Auditing Irregularities - 2. Stuart 2

Almost three months have passed since Stuart came and reviewed our company’s books. He and I decided to keep in contact, usually consisting of saucy emails retelling our memorable evening (and most of the following morning) but we also updated each other of happenings in our respective lives. I decide to drop him a note to inform him of my travel plans.

Date: Sept 13

Stu,

Decided to use some vacation time I had saved up. Visiting some cousins in San Diego, so I figured 213 is close enough to 619. Would like to visit you and invoke our “area code playmate” arrangement. Hope you’re free in two weeks. Would love for you to squeeze me in. Squeeze, fondle, sniff... Whatever works.

Hugs,

L

-----

Date: Sept 14

Lou,

Would love for you to come visit. Where will you be staying?

Stu

First week of October in southern California is a heck of a different universe than Metro NYC! My cousin was headed for an interview in Van Nuys so I decided to visit LA a day before my meeting with Stuart.

Being in a city I haven’t visited since 3rd grade, I was dazed for a few minutes desperately trying to remember a landmark or two. I sipped cappuccino and wandered aimlessly for a few minutes. When I found myself in MacArtthur Park, I get a text from who else?

“Hey, handsome. Can’t wait till you get here tom.”

“Already here. Cousin dropped me off at Mac Arthur Park. Headed toward Walk of Fame”

“Oh? Feel like having a late lunch? 12:30 - 1:00. Meet in front of Ripley’s.”

“Sure, stud. Meet you in an hour.”

“Yup. Can’t wait. Hope you don’t have plans for dinner either.”

“Dude, didn’t even get a chance to check into a hotel yet.”

After playing tourist for about an hour, we had a pleasant lunch of paninis. Stu looked fantastic as ever in his powder blue oxford and blood red tie. I’d tell you the details of our conversation but honestly, I didn’t remember much. I was busy focusing on his radiant face and fine torso. I did manage to snap back to attention as we got to discussing dinner plans.

“No plans yet for the rest of the day, huh?”

“Not a lick. All I know is that my cousin is on standby if I need a ride back to the airport in three days. Any recommendations for a hotel?”

“Good. That settles it. You’re joining me for dinner. And nix the hotel plans. You’re rooming with me.”

“Oh, and where would this dinner be?”

“Dunno. You haven’t told me yet. What would you like to have for dinner?”

“Not really that particular about food. Meat and carbs is a good combo in general. More interested in the company and atmosphere. And you already know I like the company.”

He blushed. Damn it’s easy to make him smile. “Thanks. Okay, so what kind of atmosphere do you envision? Mind you, this’d be our first proper dinner.”

“Hmm. Somewhere nice and comfortable. Not one of those LA hot spots to be seen where we’d have to shout at each other. Quiet and cozy is nice.” We both stood and folded our napkins.

“I know just the place.” He leaned in for a quick peck. “Meet me back here at 6:00.”

Left to my own devices for five hours, I enjoyed the palm tree lined boulevards wondering why the streets aren’t as crowded as Manhattan. It’s gorgeous weather, damnit, why are people wasting it indoors? Variations on the phrase “youth is wasted on the young” came to mind.

A little before 6:00, I stood on the corner of Sunset and Rodeo and headed in the general direction that I remembered him mentioning. And just like the time we met at the gym, I fought the urge to check my cell for incoming messages but was quickly losing. Right hand reaching for the phone, I turned my head toward the sound of a car horn.

A black convertible, top down, pulled up to the curb. Guessing from its silhouette, it must be a 60’s model straight out of the Grease movie set. I almost expected the T-Birds to pop out and service the engine had we been indoors.

He saw my dazed look and crooked his head sideways. A loud click and the trunk jumped up about six inches. I put my duffel bag in it. Closing the trunk, I noticed the maker’s slanted-script insignia.

“Not a car buff, but I really like your taste. Seems like a classic. What year?”

“This puppy is my ’63 Caddy. Classic enough for me. Hope you’re hungry. Made reservations at my buddy’s restaurant.”

My fingers lightly grazed his inner thigh, stopping centimeters from his promised land. “You know I’m always hungry. Especially if Stu is on the menu. Love that dessert. Could even be talked into going for seconds.”

He laughed and put the car in gear. Without his tie and his top button opened, he looked a lot more relaxed. “Oh, I’m sure we can make time for dessert later tonight. For now, I hope you like pasta.”

“Sure, anything you got for me, sexy.” Valuing his life and mine, I reluctantly move my fingers away from his crotch. I moved them down more and squeezed his steely thigh. He seemed content so I left it there.

Not being a Cali native, I was surprised at the early evening sun still keeping us warm for this time of year. Stu drove quietly and remained secretive of his plans so I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. My hand on his mid-thigh was all that kept me connected to reality at that moment.

“Okay, we’re here.”

I opened my eyes and gasped, “Holy shit. I know this skyline. This pier -- they used it a lot for establishing shots in Private Practice.”

“I’m sure they did. The Santa Monica Pier is a great place to shoot film. Thought you’d like it.”

“I do I do I do.”

He parked the car. “Calm down Peter Pan,” he drew me into what I now call his one-arm bro hug, “Or whoever you’re quoting just now.”

“Wasn’t quoting anyone in particular.”

He led me towards a small mom and pop dive. Entering, I was immediately transported into someone’s living room. That is, if someone had a cash register in the corner of their living room.

“Nice place.”

“You asked for ambiance.”

“Ciao, amico. Come stai?” A gray-haired barrel-chested man in a suit thundered his way toward us from the middle of the room.

“Paolo, buddy. Doing well.” Stu lets go of me only to wrap the maitre d’ in a rather strong bear hug. “Paolo, my buddy from New York Lou. Lou, this is Paolo, one of the owners of this fine establishment.”

The usual pleasantries were exchanged.

“Una tavola per due? Follow me.”

We’re led to the back and he pointed to a table for six. “Mario will be serving you shortly.” He placed two glasses and filled them with water from a nearby pitcher.

Not three minutes later, younger version of Paolo with much less gray also thundered down toward us from the kitchen. “Stu, buddy. Glad to see ya.” They proceeded with an even stronger hug.

“Lou, this is Mario, Paolo’s brother and my best friend since college. Mario, this is Lou, a buddy of mine visiting from New York.”

I stood to shake his hand. Mario pulls me into himself instead and envelops his meaty, furry arms around me. “So glad to meet you. Stu doesn’t invite many people here except family, so welcome, amico. You must be special.”

He allowed me enough space to pull back enough to look at him. “Molto grazie.”

Curly tufts of black hair peeked out of his white chef jacket. “Ah. Parla italiano?”

“Studiato nel liceo. Don’t remember much of those lessons, though. High school was ages ago.”

“Stu. You take care of him, eh? I like this one. Don’t let him get away.”

“I’ll try, buddy. I’ll certainly try,” Stu said as he got a firm slap on the rear.

“Cozy.”

We both sat down before he responded, “Yeah. We’ve known each other since we were roommates second semester freshman year. I’d help him out sometimes when his date went bad. Got engaged senior year and he stopped having bad dates.” He smiled at the recall.

“Wow. Bet you helped. Would’ve paid to see that.”

I fell back into my habit of losing myself in his steel gray eyes while he talked animatedly of who knows what.

“Your meal, signori. Shrimp and scallop fettuccine alfredo with cauliflower. Per due. Enjoy!”

“Thank you, Paolo. I’m sure we will.”

“Umm. When did we order?”

“Signor Stuart never has to order when he dines here. He always gets the chef specials.”

Stu waited for Paolo to leave before explaining, “Yeah. Mario and I dreamed a lot together, mostly about the businesses we'd eventually set up. I did his books when he just started and been doing it ever since. And like family, we never charge each other.”

I took a bite of the pasta. “Nice. I’d throw in free payroll services, too, if I can eat like this once or twice a month.”

We finished the meal continuing the easy banter between us. I learned more of his family (married sister with two sons living in Seattle) and couldn’t help in sharing of his pride in building his own firm from scratch.

Too soon, we found ourselves getting up and leaving the restaurant, bidding our adieu to the two proprietors. “Enjoy your evening, signori. Thank you for coming.”

“Yeah, don’t be a stranger, bud.”

“Thanks you two.”

“And as for you, come back anytime. Any friend of Stu’s is a friend of ours.”

“Molto grazie. I definitely will be back sometime.”

Stu led me out of the restaurant, this time with his arm circling my waist. The pier lit by the moonlight was magical. Couples quietly strolled about, conversations in muted tones. Not one to stand out, Stu leaned closer and I turned to face him.

“I’d like to start by apologizing.”

“Apologize? For what? You’ve been nothing but a gentleman leading me in this magical evening.”

“Not about tonight. Tonight is my way of saying I’m really sorry. We met in June and I was smitten by you I could barely control myself.”

By this time, we found ourselves walking on the pier itself. He guided me to the railing and turned me around. While he was still waiting for words to come, I cupped his chin. “I know. I was there, remember? I sat there in the conference room throwing a bone and leaking into my skivvies half the time. When you looked at our equipment room, I scoped your gorgeous ass and thought about many things I’d like to do to it.”

“Yeah, but I forced myself on you our first time.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Babe, I fucked you without protection.”

“Again, why are you apologizing? Who initiated it by forcing his ass on your stiff rod? I wanted it too. I’d want it again, if you’d let me.”

“Thanks, but this is different. You’re different somehow. I’m usually more patient. At least patient enough to wrap my package. You don’t have to worry by the way. I’ve tested negative.”

“Don’t worry either. One, I wanted it. Two, I’m on chemical prophylactics. And three, I’ve tested two weeks after you left, too. Stop worrying. We both acted on our desires and it was definitely consensual.”

“Chemical prophylactics?”

“Think condom in pill form. Take it once a day and it helps the multi-layer approach by attacking the virus directly in the bloodstream. Been taking it for over a year now so I could worry less. Not that I need it much anyway.”

“You let me off too easy.”

“Look at you talking about letting off to easy. Who set up the weights at the gym to 75 lbs?”

“That was a lame excuse for you to look up my shorts, which you did. I knew you were tired so I didn’t load the weights.”

“In any case, I’m not that easy, believe me. Ask Kevin.” At this, I winked. “I made him wait two months before letting him in. Second thought, don’t ask. Don’t want to make him jealous. He's my ex but he's also my boss just now.”

He finally cracked a smile. “He should be jealous. Punish his ass for not choosing you. And thank you. That means a lot.”

“You’d choose me? You didn’t see Eric yet.”

He leaned in for a lingering peck. “Don’t need to. You’re more than enough for me.”

I blushed and turned my attention back to the beach. Surfers lazily sat on their boards, more interested in catching up with each other than catching the next wave. “Nice beach. Thanks for thinking this up, Stud.”

“Glad you like.” He cupped my ass. “Wait till you see what I have planned for tomorrow.”

I plumped in my boxer briefs, curious as hell, and cupped his ass in return. We spent about ten more minutes in quiet silence. What the hell is he planning for me?

He drove me to his studio not that far from the pier. “Welcome to my place. Not the biggest. If we had the weekend together, I’d have taken you to my other place in Malibu.”

“Babe, I don’t care about how big your place is. I’m not with Architectural Digest. I’m here to spend time with you, not date your furniture.” I don’t know who led whom to the side of the couch. “Hopefully, I get to spend time with you on your furniture, but that’s another story.”

“You say the kindest things.” He leaned in and kissed me, no tongue but we definitely communicated our passion through our lips. He reached to unbutton my shirt.

“No, babe. Let’s to strip for each other. Lie back and enjoy the show.” I proceeded to unbutton my own shirt and seductively pulled it over my abs.

“Yeah, baby. Give your daddy a show.” Licking his lips, he rubbed his crotch through the cloth.

I tossed my shirt toward the door and smiled at him. “That’s the thought, Daddy Bear.” I unbuckled my belt and swung my hips side to side, hooking my thumbs on the belt loops and started singing:

♫ I’ll be good to Daddyyyyy
♫ If daddy does good to meeeee

At the last line, I turned around and showed my cloth-covered ass. Not surprisingly, I felt a hand as well as his face on it shortly.

“Babe, you’ve been very good to me,” came the muffled response, his hot breath passed through the cotton and excited my ass crack. “Really tho? Chicago? Matron Momma Morton?”

To which I belt out:

♫ The system works
♫ The system called Reciprocity

“Besides, babe. We can see Chicago as halfway between LA and NY.”

He laughed boisterously and got up.

I stepped off my jeans and he firmly pushed me into the couch. Not really trying to sing, he snapped his fingers and said, “You did one for Daddy.” Snap. Snap. “He’ll do one for ye.”

Damn, that this guy understood my obscure references!

He stepped back a little and starts to unbutton his oxford. I licked my own lips and squinted my eyes in eager appreciation as each button came off. He quickened his pace for the last two buttons but slowed down again after tossing his shirt and lifting his undershirt. Inch by delicious inch he revealed his hairy torso and back. He had his back turned toward me, wife beater halfway pulled up. I grabbed his belt loops.

His firm baritone shocked me. “The audience will be reminded that there is no touching!”

Denied participation, I leaned back and waited. He at least obliged and the rest of the undershirt came off in one swipe.

He made a show of unzipping his cotton slacks before turning around. “Stopped by the department store and got you a gift. Hope you like it.” He widened the opening of his fly and dropped the slacks. His musculature didn’t let them drop, however so they stopped mid-thigh. “Was hoping you noticed when you were fondling the goods earlier but you never went that far. Well, surprise! Feel free to handle them now.”

I pulled his slacks down the rest of the way and was taken aback at the sight. My stud daddy was now clad in a red square-cut trunk with a white garter. Matching white piping was stitched around the leg openings as well as on each side of his crotch. He did a quarter turn. Visually and structurally, his half-plumped manhood was presented in all its rounded glory. I grabbed his just as full ass and pulled him toward me. My nose dove between his thigh and bulge.

“Yeah, take in that scent. I assigned my work to my two senior associates so I can leave my office early. Did more than a half an hour on the treadmill just to get them sweaty for you, my scent hungry man pup.”

Not wanting to back away from my slice of heaven, I spoke into his briefs, “Thank you daddy. I love what you’ve gotten for me.”

“That’s my pup. Sniff daddy’s musk. Warm his nuts as you breathe out.”

We proceeded with the rest of the night slowly getting reacquainted to each other’s curves and cliffs. I took breaks often sniffing and licking his gorgeous furry armpits. “Thanks again daddy bear.”

“Anything for you, sonny. Take your time. Took tomorrow and the next day off since I read your email.”

And take our time we did. We slowly built up the pace and backed down quickly when we felt either one of us get too close.

“That’s it, pup. Suckle daddy’s nipple.”

I continued to do so noisily while fondling his softening cock.

“Yeah, work on my dick. Don’t let it get too soft. It’s gonna ram your ass soon.” He reached into his nightstand drawer for some glycerin. He coated his fingers and started preparing my ass. “What’s it gonna be, pup? Want me to suit up?”

My mouth relinquishes his rock hard nipple and I look at him. The concern in his eyes caused me to soften mine, “Daddy bear, told ya, I’m up on my pills. You’ve already had me once unprotected. Never had anyone since, covered nor not. It’s up to you. I want to be putty in your hands.” I turned back to his chest and languidly lick a nipple.

“Pup isn’t being fair. Daddy can’t concentrate with you licking me up like that. Besides I can’t say that I’ve had nobody else. You’re the last one I had uncovered sure, but there were others that I covered for after you.”

I vent my slight annoyance on his poor nipple and suckled hard before looking back at him. “Daddy bear, it’s okay. You’ve made your apology at the pier. Besides we didn’t commit to be long-distance lovers and forsake all the rest. I didn’t and couldn’t demand that of you. For purposes of this visit, I’m all yours. As much as you want. If tomorrow morning you send me home, then I’ll go home happy that I’ve got to spend time with you.”

I leaned in and kissed his lip. “I know I could easily fall in love with you but that’s a lot of stuff to talk about. Right now, I want to spend time with the guy who banged me explosively earlier this summer and continued to chat with me for the rest of the summer. Do you know how many people try to talk to ya after they got in your pants? You may not have gotten me drinks but those little chats meant a lot -- even more than some half drunk trying to get into my pants at a bar. For a guy to keep on talking to me without expectation of an immediate reward. Not to mention changing his boxers midday to get constricting cotton, all for the sake of pleasing his bed partner... Babe, that’s definitely A-game. Hell, that’s A+ game in my book. Now can you just shut up and claim your reward?”

His lubed hand suddenly grabbed my neck and violently pulled me into his kiss. Our lips, tongue, and tonsils got lost in each other’s ministrations. His cock suddenly thrust and rubbed next to mine. His left hand drew my hip closer to him. He growled into my mouth and his dick spat in between our chests.

“Wow, babe. Don’t know if someone made me cum so hard just by giving a speech.”

“Glad you enjoyed it, daddy bear. Meant every word.”

“Lemme get you a wash cloth.”

“For what? I don’t want you to leave me yet.”

“Cum dries and wrecks havock on chest and belly fur, pup. You’re lucky you don’t have to deal with it.”

He still didn’t get my meaning. I turned to the side and bent at the waist. I see the artwork he painted on his chest and my tongue took a swipe. “Why waste good sweat? Cum flavored, too. Yum.”

“But babe...”

“Nuh uh. Not getting around this, stud.” I took another lick. “You already said you tested negative. And I told you so did I.”

My wrists were suddenly locked in place and the next thing I know, I was thrown over his shoulder facing his gorgeous ass. “You had your taste, pup. Now I’m gonna clean you up.”

With those gorgeous mounds of flesh covered in soft pelt in front of me, I couldn’t complain.

We get into the shower and he hands me a pair of shower gloves. I put them on and he squirts body wash on them. “Wash your daddy, pup. Wash the mess you caused.”

I turned him around and reach for his torso from behind. “Yeah, pup. Scrub daddy clean.”

“Not too clean, stud. Pup didn’t get off yet.” I was able to swipe his ass crack with a lathered hand before I got spun around.

“Daddy got carried away.” He bent his 6’ 1” frame to meet my lips. “Go ahead. Have at daddy.”

I swiped my hand on his crack again in case I got midnight munchies and took the gloves off. I proceeded to rinse the soap off his body, worshipping the way his fur hugged his body, obeying each of his contours. Not wanting to turn away from his gorgeous front, I cupped my hands and reached under him. He understood and bent his knee to meet my hand. I rinsed his crack and tickled his rosebud, licking my lips suggestively. He just smiled and winked.

Done with the foamy lather, I went back over his luscious curves with one hand and grabbed my cock with the other.

“Yeah pup. Stroke that uncut dick for daddy.”

I nuzzle my neck on his chest and he took it as a signal to open himself up. He then locked his fingers between his neck and presented his hairy pits. Thank you, stud! You get me.

I purposely saved this part for last. Though the water washed a majority of the scent away, his essence still remained. I angle him away from the shower and lick his valley clean. I repeated that action on the other side and elicited deep moans from him. I buried my nose deep into the crevice and rubbed it from side to side hoping to still catch whiffs of him when I pull back. He moaned in eagerly at each change of direction.

Needing a breath, I pulled back and looked at him. Those eyes! My fuckin’ Kryptonite, I swear! I winked at him before attacking his teat.

His left arm swung down and he grabbed my ass, pulling me closer. “Yeah pup. Suck daddy’s tit. It’s all yours.” Reading the pace and vigor of my stroking, he must’ve known I was close. He took his manicured (middle?) finger and slipped it into my ass.

I spewed my cream into his shower tile. He held me tighter. “Yeah pup. Shoot for daddy.”

Spent, I felt his hand steady me and leaned me into the shower wall. He donned the still-lathered gloves and gently rubbed my skin with tender touches.

“That’s my pup. I gotcha. Let Daddy take care of his pup. Let Daddy return the favor.”

After rinsing and drying me off, he carried me into the bedroom, honeymoon style through the doorway.

“You’re mine now, pup.”

“Been tellin’ ya that since this the pier, stud.”

He smiled. “What can I say? I’m old, babe. It takes a while to sink in.”

Oh those gorgeous eyes!

Yes, I know the proper Italian is correctly conjugated "Ho studiato" so let's just call it "narrative license" shall we?