is from a group calling itself the NCCJ. They want to book the hotel for a conference and a ‘talent contest.’”
“Great, Trace, but what’s the NCCJ?”
“Umm, Oh, I see. It's the National Conference of Circle Jerks. The names of some of the chapters are on the letterhead. Oh… Hah hah, listen to these names. The Charlotte Cummers, the Manhattan Manipulators, the Podunk Pole Vaulters. Hah hah.”
“Oh, I don’t know, my sweet. Do you think we can handle this group?”
“All right, Jerry. Get a grip. Hah hah. Yes, I think we can take matters in our hand.”
To be continued.
* The Most Noble Order of the Garter is the premier order of chivalry in the United Kingdom. It is bestowed by the monarch, but the Prime Minister generally advises on the awarding of it.
E’s comment: The Sheik sure is a generous person. It sounds as if Ricky and George are going to be okay. Mexico City, here we come. I don’t think I want to be responsible for cleaning the Souchard hotel when the NCCJ conference takes place
Posted: 01/08/10