The Land Whore - 6. Chapter 6

March 16, 1973

“So you'll be gone for the next few days,” Jason said as he reviewed my schedule with me, “but I went ahead and scheduled some meetings on Monday. I also scheduled that Roger Burton guy in. Luke and Cecile weren't happy about the short notice,” he said, smiling at me. I just shrugged. I'm the boss, I treat them well, pay them well, they can humor me.

“Excellent Jason. I want you to be in that meeting as well.”

“Me?” he asked, almost in a panic.

“Yes, you. I think that in order to accomplish what I want, I'm going to have to do a lot of the legwork on this one myself, which means that much will fall on you.”

Jason looked relieved. I'd learned early on that he didn't like independent projects. He just didn't have the confidence in his abilities to take the ball and run with it. Yet. I got back on topic. “Do not forget that I will need those investment contracts for my trip to LA. I will be coming back with some serious cash.” He smiled and left, passing an anxious Luke.

Luke wanted to go over some of his candidates for funding. “The matrix is working really well Stefan, but there's one deal that I just don't like, even though the numbers and the matrix say it's fine.”

“So you are telling me that your fundamental analysis says to go for it, but your gut says not to? What is it that makes you nervous?”

He looked thoughtful. “The guy that runs the show kind of creeps me out. Honestly, I just don't trust him.”

“Do you not trust him because of his age, or his race, or something like that?” I asked. I wanted to say sexual orientation, but I knew Luke wouldn't let that bother him.

He smiled. “No, of course not. It's nothing like that at all.”

“That's easy then. Pass on the deal. You have to be willing to trust your instincts even in the face of positive fundamentals. Anyone can crunch numbers; it takes a shrewd businessman to look beyond them and see the real value, or lack thereof. There will be other deals.”

“Thanks Stefan. I appreciate your confidence. So what's with the meeting this afternoon?” I smiled. Luke was one of those people who had to know about everything that was going on.

“I went out and looked at the Burton project and the vineyards are beautiful. I want to save them.”

“The developers won't be happy about that,” he said. “I looked at the numbers, and it's worth a lot less without that acreage included.” I'd forgotten that Luke had done the preliminary work on this deal.

“And as I just said, sometimes you have to look beyond the numbers and see the whole picture. Houses built around a beautiful vineyard may command a higher price, no?”

He shrugged. “That wasn't factored in. I see what you mean. You sure you're not just doing this because the real beauty is Roger Burton, the hunky farm boy?” he teased.

“And you noticed him? Perhaps you are not as heterosexual as you purport to be,” I said, shooting it right back at him. He laughed and left me alone.

At 1:00pm exactly, Jason interrupted my internal reverie to tell me everyone was assembled in the conference room. “Excellent,” I said. I walked into the room and greeted a nervous and uncomfortable Roger. He did look out of place in jeans and a nice shirt, compared to the rest of the group in business garb.

“Follow me everyone, we are going on a field trip.” I led them outside to the limo where Rafael was waiting, just as I had asked. Once everyone was in the limo, I continued. “I want you all to see this property. I want you to understand my vision, and I do not think you can do that without being there.”

The trip took about 30 minutes, and on the way down Roger educated us on the winemaking business. It was funny. They'd all dismissed him as a dumb farmer, but now that he was talking about what he knew, he'd impressed the shit out of them. Me too.

“So what do we need to turn this into a first class operation?” I asked.

He looked thoughtful. “We need to invest in the winery itself, and we need another source of grapes. We need a different kind of grape. We usually get them from a winery in Napa Valley, but that's a dodgy business because then we don't have control of the bulk of our supply.” That raised eyebrows in the car. That meant we'd have to buy another vineyard, more money. They couldn't see the payoff.

We got to the property and the Cadillac lurched over the rough roads. Roger gave me a knowing smile. There was so much dust it was hard to see out of the windows, but Rafael finally stopped the car and we all got out. The sight was breathtaking. Beautiful, well kept grape vines sprawling across the hills and down into the flat lands in a serpentine manner.

“This is beautiful Stefan,” said Cecile. “I see what you mean. If we used these vineyards as a kind of common ground, it would be like having a lake or river in your back yard, and make those houses much more valuable.” She walked around, making some notes. “I'm going to see if we can save the vineyards and still keep the project on track.”

“Roger, if you can spend some time with me, we'll draw up a business plan and see what it would take to make this a viable vineyard,” said Luke, picking up on Cecile's optimism.

We wandered around the property some more, allowing everyone to take notes, and start planning. “Thank you all for opening your minds to look at this differently,” I said. “Cecile, they are going to try and toss Roger out of his house. Can you make sure that does not happen?”

“You bet,” she said, and flashed a smile at Roger. He blushed.

“Roger, I'm flying down to LA tomorrow. I want you and Luke to work up a plan for the winery. Once we know how much money we will need for the project, you will have the option to invest in it, OK?” He looked at me and smiled. And nodded.

“Well Stefan, you did your good deed for the day, but apparently it isn't enough” Jason said when we got back to the office. “Roger wants to see you alone for a few minutes.”

“Send him in,” I said cordially.

Roger came in and shut the door. Did he just click the lock? He came up to me and pulled me into his arms roughly and kissed me. It wasn't gentle, it wasn't nice, it was firm and commanding and primal. “I want you,” he said.

He didn't wait for me to respond, he just started taking off my clothes. “You are not very subtle,” I said, teasing.

“Nope.” He stripped off all of my clothes then took his off. There was his beautiful cock, hard as a rock. He moved in to kiss me strongly again, the feel of his stubble on my face and his cock jamming against me was driving me nuts. Then he turned me around and lubed his cock, and pushed himself into me.

“I thought about you all night. You fucking corrupted me. All I can think of is being inside you like this. It feels so good.” Then he lost himself in me. He went wild. He slammed into me, pushed me into different positions, all the time with this crazed look that said he was in charge and I was there solely to satisfy his desires. I let him take complete charge and moved my body to match his every move, every desire. I figured that he'd blow fast, but not this time. He made it last. He was really enjoying it. Finally, he came, and it was the cutest thing. He reached down on my desk, grabbed some pencils and bit down on them to stop himself from screaming. Even then his moans were loud, and so were mine as I came with him.

I got out some paper towels and cleaned up the load I'd blasted on my desk, and then we both got dressed. He looked at me sheepishly, then that look changed to guilt. “I'm sorry; I didn't mean to be so rough. I shouldn't have treated you like that.” He walked up to me and kissed me gently and lovingly on the mouth. Aww. This guy was so cute.

“I liked it, Roger, a lot. You are a strong, virile man, you knew what you wanted, me, and you went for it. You are an amazing lover. Amazing.” I said, only partly exaggerating to boost his ego. Now he grinned and blushed.

“You think we might get together and do something when you get back in town?” he asked.

“You mean like a date?” I teased.

“That's exactly what I mean,” he said.

“I'd like that.”

March 17, 1973

LAX was becoming my home away from home. Josh was waiting to pick me up. “Hey Josh,” I said, winking at him.

“Hey Stef,” he said. I pulled out some papers I'd brought, making sure they were complete (like they wouldn't be with Jason assembling them) but more importantly, making sure I knew what they said. It seemed as if in no time, we were rolling up to Peter's house.

Josh grabbed my bag and took it into Peter's room. He seemed a little sad. “What's the matter? You look pretty down.”

“It's nothing,” he said.

“If it was nothing and you did not want to talk about it, you should not mope around and attract attention to your misery,” I said plainly.

“I feel like a hole.”

“A hole? What's that supposed to mean?” I was confused.

“A hole for Peter to stick his dick in,” he said glumly. “I really try to get into it with him but he won't even try. So basically I just get on my knees and he fucks me.”

“He likes you Josh, but he does not let himself go with people very often. It's the way he is. You have to take what you can get and try to be happy, or not be with him. Unless you can convince him to fall in love with you.”

He grinned at me. “I like you too much to stomp on your turf.”

“Smart boy,” I said. “Want to show me how much you do like me?”

“I have direct orders to keep my hands off of you. Peter's been looking forward to you getting here and he wants you fully charged,” he said with a snicker.

I moved toward him and lowered his zipper, pulling out his plump cock. “I did not hear anything in that statement that said I have to keep my hands off of you,” I said as I gently stroked him. “Or my mouth.” I dropped to my knees and gave him the best blow job I could in a very short period of time. Peter was supposed to be back any minute.

After he recovered himself and buttoned up his jeans, I started ripping my shirt off and then pulling at his. “You trying to get me fired?” he asked nervously.

“Trust me, OK?”

Five minutes later Peter came walking in and saw me lying on the bed face down with Josh on top of me, pumping into my ass. The covers of the bed were pulled up to hide anything from the waist down.

“Just couldn't wait for me huh?” he said, very irritated.

Josh and I jumped out of the bed, fully clothed from the waist down. “A little practical joke to make you smile,” I said as I walked up and kissed him. Josh politely slunk out of the room.

“Funny, very funny,” he said. Then his lips were on my lips, then on my chin, my cheek, my neck. “I missed you so much Stef. I think about you all the time. I love you baby, I really do.”

“I love you too Peter.” I took off the rest of my clothes while he started to undo his shirt. My hard cock bounced up as soon as it was loose from my boxers.

“Josh got you all fired up,” he said.

“No, being in the same room with you got me all fired up,” and then we connected.

We lay there in a post orgasmic bliss for about an hour, talking about our week. I told him all about the winery, and Roger, which made him laugh. He knew he had nothing to worry about. As if to prove that, we made love again, and this time after I came it was all I could do to just lie there panting.

He chuckled. “You too tired to go to a party?”

“A party? What kind of party?” I'd been to a few gatherings with him, and I'd picked up some new investors as a result, but never to a ‘party.’

“A St. Patrick's Day party. My agent is throwing a big bash for all of her clients. Should be a lot of celebrities there. Plus, she wants to meet you.” There was more to this than he was letting on.

“I feel like you're taking me home to meet your parents,” I said jokingly.

“That's not a bad comparison. My agent is kind of like my mom. So put on your best manners. Plus her partner, Henry Wilson, will be there. He's an old fart, but he'll try to fuck you anyway,” he teased.

It seems that the conversation was the prelude to getting ready; I was kind of irritated that he didn't prep me for this, but I was determined not to let the little shit get to me. An hour later we were ready for the big time. Luck must be with me tonight, since I'd actually had some green to wear. Josh drove us up to the agent's house. Jackie Diamond was her name, I discovered, and she was all-powerful in Hollywood. Stay in her good graces and you were golden; piss her off and you're toast. Her house reflected that power. It was kind of like a miniature version of Escorial, with classic Spanish architecture. The portico itself was beautiful, a combination of covered porch and courtyard wrapped in to match the overall building.

“So you must be Stefan.” a voice said. “It's so nice to meet you.” A very brash woman, gaudy would be an understatement, approached speaking with a thick East Coast, probably New York, accent.

“The pleasure is all mine,” I said, pouring on the charm and manners that I'd learned in Claremont. “You look fabulous!” I said, marveling over her hideous outfit. We chatted for about ten minutes about our clothes, then we moved off and into the crowd.

I was handing out cards like a crazy man. Apparently word of my projects had preceded me. I was so busy and having such a great time I didn't notice Peter deserting me; I did notice him when he got back. He had a very sad, depressed expression on his face.

“What's wrong?” I asked, pulling him away from the crowd.

“Jackie likes you, but thinks we're too tight. She wants me to end our relationship.”

I just stared at him. Having someone else in charge of my love life was inconceivable to me. “What did you tell her?” I demanded.

He hesitated, and I knew that he didn't do what I would have done: told her to go to hell. “I told her that I was in love with you, and that I didn't want to lose you.”

That was pretty weak. I played it cool, summoning my inner JP to help me out. “So what are you going to do?” I asked.

“I don't know,” he said morosely. “If she drops me, I'm done in this town. I guess I can retire, but I don't want to do that. I don't want to lose my career, and I don't want to lose you.” He was almost crying.

I needed to stall for time and I needed to be calm. “I need to digest this, OK? You are telling me that this woman is in control of our relationship, and that pisses me off. At the same time, I know how important your career is to you and to me too. So I'm going to go hit the bathroom, grab a drink, maybe get high if I can get a hold of one of those doobies, and then I will come find you, OK?”

“Yeah. Sure. I'm really sorry Stef. I don't want to lose you,” he said.

“I know,” I said, and wandered off to find the bathroom. The one on the lower level was occupied, but one of the waiters told me there was another one on the second floor. I wandered the halls until I finally found it. The door was closed, but that didn't mean it was occupied. I pushed it open and there was John Bartlett, the newest hunk on the screen, plowing into Rock Hudson's ass. Hudson was much older now, but still pretty hot. Rumor had it that he followed in the footsteps of his agent, Henry Wilson, and insisted that his co-stars fuck him. They looked paranoid, scared shitless, until I walked in and closed the door behind me, locking it as they should have.

They knew now that I was cool, or at least they did when they stared at my tenting pants. I walked up and dropped my pants, slapping my dick across Rock's face until I finally let him swallow it. He was a good cocksucker. I leaned forward and John's lips met mine. It wasn't long before he blew his load up Hudson's ass. He pulled out and I took his place, driving into Rock hard. He wanted to cum, he needed to cum, and I worked him like the pro that I could be. I didn't let myself blow until after he had started, but I still finished before he did.

“Thanks for letting me join you guys,” I said, winking at them.

“Anytime,” said Bartlett. “I'm John Bartlett,” he said, extending his hand.

“Rock Hudson,” said the guy on all fours with the cum pouring out of his ass.

“I know who you guys are. I've seen you both on the screen, and in my jack-off fantasies.” Bartlett chuckled at that. “I'm Stefan Schluter. I'm involved in real estate development and investing.”

“I've heard of you,” Bartlett said. “You got a card?” I gave him my card, and I slipped one to Rock as well. “We'll have to hook up some time and talk about business,” he said with a leer.

“It would be my pleasure,” I said. And with that the two of them snuck out of the bathroom, leaving me alone.

I sat there pondering the last hour of my life. I'd just been dumped by one movie star, and then fucked around with two others. No wonder Hollywood drove people insane. I'd lost a lot of respect for Peter, no matter what happened. I guess I didn't realize how easily influenced he was. He would be strong with me until he was with Jackie, I knew it, and then he'd be strong with her until he was with me. We could play him like a ping pong ball until one side or the other lost, or Peter was destroyed, whichever came first. I understood now why he was so reluctant to let his guard down with people. Once he fell for someone, that was it, he was theirs.

That must be the problem with this Jackie lady. She'd seen the way he looked at me, knew we were in love, and saw me as a threat. I put my emotions on hold while I tried to think like Machiavelli. The first thing was, did I want to stay with Peter? The answer was yes. He was a lot less glamorous in my eyes now that I'd seen this side of him that let himself be enslaved, but I still loved him. Nobody's perfect. Plus I was really raising a lot of money here, and that was fueling my huge list of projects at home. If that dried up, I'd be in a pretty big bind, at least for a while. And the vineyard would definitely be out of the question. I needed Jackie on my side. I needed her to see me as an ally, not a threat.

I left the bathroom and found a very irritated young lady glaring at me. Guess I'd taken just a bit too long in there. I wandered around the house, looking for Jackie, trying to avoid any conversations until I found her. At last I spotted her heading out of the kitchen.

“Jackie,” I said informally. “Can I have a world with you in private?”

She eyed me suspiciously, and then looked around to see if people noticed us talking. They did. “You need an agent?” she joked. “Come on sweetie, follow me.” And she led me into her study.

She shut the door and turned on me with a viciousness that surprised but did not scare me. “I think I made myself perfectly clear to Peter. You are gone. History. Out of his life. It's you or his career.”

I eyed her calmly, which irritated her. She was used to emotional hot heads. JP would eat her for lunch. I'd just have to keep my less controllable feelings restrained. “Then here is the scenario. You pull him toward you, I pull him back, and ultimately one of us will win. Maybe it will be you, quickly. Or me. But Peter will end up destroyed and worthless if it lasts any length of time. I understand that. What I do not understand is why I threaten you so badly?”

“Threaten? You threaten me? Have you lost your mind kid? I'm not afraid of you.” Her nose was flared she was so angry.

“You view me as a threat to your hold over Peter. Beyond that, I am nothing.” I said, stating the obvious. “Why must I be your enemy? Why cannot we work together?” That definitely caught her attention.

“You're not from here are you? Don't suppose I could just get you deported huh?” She chuckled. That was a joke.

“I am from France originally. My English is good, but I still have problems with some of those contractions, so that, along with my accent, dooms me as an outsider,” I said playfully.

“So what do you want?” she asked.

“I want to see Peter every other weekend, and have some vacation time with him for a week, twice a year. And I want to be able to continue to raise money for my real estate investments here in Hollywood, with your blessing.” I was selling my soul, well, Peter’s soul. I comforted myself with the thought that he'd already sold it anyway.

The demon of self-interest was something this lady understood. She studied me carefully. “Keep it low-key. No faggy shit in public, got it?” I nodded, and we shook hands. I gave her one of my cards so she could get in touch with me.

I tracked down Peter. He was next to the bar and he was blasted. He saw me and was about to get all maudlin and emotional. “Peter, shhhh. Just be quiet, OK?” I whispered in his ear. “Everything is alright. Let's go home and talk about it, but do not make a scene.” He stared at me, blurry eyed, his vision going in and out of focus, but I'd gotten through and I dragged him through the house and out the front door with Jackie watching approvingly. She needed someone to keep him under control on the personal side. She needed me as much as I needed her.

Josh and I got Peter into bed and he passed out. He was dead to the world. I took a shower and was feeling pretty horny, even though I'd had sex three times in the last 12 hours. I checked on Peter, and when he couldn't be moved, I went over to Josh's room and knocked on the door. I entered without waiting for his permission and found him on his bed, stroking his nice, hard dick.

“So you end up on the receiving end of things most of the time, eh?” I said as I climbed up and planted my lips on his. “How about if we turn the tables?” And I sat on his cock and let him fuck me until he was spent. I snuggled up to him and enjoyed his warmth. This kid was such a stud.

“So Josh, still feel like a hole?” I teased.

“Nope. I feel awesome.”

March 18, 1973

Peter woke up with a horrible hangover. I was lying on my side facing away from him, mostly just to give him room. He got up and staggered to the bathroom. I heard the unmistakable sound of vomiting and was glad it was him and not me. He came staggering back out of the bathroom and I stopped him. “Brush your teeth,” I commanded, and he turned around and did what I told him to do. Did this guy really have his own free will?

He returned carefully to the bed and took the lit joint I handed him. “Wake and bake,” I said. “The best cure for a hangover.” I'm pretty sure that was true, but even if it wasn't, I wanted to get high anyway.

“I'm sorry about last night. The pressure just got to me and I decided to drown my sorrows. I made a decision though,” he said. “I decided that I want to be with you, even if it means my career.” I didn't laugh in his face, which took enormous effort. This was the first swing of the pendulum. He'd proclaim his undying love for me, and then he'd see Jackie and promise her I was gone as well.

“That will not be necessary,” I said a little too coldly. I forced my voice to be more cheery. “I worked things out with Jackie.”

“You what?!” I couldn't tell if he was pissed, relieved, or irritated. Probably some of all three.

“I told her that I was in love with you, and that included supporting your career. I asked her how we could be together and make her happy. She said we do not see each other more than every other week, and that we get two one-week vacations, just the two of us, per year. And I have to get my own place down here to keep up appearances.” That last part wasn't true, but I threw it in to give myself flexibility.

He stared at me, speechless. “And you get to keep raising money down here?” That came out as an accusation.

“That's right. My career is important too, is it not?” Now I was not being nice, I was backing him up, and it worked.

“I'm sorry. You're right. So you jumped in and worked this all out so we could stay together?” he asked. That told me where I would have landed if we'd fought the battle, but I ignored it.

I kissed him gently, then more passionately. This time I fucked him, perhaps to show a new dominance, to him or myself, I didn't know. The connection was still there, only not as strong, and not as long. And that was sad.

I flew home in the late afternoon. Josh took me to the airport as usual, but I made him take Peter's Aston Martin so we could talk. “What do you want to do with your life Josh?” I asked.

“I dunno. What you do seems kind of cool. Think there's something I could do, you know, working with money?”

“What's your background? Skills?” I shot those at him in staccato format.

“I'm organized, good attention to detail, friendly, a good piece of ass,” he said, and made me laugh.

“You ever thought about being a broker?” I asked.

“You mean like a stockbroker?”

“Yeah, only instead of stocks you'd be selling real estate deals. And the selling would be minimal in the beginning; you'd just have to come in and close the deals and get the paperwork hammered down, at least at first. That and you may have to be a great piece of ass.” He giggled.

“When do I start?”

“I like a man with ambition and drive.” I mentally reviewed my schedule. “I will be back down here next Saturday with Brad. It's his Spring Break. Can you work with Peter and get someone to spend a few days with him? I will need someone to give us a studio tour, and I want to make sure he gets to see Disneyland.”

“I got it handled boss,” he said cheerfully. This poor guy had had no direction until 15 minutes ago. He was nothing more than a fancy fuck rag. No wonder he was happy.

“Great. And do not say anything to Peter about working for me, OK? I have to talk to him about it first. Then we will work out a timeline next week.” He nodded.

I got to Escorial just in time for dinner. The kids were all in great moods. Ace had a tennis camp over spring break. He was quite the little tennis stud. That left Brad pretty much on his own, so he was thrilled when I told him we'd be in LA for the week. I promised an irritated Claire and Billy I'd take them next year. Still, there was a lot of tension in the room. After the kids got up and left, it became palpable and very uncomfortable. I looked at JP and he was really, really irritated. He never looked irritated unless his walls were down, and that only happened when it was something really big.

I picked up my dinner knife. “I think I could almost cut the air in here with this knife there is so much tension. Would someone like to tell me what is going on?”

JP glared at Sam and then looked at me calmly. “Sam is going to be a father.” And with that he got up and left the room. I turned to Sam and he got up and chased after JP.

I looked questioningly at Isidore. “Apparently Sam had a brief fling with one of the girls on campus. A student. And now she is pregnant and claims he is the father.”

“Let me guess, the drunken sorority girl that barged into your room?”

Isidore nodded grimly. “I see you remember her. So JP has been beside himself with rage. I have never seen him quite like this, not even with Jeff.” She blanched after mentioning him. His name no longer raised painful memories, but her concern for me was touching.

“That is because he is used to relying on Sam. Sam is his rock, the one who makes it possible for him to be strong. He is like a house that just lost its foundation.” She thought about that and nodded. “I think I will go see him.”

I walked up to their room and heard loud yelling and screaming. Without knocking I opened the door and interrupted their exchange. Normally I would not bother a fighting couple, but knowing these two, they'd just say things they'd regret anyway. “I was thinking that perhaps we could all go out into the great hall. There is more room and there are more things to throw, and since we can all hear you anyway, we might as well.” They both glared at me and then Sam stormed out of the room. A few minutes later we heard his car tear down the driveway. I closed the door and went over to JP. Normally so strong, normally such a rock, the one who solved our problems and fixed our mistakes. Who would take care of him? I would.