Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Millennium - 8. Chapter 8
November 9, 1999
I had Kevin in JP’s favorite sexual position. I was lying on my back, and he was lying on top of me, his back to my chest, with my dick buried deep in his ass. I had my knees up and pushed out between his legs, forcing them apart, clearing a path to drive into him. He lay there with his back arched so his head was next to mine. He moved his head sideways so his mouth was next to my ear, letting me hear his sexy panting.
I ran my hands up and down his torso, pinching his nipples hard, since I’d learned he’d liked that. He almost screamed when I did it, a scream of ecstasy. Then I grabbed his arms and pulled them back, pinning them over our heads, and fucked him really hard, deep long strokes. He was helpless. My legs pinned his legs, my arms pinned his arms, all he could do was moan and enjoy my efforts. “I’m gonna cum,” he said urgently into my ear. “Holy shit, I’m gonna cum!”
I could get Robbie to blow his load sometimes without touching his dick, but it wasn’t all the time. Now, I was going to make Kevin do it, make him blast his load without any manual stimulation of his dick. That was erotic as hell. Then he came. He lost it. He just spasmed, and squirmed as shot after shot of his cum blasted across his chest. I pulled out after he was done and ripped the condom off, stroking my cock urgently, desperate to get my own nut. Kevin knelt in front of me, his face right in front of my cock. “I’m gonna blow,” I said.
“Shoot it all over me, all over my face.” He said it in such a sexy, slutty way; damn, he was fun! My first shot flew into his mouth, while the others bathed his mouth and his neck with my semen. I kind of giggled as I came, thinking that it wasn’t all that unlike painting, my other hobby, only this time instead of paint on a canvas, I was spraying my cum all over Kevin. When we were done, I led him into the shower and we washed off quickly, and then headed back to bed to just lie there together.
“Every time you fuck me, it gets better,” he said, helping my ego soar. “I’m worried that in a few days, the excitement will kill me.”
“But what a way to go,” I joked.
“You’ve ruined me,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“I was in my room last night and an old friend came by. We had a few drinks, and he ended up fucking me. It was so boring; I almost just pushed him out of me and jacked off.” I laughed, because it was funny, and to cover up the jealous twinge that had flickered across my mind.
We lay there intertwined in the position we usually ended up in after we fucked. I lay behind him, spooning up against him on my left side, leaving my right arm free to gently stroke his face, his chest, or his abdomen. I felt so dominant, like I had complete control over him, and that was exciting because it was only in my imagination. This guy was no one’s bitch.
As nice as it was, this was the time when I missed Robbie the most. After sex, I felt the most vulnerable, the most exposed. With Robbie, I’d lie on his cushy chest and feel his strong body underneath me. He knew me so well, knew all of my moods, and he’d wrap his strong arm around me, pull me in, and then gently stroke my back to make me feel protected and loved. I started to get antsy, and I knew why. I was struggling with not being with him, with not being in a good place with him.
Kevin and I drifted off to sleep, with him seemingly contented, me deeply conflicted.
November 10, 1999
I staggered into the shower like a zombie, spent and exhausted, hoping that the warm water would wake me up and help prepare me for this day that I knew would be a living hell. I’d spent most of the night having amazing sex with Kevin, which put a smile on my face, but it also reminded me of the penalties involved in dating younger guys. They could fuck all night and then function during the day. It was going to be a lot harder for me to do that.
I’d planned my wardrobe carefully, making sure to pick out my favorite suit, a dark gray hand-tailored number I’d gotten earlier in the year. It was my business suit, the one I used when I had important things to do. Claire had helped me pick it out, and had planned out this ensemble to perfection. I put on my tailored white shirt with perfectly starched collar and French cuffs, pulled on the pants with the sleek Gucci belt, slipped on the Allen Edmonds shoes with their tassels, and double-knotted my yellow and green Hermes tie. I picked up the cufflinks Robbie bought me, the most expensive part of my whole ensemble, even including the Audemars Piguet watch. They were simple things actually: two huge matching emeralds mounted on sturdy gold links. The emeralds themselves were a dark green. I held them up to the mirror and smiled at how well they matched my eyes. Robbie told me that he’d gone to several different jewelers just to find a color that matched them. That was a few years ago, when he used to do little things like that to show how much he loved me.
I pushed those thoughts aside. I had to be at peak performance today, and I had to look great. I couldn’t risk thinking about him and how we used to be, because that might turn me into an emotional wreck or worse yet, into a big pussy that cried and ended up with red eyes in front of the camera. I grabbed cologne and sprayed some on: The cologne that Robbie had specially made for me in Paris, the one that supposedly enhanced my natural odors.
I headed to the kitchen for breakfast and ate carefully, not wanting to mess up my suit. Every bite of cereal brought my wrist to my face, and the fragrance of the cologne to my nose. Every bite put those beautiful cufflinks right into my line of sight. Every bite reminded me of Robbie. It dawned on me that we’d both done nice, thoughtful things for each other in the past, and that both of us had neglected that recently. He needed to beg me to come back to him, but I still needed to show him that I loved him. I needed to make some effort too. I picked up my cell phone and dialed my assistant, an attractive, professional lady named Grace.
“Good morning boss,” she said cheerfully.
“Smart ass,” I said, joking. “There’s nothing good about this morning at all.”
“Ah yes, it’s our day to meet with reporters.”
“Oh, do you have to meet with them too?” I asked, playing with her.
“You don’t want that. I’d have to tell all your sordid little secrets; but unfortunately, since there aren’t any, I’d have to make them up. I have a vivid imagination.”
I laughed. “You’ll have to share that with me sometime. I need you to do a favor for me.”
“Go ahead,” she said nervously.
“I want you to send a dozen red roses to Robbie for me. Have them sent to his office as soon as possible. On the card, just have them write ‘I love you, Brad’, OK?”
“That’s very sweet,” she said. “You have a fight?”
“A series of them.”
“It always helps to show you care. You coming in soon?”
“As soon as I finish eating,” I told her. I hung up the phone just as Stef walked in. He took one look at me and started laughing.
“Did Claire dress you? That is definitely Palo Alto Republican.”
“Fuck you. You’re the one who set me up to talk to these assholes,” I snapped.
He eyed my wrists. “Those cufflinks are spectacular. So beautiful: the quintessential example of understated wealth. He really does love you, you know.”
“I know that. I don’t want to think about it right now,” I said. “I want to be mad at him so I can focus on the press.”
He laughed at me. “I understand you have commandeered my limousine for the day?”
“Public figures need those kinds of amenities,” I teased.
“And you have plans this evening?”
“I do,” I told him. “But I won’t need your limo for them.”
“How mysterious,” he said.
“Yep,” I told him. He frowned at me. He hated secrets as much as I did.
Kevin chose that moment to come rushing into the kitchen. “Fuck, I have a class in twenty minutes!” He grabbed a banana and started shoving it in his mouth.
“That was very sexy, until you bit it off,” Stef teased.
I shook my head and chuckled. “You free tonight?”
“I am,” Stef said.
“Not you,” I said to him, “you.” I looked at Kevin.
“I can be. What time do you want me to come over?”
“I’m picking you up. Be ready for me any time after 4pm,” I said forcefully.
He raised his eyebrows, challenging me, and then smiled. “You look really handsome today.”
“Just today?” I teased.
“Do you not have some wolves to talk to?” Stef asked.
“Right,” I said. I gave Stef a kiss on the cheek, Kevin a passionate kiss on the lips, and headed off to hop into the limo. It was a short drive to Los Altos, where our offices were. We were almost there when I heard my phone ring. I was going to ignore it, but I thought better of it. I looked at the caller ID: it was Robbie.
“Good morning,” I said cheerfully.
“You’re in an awfully good mood this morning,” he said. “You decide you like the press?”
“No, I’m just happy to hear from you,” I said.
“Good. I just called to wish you luck.”
“Thanks,” I said. “You just made my day a whole lot better.”
“I love you Brad.”
“I know. I love you too.”
“Now go kick some ass,” he said, like he was coaching a football team. I laughed and hung up. The limo stopped and I strode confidently into our offices, politely acknowledging all the smart ass “you look nice today” comments.
Our media people were there to do a final prep. “There are only seven reporters here,” the chief PR person told me. “We’ll go give them these briefs, give them some time to go over them, and then you’re up to answer any questions. Just stick to the talking points and you’ll be fine.”
Easy for them to say. I sat and read and re-read the brief, memorizing everything I could, and then assembled my notes. “They’re ready for you,” Grace said with an evil smile.
“But am I ready for them?”
She straightened my tie in a maternal manner. “You’ll do fine.”
I walked into the conference room and stood at the podium, which seemed ridiculous since there were only about 15 people in the room. They asked me to pose for some pictures in front of the podium that said “Carruthers and Schluter”, and then started asking me questions.
“You are divesting so many assets, it looks as though the company is liquidating,” one reporter observed.
“We’re a venture capital firm. Our business is to finance new ventures. That goal is inconsistent with having all of our assets tied up in existing deals.”
“So you’re freeing up cash to invest in new projects? Do you have something big in the pipeline?”
“There are a number of things in the pipeline, but of course you know I can’t talk about them.” So far so good.
“You talk about investing in new projects, yet if my sources are correct, you haven’t closed a deal all year,” one reporter mentioned.
“Your sources are wrong,” I told him, trying to keep the edginess out of my voice.
“How many deals have you closed then?” he asked.
“More than one,” I said, joking, and hit them with my smile. That got a chuckle.
“Several firms have indicated that they recently went with Amphion instead of with your firm because the terms were better.” Typical reporter, a prod, not a question.
“We have lost out on some deals to Amphion. They’re very aggressive right now, and their bids reflect that. We’re studying the markets to see if there has been a fundamental change, to see if we need to reevaluate our bidding structure.” This was the big news, the big scoop.
“Has there been a fundamental change?”
“We don’t know that yet,” I said.
“Yet you are liquidating assets, presumably to give you more money to bid with. It would seem you’ve already decided that there have been fundamental changes.” This reporter was being an asshole, trying to probe where he thought I didn’t want to go. He was wrong. This is exactly where I wanted to go.
“That’s a valid conclusion, but we haven’t made a final decision yet.”
“Is Amphion single-handedly forcing up the market bids?”
“No, Amphion isn’t big enough to drive the market. They’ve made a few, small deals. They’re not really a big player in the industry.” I mentally checked that off on my list of things to say. That should be like waving a red flag in front of a bull to the fine folks at Amphion.
“Yet they’ve outbid you.”
“Yes, they have. A new player needs to be aggressive. They are new. But new also means unproven. The clients who have chosen us over them have indicated that while Amphion claims to have deep pockets, there is no public information to back that up. They have to overcome that negative.” That should piss off Cary Chase and his buddies.
“Don’t you already have a large cash position?”
“We do, but we want to have more available.”
“Because there are big deals in the pipeline?” I grinned inside. Like I was so stupid I’d be tripped up by the same question asked twice.
“There are deals in the pipeline.”
“Can you give us any info, generic info, on what those deals might look like?”
“No, I can’t. I’m sorry,” I told them firmly.
“Reverend Carmichael, of the Calgary Baptist Church, mentioned your firm in his sermon on Sunday.” The Calgary Baptist Church was one of those nutcase churches like the one Robbie’s mom belonged to. The only thing they had going for them is that they were big. However, that’s not what really shocked me. What really shocked me was the minister’s name. But I was getting much better at hiding what I was thinking and feeling. I struggled, but managed to keep my face impassive.
“I wouldn’t know,” I said with disdain.
“He said that you’re losing deals and you’re having financial problems because God is punishing you because your firm is run by homosexuals.” How did this reporter get in here? I saw the media people cringe. We hadn’t prepared for this.
“If God were so mad at us, why would he let us make so much money to begin with?” I asked, being a smart ass. Our media people intervened at that point, ending our press conference. I walked back to the board room, furious that they’d let an idiot like that in to our meeting.
Stef was there, grinning at me. “You were superb. I am so proud of you.”
My bad mood evaporated. “Thanks,” I said. The head of PR came in and said the same thing.
“I’m sorry about that reporter. She’s with the local suburban paper. We wanted to maximize our coverage. She won’t be invited back, and it will probably cost her an entrée into these kinds of meetings at other companies.” The PR guy was visibly upset.
“That’s fine. Let’s try that experiment again next time Stef does one of these.” Stef rolled his eyes at me.
Luke, Stef, and I repaired to Stef’s office to talk about the press conference. “You met with the employees yesterday?” I asked.
“After the market closed,” Luke said. “The reporters knew an awful lot more than was in the briefing. It was like they were at the employee meeting.”
“And they basically were, but we knew that, and it worked for us,” Stef said, trying to hide how sad this betrayal by one of our own made him.
We finalized our plans, and I spent the rest of the morning walking around and talking to the employees. Some needed reassurance that we weren’t going anywhere, some asked good questions about what we were planning. It was the latter employees that made me nervous. Those were the ones who would be most likely to sell us out. On the other hand, they were the employees who were the brightest, and the most valuable.
I was exhausted, both mentally and physically, so in the early afternoon I managed to escape. Rafael came to pick me up, just as I’d asked him.
“Where to?” He was such a nice guy, and a good friend. He did this job, chauffeuring us around now, because he liked it. Stef and JP had made him a wealthy man over the years, both through wages and investments. I thought it was the ultimate expression of loyalty that he was still working for us.
“The Porsche dealer,” I told him.
“You need a new car?”
“Not for me,” I said. He raised an eyebrow, but I just winked at him. I got to the dealer and was accosted pretty quickly. Those emerald cuff links gleamed in the sun, and it was indeed a beautiful but brisk sunny day in the Bay Area.
“Can I help you sir?” asked a nice looking guy, probably around thirty years old.
“I’m looking for one of the new Boxsters. I want a red convertible. You got one?”
“Please come with me and let me check the inventory. You look familiar. Have we met?”
“I’m Brad Schluter,” I told him. “I’ve bought a few cars here, and my uncle has as well.”
“I thought you looked familiar,” he said, grinning now. “I know your uncle very well.”
I laughed, I couldn’t help it. “I’m sorry. When men say that, it usually means they’ve slept with him.”
“I never kiss and tell,” he said, flirting with me and using one of Stef’s favorite expressions. I laughed even harder now. “We don’t have a red one. We could get one, but it will take a few days at least. May I make a suggestion?”
“Sure.”
“We have a yellow one. Personally, I think it’s the best color for the car, but people usually want red.”
“Let’s see it.” He took me out on the lot and showed me the car. He was right. It was really cute. “I think the yellow is better.”
“Thanks,” he said. He knew Stef, and how he worked, and he treated me the same way. That meant that he didn’t jerk me around on the price, they got it ready fast, and while they did, I fucked him. Stef had unique ways of buying cars. I sat down with the finance guy, wondering if I’d have to fuck him too.
“What name would you like on the registration?” I stared at him blankly, but couldn’t stop myself from laughing.
“Will you excuse me for a minute?” I asked. I went outside and tried to call Kevin, but he didn’t answer. I thought for a minute, and dialed Wade instead. He answered, of course.
“Hey Wade, do you know Kevin’s last name?”
“He didn’t tell you?” He was nervous about disclosing things like that. He didn’t like to divulge personal information. He was like JP’s clone.
“I never asked him. I think he would though. It’s important, and I promise I won’t use it for evil.”
“It’s Carmichael,” he said. I just stared at the phone, stunned. “Brad, are you there?”
“Yeah, I was just distracted. I’m sorry. Thanks Wade. That’s what I needed.”
“No problem. Remember, no using it for evil,” he said, teasing me.
I returned to the finance department. “Title it under ‘Kevin Carmichael’,” I told him, and gave him Kevin’s address on campus. That part was pretty quick, and I figured the rest would fall into place, but I forgot he’d need proof of insurance. I figured he’d have coverage on his Buick, but it was probably in his mother’s name. I called my own insurance agent and had coverage set up for Kevin, at least temporarily until the agent could get all the info he needed from Kevin. I told him to send me the bill for the insurance, and I made sure I paid for the sales tax and licensing fee. I got Kevin personalized plates that read: SIRGEEO. They wouldn’t be in for a while though.
I drove off the lot in Kevin’s new car, laughing my ass off. I’d bought a new car for a guy I just met last week. In fact, I hadn’t even known his last name. Still, he’d helped me out when I needed help the most; he’d given me physical love when I was desperate for it. And he was way too smoking hot to drive an old four door sedan. The Boxster was a blast. I had fun really winding the engine out, not that I could do much of that. It was 4:00pm, and there was traffic.
It was an extravagant gift, but I could afford it. I was richer than I’d ever need to be. With my share of the company, the trust Tonto had left me, the income from the trusts Stef set up for me, and my own personal investments, I was worth a lot of money. I worried about what Robbie would think if he found out. I worried that he’d try to spend money on Carson to match what I spent. He’d go bankrupt trying. I was a lot richer than he was.
Ironically enough, my phone rang, and it was Robbie. “Hey, thanks for the roses.”
“You’re welcome,” I said, smiling. “You just get them?” I wondered if Grace was losing her efficiency.
“No, they came right after we talked this morning. I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner; I’ve been in meetings all day. They’ve kept me smiling all day long, though.”
“I’m glad,” I told him.
“I thought I was supposed to be fighting for you. Why are you sending me flowers?” he asked, teasing me.
“I was getting ready this morning and I put on my cufflinks, the ones you got me. They are so classy. And I put on the cologne you had made for me. It reminded me of the special things we used to do for each other. That’s a two way street.”
“I understand,” he said, only his voice cracked. Aw. He was so cute. “When are you coming home?”
“Tomorrow.”
“I’ll see you then.” I smiled at the phone. I hoped we got through this thing, that we could work thing out and be happy together.
I pulled up to the dorms and got not a few odd looks. First off, they were gawking at the car. Then when I got out in full business attire, they gawked at me. I ignored them by smiling politely and wandered through the maze of hallways until I found Kevin’s room. I heard voices coming through the door, loud voices. I wondered if he was with someone, and suddenly wished I would have called first. Still, there were people in the halls looking at me, so I went ahead and knocked.
“Come in,” he said. I walked into his room, a typical dorm room, only it was decorated really tastefully. It was a single; since he was a junior, he’d earned that status. There wasn’t anyone else there, but the TV was on. It was the Jerry Springer show. No wonder I’d heard loud voices. “Hey Brad! Great to see you!” he said.
“Educational programming?” I joked.
“Yeah, it’s like Melrose Place for white trash.” He got up and locked the door, then kissed me passionately.
“We have to go before I get a ticket,” I said, as I felt his hand grab my hardening dick.
“No. I want you right here, right now,” he said. “Leave your clothes on.” He stripped naked, but made me wear my suit. I dropped my pants and boxers, put on a condom, and fucked him fast and furious, bringing us both off quickly.
“You happy now?” I asked, joking.
“Very,” he said. “You look so good in your suit; I’ve been fantasizing all day long about you wearing it while you fuck me. I even had to beat off twice just so I could do my homework.”
“You beating off: What a waste.” He laughed. I led him down the stairs and we walked up to the Porsche. There were a few guys looking at it.
“Nice car,” one of them said.
“Just bought it,” I told them. I handed Kevin the keys. “Let’s see how well you handle it.” He got a huge grin on his face, jumped in, and fired it up. We had to wind our way out of campus, but when we got to the hills in Palo Alto, he really started to push it.
“You’re a pretty good driver,” I said. “You certainly know how to handle a stick.”
“Yeah, but you already knew that. Thanks for trusting me with your new car.”
“I’m not,” I said.
“Not what?”
“I’m not trusting you with my new car. It’s yours.” He slammed on the brakes, jerking us both forward, and pulled over to the side of the road.
“What?” He stared at me, stunned.
“I bought it for you,” I told him.
“Why?” Then he got flustered. “I’m sorry. It’s the nicest present I’ve ever gotten. I really appreciate it. I really do. But you don’t have to do this.”
“I did it because I wanted to.”
“I didn’t sleep with you for your money. I slept with you because I like you, because you’re handsome.” He got a mischievous look on his face. “And because you have a big dick.” We laughed together.
“That’s why. When you’re thirty seven and your partner tells you he wants to go off and fuck other men, it’s pretty devastating. To have a twenty-year-old man, who is so handsome he could be on the cover of a magazine, who is so hot he could have his pick of guys, gay or straight, to fuck, to have that guy pick me over anyone else to be with, that’s an amazing compliment.”
“You sell yourself short. You have so much to offer. You could look like Quasimodo and still be attractive. You have an inner strength, it’s charismatic. Robbie doesn’t have that. That’s why he’s freaking out because he sees some pink on his scalp. You do, that’s why you won’t have to deal with that shit.”
I felt a tear run down my cheek. “Thanks. That was a really nice thing to say.”
“I’m glad you told me about him. It would have been really easy to fall in love with you, otherwise,” he said. Then he put the car in gear and drove us to Escorial. We had sex, only it wasn’t a fuck. It was more than that. I thought about what Stefan had said, about me finding someone to return my love, and it scared me.
- 24
- 4
- 1
- 3
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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