Winning the Lottery - 29. Chapter 29 First Steps

When Robert arrived home in the early evening there was a lot of noise—mostly laughter—coming from the pool area. Derrick, Gabe and their friends were, in Robert’s opinion, having some deserved old fashioned fun. He’d heard the rumours, of course. Malicious gossip had it that during the last gathering of friends there had been an orgy. Preposterous, thought Robert. In any case, there was sure to be an air of propriety tonight because Sam and Nick’s son, Joe, and his partner, Tyler, were at the gathering. But still, if Robert were honest, the idea of an orgy was...well...titillating. Although he’d only met Sam to date, that individual was certainly drool-worthy, and he’d seen photos of the rest of the handsome guys that made him weak at the knees.

The party broke up about midnight, with everyone heading for their respective homes or accommodation.

The next morning Robert supervised the caterers laying out the breakfast selections. Coffee, juices, pastries, cereal and some warm breakfast burritos. He was just heading back to his apartment when Sam exited the guest cottage with a thin, dark haired man. Ah, Nick, the husband...

Sam saw him and called out. “Robert, come and meet my husband!”

“Nick, this is the famous Robert. Robert, my husband, Nick.”

“A pleasure to meet you, sir,” Robert said as his hand was pumped in a firm, friendly handshake.

“Not, sir. Nick,” the other responded. “I hear marvelous things about you.”

“Thank you si...uh...Nick.”

And so it went as Rob and Jerome exited the guest cottage. Introductions were made, and the guys complimented Robert sincerely on what they’d been told by Derrick and Gabe.

Then Derrick yelled from the door of the main house. “Leave Robert alone you schemers! He’s not going anywhere! And get in here and have breakfast. We’ve been up waiting for hours. (Which Robert knew was an utter falsehood.) But there was definitely an air of ‘bromance’ about their morning hugs and kisses, and Robert wondered if the orgy rumour might have held an element of truth.

As per Gabe’s instruction, Robert left the men to their own devices for the day, coordinating food delivery and clean-up services from the background.

Robert, therefore, was able to make a good start on the project he’d been assigned by Dr. Gabe sorting out education opportunities for Gabe’s cousins, his aunt Zena’s boys. Michael, the eldest was just about to graduate from the University of Manitoba with a science degree and wanted to go to medical school. Brian, the youngest was just finishing twelfth grade, and he wanted to become a pilot. Gabe’s instructions were: “Get them into decent schools. Deacon resources are available to you, of course, but use your discretion. Do the best you can, I don’t expect miracles if the boys aren’t qualified.”

The next morning the entire party left for the airport. The friends flying back to San Diego and Santa Barbara and Derrick and Gabe going on to visit Derrick’s parents on Orcas Island for two days. Dane was staying over at Jordan and Kelly’s. Robert was looking forward to having two whole days to himself. He had that project for Dr. Gabe, but otherwise it was ‘free’ time, the first he’d really had since starting his new job.

His phone chimed. The incoming text read: He checks out. Good to go.

“He” meaning Keno, and “Good to go” meaning it was safe for Robert to pursue a relationship with Keno. Sometimes working for the über rich could be trying, and Robert cringed with embarrassment at having to have his boyfriend—make that potential boyfriend—vetted by the Dea-Con security office in San Francisco. They were very discrete, but still.... Felling guilty, he put that thought aside because the family’s safety was far more important than his own minor lack of privacy.

Plus, he’d felt duty bound to ask Dr. Gabe’s permission to bring an unknown person onto the premises. Of course Dr. Gabe already knew about the blind date situation, and knew that Keno was some distant relative of Kelly—3^rd cousin or thereabouts. So Keno wasn’t per se unknown. In fact, when approached, Dr. Gabe seemed a little too happy about the situation. “Of course! You know you can invite your friends here any time. You’ve got condoms, right?” Keno seemed pleased to be invited (a good sign?) and arrangements had been made for an at-home dinner that evening.

The compound was delightfully quiet that day. Enjoying his leisure at the pool, Robert found himself keenly anticipating Keno’s arrival. The word anticipation reminded him of Carly Simon’s song Anticipation, and that tune was stuck in his head like the proverbial broken record.

Robert had decided to cook chicken cordon bleu indoors instead of barbequing something on the grill outside. He was shamelessly manipulating to keep them inside, in the cozy intimacy of his apartment. How exactly does one plot a seduction? he wondered. Should he be subtle or direct? What if Keno wasn’t keen? He’d been flirtatious at the beach, and responded positively to the invitation, but what if he’d had those sober second thoughts? What if, what if...

Then the song You Can’t Hurry Love by Diana Ross got into his head. You can’t hurry love, no you’ll just have to wait....

These songs inside his head were disturbing Robert’s peace. He decided to go inside and start cooking.

Soon, dinner was prepped. Beer and white wine were in the fridge. The apartment was spotless. The sofa cushions fluffed. The air conditioning was set at a comfortable 75 degrees. Robert finished these preparations quickly—a good hour before Keno’s expected arrival. That left time for a quick run, which, Robert thought, should have the double effect of running off a bit of steam while getting the blood flowing nicely. Trouble was, the blood seemed to be flowing in one direction only; He’d been semi-hard most of the day in anticipation...

Unfortunately the jogging only exacerbated the boner situation—Robert was acutely aware of how good his cock felt rubbing against his jock. He was definitely having a cold shower when he got home. He needed to cool off. Literally and figuratively. He was determined to greet Keno decorously, not like some rutting elephant.

Unfortunately, a truck’s unexpected and suspicious arrival put paid to that plan. Robert became aware of the vehicle slowing to match his pace.

He’d been briefed a hundred times what to do. He turned his phone’s camera toward the car and pressed the talk button which immediately connected him to the security duty desk. “You guys got this?”

“Yeah, we see it. We’ve been watching it on the drone too. No worry, bro, it’s your boyfriend.”

“My boyfr.... You guys are....” Robert was going to say “assholes” but thought better of it. “Incorrigible!” he substituted.

“Over and out, Romeo,” came the reply.

He slowed to a walk, then stopped, turning to face Keno’s truck. He couldn’t help the huge welcoming smile that spread on his face.

Keno noted the warmth of the smile. “Good to see you too, Robert! Got away a little early. Hope you don’t mind. Would rather spend a few extra minutes with you than kill time getting here. I’m glad I did because you look fine—edible in fact—all sweaty in your jogging outfit.” Keno’s face mirrored Robert’s happy expression.

Robert like the ‘edible’ reference. He couldn’t help wondering just what body part Keno might be referring to. His guts were clenching with a mixture of lust and longing that was making his knees week. His cock expanded. There was no hope of hiding the telltale bulge short of doubling over and pretending to be out of breath, which was perhaps a good idea considering that his legs, and every other part of him but his cock, were turning to jelly. But it was too late for that. Keno had already noticed and his eyes were darting between Robert’s face and his groin. Keno’s obvious interest only made the situation worse. It was what you could call a vicious circle.

“Get in the truck,” commanded Keno. Robert complied with alacrity climbing into the cab of the big F150 and noting watch a luxurious vehicle it was. He was just about to compliment Keno on his vehicle when he felt a large, warm hand grasp the back of his neck and pull. Then his vision was filled with Keno’s eyes boring into his and he felt Keno’s lips urgently cover his own.

Robert’s body reacted instantly. Not only did whatever bit of blood remaining in his brain drain to his cock in one great whooshing flood, every nerve in his body fired at the same time. He felt hot: he felt cold. He felt the pull of ten G’s: he felt weightless. He was ecstatically happy: he was bereft. He was supremely confident; he was terrified.

But then, to his absolute horror, he felt the warning tingle of an imminent orgasm. Lord, if Keno could make him come from a kiss the man must be supernatural. Luckily Robert hadn’t quite reached the ‘point of no return’ so was able, with great mental effort, to pull back from the brink of orgasm. What an embarrassment that would be! He pulled away from the kiss. He needed to breathe; to bring himself back under control.

The kiss now broken, Keno put his forehead against Robert’s as both men tried to calm the unexpected, extreme ardor they’d just experienced.

“We need to...slow down,” Robert managed to wheeze.

“Right...” responded Keno, drawing out the word. “But I need to get you naked, Robert. I need you like I’ve never needed anyone in my life before. I’m not bullshitting. That is God’s honest truth!”

“Then you better put this truck in gear and take me home, ‘cuz I’m about to burst into flames myself!”

The second the apartment door closed, sealing them off from the prying eyes of the courtyard’s security cameras, Keno pushed Robert face first against the wall, trapping him there with his muscular body. His hands loosened the drawstring of Robert’s shorts and yanked them, along with the jock, down in one swift motion. Robert felt rough fingers exploring his ass crack. He arched and pushed back demanding closer contact. He was completely incapable of rational thought, aware only of unbridled, primal need. “Fuck me here!”

“If that’s what you want...”

“Oh yes. Hurry.”

So Keno pushed his own shorts to his knees, took a moment to don a condom, and, with the accuracy of a heat seeking missile, probed Robert’s opening with the bulbous head of his thick cock.

Robert felt initial pressure at his anal ring, then sudden burning pain as Keno thrust quickly past his asleep-at-the-post guard muscles. Robert had never felt anything so exquisitely pleasurable. Keno began a series of small withdrawals and thrusts, going a little deeper each time, until his cock was entirely surrounded by Robert’s sweet, hot ass. Even then, he thrust his pelvis forward to achieve those last few precious millimetres. Robert felt gut pain, his anal ring felt stretched beyond endurance, and his prostate was burning from the friction, but every thrust brought pain-pleasure sensations that took him into the stratosphere. He urged Keno on with grunts and profane words of encouragement.

Before long, Keno gave a guttural cry, his entire body went rigid, and he shuddered violently. Robert felt the pulsing of Keno’s cock, and even the repeated spurts of Keno’s man juices as they filled the condom’s reservoir.

Neither man moved. If they had separated their bodies would have dropped to the floor like limp rags.

After a few minutes of ragged breaths, Keno withdrew and stepped back. Without a moment’s hesitation, Robert whirled around and grabbed Keno’s shirt lapels in his fist. He pulled Keno, who was shuffling like a chained prisoner, with his shorts tangled around his ankles, toward the living room. At the back of the sofa he stopped and stepped behind Keno. Then he shoved Keno’s upper body over the top of the couch bringing his ass up and making him open and vulnerable. He reached down and pulled off Keno’s shorts and sneakers pushing his feet apart to make his ass even more accessible. He quickly grabbed a condom from the drawer of an end table (a good butler is always prepared for any eventuality) and rolled it on. He positioned his cock perfectly, then hesitated.... He had a better idea. He dropped to his knees and laved his tongue across Keno’s winking hole. Keno moaned and mouthed a string of invectives that would make a navvy blush. Robert licked and tasted and drooled.

Temporarily satisfied with a good taste of Keno’s musk, be repositioned his cock and drove it violently home. Keno’s body convulsed like he’d been hit with a Taser and he man screamed in reaction to the sudden pain. Robert growled, “Like that, you pussy?” and was utterly amazed at his own ability to switch from masochist to sadist with satisfying ease. It only took a few thrusts for Robert to erupt like Krakatau, then he collapsed over Keno and the two men let their over stimulated bodies recover.

They used eleven condoms that night. They broke one lamp, one vase, two wine glasses (sweeping table settings to the floor) and the glass in Robert’s mama’s picture. Robert wasn’t sure about Keno, but he personally had at least six extremely intense orgasms. They didn’t get around to dinner until two in the morning. Then fell into an exhausted, but short, sleep.

Mid-morning, Keno finally tore himself off Robert and rushed out to work. “I might call you,” he said running across the courtyard to his truck.

“I might answer,” responded Robert in kind.

Robert closed the door, leaned his back against it, and slowly slumped to the floor. He was in rough shape. His cheek was bruised from where he’d hit it falling into the coffee table His lips were swollen and abraded from Keno’s ‘kisses.’ He had a hickey on his neck and bite marks (luckily no broken skin) on his shoulders. His nipples ached and were undoubtedly bruised as well. He knew his ass was raw, but it felt mostly numb and tingly. His cock was tender and his balls throbbed painfully. His entire muscular frame felt as if it had just completed the Hawaii Iron Man. And he’d never felt better in his life. He’d certainly unleashed his inner wild man; he wondered if he’d ever be the same again.

Did he want to see Keno again? Perhaps not. Robert reflected that something like that night only comes along once in a lifetime. It’s like seeing the Eifel Tower lit up in the dark for the first time, or a first ride on the Grand Canal in Venice. It’s breathtaking to experience it the first time, then the second time it’s never same. Perhaps he and Keno should leave things as they stood. It would make an amazing memory, which might be best unsullied by a second, guaranteed futile, attempt. And, if nothing else, it was a cathartic experience. Robert looked up ‘catharsis’ and thought, yes, it was definitely “a discharge of pent up emotions.”

Robert showered carefully then set about cleaning up his apartment. He found two more discarded condoms bringing the total to thirteen.

He tried to get some work done but was ready to throttle Aunt Zena and Uncle Mike who, while wanting the “best” for their sons, seemed to be fearful of their boys stepping foot outside the door. Robert had found an excellent medical school in the Caribbean that was prepared to overlook Michael’s less-than-stellar grades. “Aren’t Caribbean Islands unsafe?” whined Aunt Zena. Uncle Mike was having second thoughts about his younger son taking flying lessons. “Those little planes only have one engine. What would happen if it broke down?” He was angry at the parents’ ingratitude, and he felt sorry for the boys. Certainly such mollycoddling wasn’t doing them any favors. Robert was tired and sore, his patience and equanimity were stretched to the limit.

Just at that moment, Keno phone. He was in no mood to sort out his feelings about Keno. His feelings were mixed up, conflicted. Talk about waffling, he could give Zena and Mike lessons.

“Keno?” he said warily into the phone.

“Can we talk?” responded Keno with no preamble.

“Right now?”

“No. Can I come over after work? I can be there before nine.”

Robert equivocated. “Um...well...okay. But just to...ah...talk...okay?”

“10-4,” said Keno and hung up. What the hell does 10-4 mean? thought Robert. Is that some marijuana jargon? Naw, couldn’t be. Keno’s a cop for goodness sake.

Robert was determined NOT to have sex with Keno when he came over. Nonetheless he counted his remaining stock of condoms. Nine.

Keno arrived as expected, gave Robert a quick buss on the lips, and brushed by him into the living room where he sat on the couch giving the back of it a rueful look.

It was an awkward moment. Robert offered refreshments. Keno accepted a bottle of Corona.

Conversation began in fits and starts. Robert at first thought Keno’s, “Last night was great, but...” meant he was suggesting a break-up, or rather a non-start of the relationship, but that wasn’t the case. It just turned out that Keno was saying he wasn’t normally that aggressive, and he hoped the Robert wasn’t put off.

Robert admitted to the same thing. “I don’t know where that came from,” he said. “It was like I turned into the Incredible Hulk or something.” Then he went on to tell Keno his thoughts on how he’d feel the situation might not have quite the same impact if repeated.

Keno agreed but said, “What about ordinary sex? I mean, I think we have a spark. We’d just have to tone it down...or not...I guess it depends....”

This sex talk made Robert’s raw cock stiffen uncomfortably, and his ass began to tingle causing him to shift and wiggle to get comfortable. Keno observed this and smiled like a wolf in s sheep pasture.

Oh, oh, here we go... thought Robert.

By mutual consent, the sex that night was gentle, but it nonetheless culminated in Saturn rocket launching orgasms. After a few gentle kisses and strokes, each getting the measure of what physical stimulation they could endure, they ended up in a 69 stroking each other’s well lubed cocks. Slow and gentle, barely a touch...edging...edging...edging. The ‘session’ lasted for an hour, and Robert’s eyes took in every pore, pucker, curve, flair, and hair of Keno’s man parts. Robert’s excitement crested so high from Keno’s prolonged ministrations that when he crested the-point-of-no-return his cum muscles contracted with fierce, sudden intensity. He felt the pain-pleasure sensations explode out from his core to reach the top of his head and the tips of his fingers and toes. Keno erupted similarly only seconds later, and both men’s guttural cries were dampened by lips clamped around cock heads. Not a drop of cum escaped.

Robert was sure of only one thing. He and Keno shared a ‘connection’, but what that actually meant for the future was another matter. He liked Keno, but he liked his job more. He knew where his real commitment and loyalty lay. He just hoped Keno wasn’t the nesting kind.

They slept soundly until morning. After showering separately, they sipped their coffees on the patio near the pool. Something needed to be done, a compromise needed to be reached. Robert didn’t quite know how to bring up the subject. Keno took the initiative. “How’s this going to play out?”

“Well, to be honest Keno, I’m not ready to get married. I’d be a fool to give up this job, and I really don’t want to...but at the same time I do want more of what we’ve got.”

“I pretty much feel the same way. I know our schedules aren’t very good for a ‘going steady’ relationship, but maybe we can hook up occasionally.”

“Define ‘occasionally’.”

“Once a week or so. Is that too much? It might take a bit of doing to match our schedules.”

Keno worked a regular monthly shift rotating days and nights, but he was often called in for emergency overtime especially during the busy tourist season, which seemed to be pretty much the full twelve calendar months these days. Robert was entitled to regular time off, but the demands on his time weren’t nine-to-five, five days a week. Up to now he’d been going more like twelve hours a day, seven days a week. There was always something to keep him busy. It wasn’t all scrubbing floors, more like planning and coordinating the schedules of the three busy family members (four if you counted Patsy), (eight if you counted Jordan, Kelly and Alfy).

Robert thought about his choices for a minute, then made a decision. He said, “I’ll work around your schedule as much as I can—it’s really just one more schedule to fit into my planning—and I’ll try to get over to your place once a week. How does that sound?”

“You got yourself a deal, Mr. Gantry. For now it’s just sex, right? We’ll leave the emotional, touchy-feely stuff for later. Sound good?”

“Sounds good,” agreed Robert.

They sat back and sipped their coffees in silence watching an ocean going freighter gliding by on the horizon, its course set for some distant shore.