The Land Whore - 21. Chapter 21

July 4, 1973

This had been a miserable trip. I did not want to be at Tonto's house, but I felt that if I weren’t she'd be subjected to the diatribes from her two other grandchildren. I was growing to dislike them more and more every day. I had tried to put myself in their shoes to understand where they were coming from, and I think I'd achieved that. The problem was what I'd found: they were completely and totally selfish. I guess they were still young, very young, and there was much room for them to change, but right now I had no desire to be around them.

I’d driven them down to the festival, saying nothing on the way, and as soon as we'd gotten here I'd left them to their own devices. They seemed nervous. They'd relied on Schluter influence and power to shield them from the masses. Well, Tonto wasn't here and I wasn't raising a finger for them, so they looked pretty nervous. Good.

I wandered around the festival feeling sorry for myself. I knew what the problem was. The problem was Roger. I was acting like this was any other guy I'd had difficulties with; in those cases I'd usually just move on. But I didn't want to move on. I was used to him. I'd grown attached to him. I still loved him.

I was about to dodge around some woman with a really cute little girl when I recognized her. It was Vivienne, Jason's wife.

“Vivienne!” I said enthusiastically. “How are you doing? You look great? And is this Heather?” The little girl just smiled and buried her head in her mother's shoulder.

“Stefan, it's good to see you. We're doing alright, but things have been kind of tough since Jason left.”

“You mean you miss him?”

She laughed. “Well, I never thought I'd admit it, but I do. Actually, I haven't heard from him since he left.”

I just stared at her. “He has not called or written?”

“No. Why, do you know where he is?”

I gulped. “Yes, he's working for me in Los Angeles.”

“You'd think that if he's working he'd send some money home. It's been tough raising Heather all by myself. My parents help out, but they aren't happy about it.”

“I cannot believe Jason has not called, written, or at least sent money.” I was stunned, and pissed. How could he leave his daughter in such a lurch? I walked over to one of the tables and sat down.

“Here's Jason's address and phone number,” I said, handing her a piece of paper with that info on it. “And here's a check to tide you over until Jason sends you some money.”

“$2000! Stefan, that's, well, thank you so much. Thank you.” And she hugged me.

“Do not thank me. I will get it back from Jason.” She giggled at that.

“Here,” she handed me a picture, “take this to Jason. It's Heather's latest picture. And here's my address and phone number as well. Thanks again Stefan. You are a saint.”

Seems not too long ago I was an angel. Now I'm only a saint. Another good deed and I get demoted. I giggled to myself. Vivienne and Heather wandered off into the crowd, leaving me to continue on.

I found Tonto with the kids and Isidore, busy socializing as usual. Brad was off to the side looking really unhappy.

“What's the matter?” I asked.

“I'm going to be all alone for the next three weeks.”

“What do you mean, alone?”

He held back tears. “Ace is staying here with his grandparents, and so are Claire and Billy.”

“I'm sure you could stay here too,” I said. A spark lit and then faded.

“They're not my grandparents.”

“Well, that should not matter, but I've got a different idea. I'm going to go down to LA for a few weeks. Want to come with me?”

His face lit up like the fireworks we'd see tonight. “You mean it? I can go with you?”

“Absolutely. As soon as we get home and get organized, we will head down.”

He hugged me and danced off to tell Isidore. That should raise some hell. I took the opportunity to escape.

I was worried that I wouldn't know anyone here but I kept running into people I did know. The next person I discovered was much more pleasant. I saw Sam standing all by himself, looking lost.

“Hey stud,” I said playfully, “What's a hot guy like you doing in a place like this?”

“Looking for my boyfriend. Last time I saw him he was with Frank Hayes. I can’t help it. That guy makes me jealous.”

“You have nothing to worry about. Besides, this way you can keep me company.” He shrugged and started walking with me. I just chattered away, telling him all about Vivienne and Heather. He was pissed at Jason's irresponsibility too. It was interesting though, neither one of us was really willing to get outraged until we got JP's take on the situation.

“Sam, I'm actually glad you and I have a chance to talk. I want to ask you about something.”

“Uh oh. What did you do now?” I giggled because he said it with a smile.

“I got really pissed at Roger.” Sam already knew all about the thing with Bobby, so I filled him in on how I'd fucked Roger and he'd freaked, and then the next thing I knew he was pulling a train in the gay fuck palace. I told him how I'd dodged him and taunted him, proud of my witty rejoinders and my ability to throw pain right back at Roger. Even as I said it I realized how stupid I sounded.

“You know Stef, a while back you cornered me and smacked some sense into me, told me what a fucking idiot I was being, and explained exactly what I needed to do to fix things. Now it's my turn.”

“What do you mean? I'm not the one letting scum balls fuck me in the ass when I will not even let my own boyfriend do it.”

“You knew Roger was damaged goods. You knew he had some serious shit in his past. You seem to think that despite that, he has to be perfect. Yeah he fucked up, but when he tried to tell you about it, you wouldn't even listen to him. I'll bet right now he feels lower than dirt. You busted him doing something kinky that he either likes or needs and just slammed him for it.”

“So it's OK for him to be the bath house whore?”

He laughed at me. “I should just write hypocrite across your forehead. How many guys do you do? Do you tell Roger about all of them? About the Hollywood parties? So it's OK for you to redefine the word slut but he has to be monogamous.”

“I'm not pissed about that. I'm pissed because he lied to me, told me he had not been with guys, and he's a fucking regular in the sling.”

“Maybe he lied to you because he was worried that you wouldn't understand and that you'd react like, well, like you're reacting right now. I'm not saying you have to forgive him, but you should at least listen to him. I thought you said you loved him.”

And then it hit me like a thunderbolt, and I knew Sam was right. I'm not sure if I was wrong or not to be pissed about what he was doing, but I was wrong not to even listen to him, to blow him off like that. Sam watched my expression change and put an arm around me. “So what do I do now Sam?”

“You have to go to him and talk to him. Let him explain. Then decide if you want to be with him. But you have to at least give him that much attention.”

I looked around like I was trapped, and I was. Here I was in fucking Claremont and I needed to be back in California right now.

Sam laughed at me. “There are no flights out until tomorrow, so just relax.”

“I'm supposed to stay two more days after this and help Tonto pack up all her shit.” God I was dreading that. I looked at Sam, wanting to ask him but I couldn't.

“Alright, I'll do it,” he said, reading my mind. “JP and I will stick around and help Tonto pack up. But you owe me big time.”

I smiled and was about to kiss him when I thankfully remembered where I was. “I will remember that. I always pay my debts.” I looked around for JP. “Speaking of debts, where is your boyfriend?”

“I have no fucking idea.”

“You know, I'm kind of tired of this festival. You want a ride home?” He grinned and we made excuses to Tonto, left a message for JP, and went back to Tonto's house and fucked like rabbits. God Sam was good. Maybe I should break them up and steal him, not JP, I joked to myself.

That night we sat on the Commons, watching the fireworks, and everyone seemed to be pissed off at someone for something. JP was pissed at me for taking Sam away from the festival and fucking him, while Sam was pissed at JP for whatever he did with Frank Hayes. Isidore was pissed at me for promising Brad he could go to LA with me, and Tonto was pissed at me for leaving the next day. The only good thing was that Nick and Bitty were pissed at me too, since they were flying out tomorrow and they would have the singular honor of riding to the airport with me. At least I'd managed to piss off the two people I really wanted to piss off. As soon as the fireworks were over I headed straight to my car.

I felt someone grab my shirt and turned around to see an abashed looking Nick with Bitty behind him. “Um, Stefan, if you're going home can you give us a ride?”

I looked at them fiercely, trying to scare them. It worked, and I felt like a big bully. “Sure, come on,” I said. We rode home in silence.

July 5, 1973

I had tossed and turned all night, so by the time I finally got to sleep early this morning I was so exhausted I almost slept through my alarm. That led to a frantic scene with me, Nick, and Bitty packing frantically and leaving without much fanfare. It was probably just as well.

They didn't say anything for most of the ride. Finally, with the airport in sight, Nick asked me: “Why do you hate us?”

“I do not hate you, I dislike you. I dislike you because you are assholes.” I wasn't about to mince words with them.

“No we're not,” argued Bitty.

“Yes we are,” said Nick. We both looked at him, shocked. No one said anything as I checked them in, and then went to my own airline to catch my flight.

I had to change planes in O'Hare, and our flight was late arriving so I was completely paranoid that I'd miss my connection. I did make it, barely, but even then our flight was late. Fucking thunderstorms holding up air traffic. I landed in San Jose around 9PM, and I was tired, but not too tired to do what I had to do.

I left the airport and headed straight to the gay fuck palace. I figured that if I had slammed Roger like Sam said I did, then he'd probably be there letting those other guys ‘punish’ him, or whatever the deal was that made him get off on it.

I went in, just like the last time, and stripped down in the locker rooms. My hot friend was nowhere to be seen tonight. The place seemed to be filled with older guys, although some of them were pretty nice to look at. I headed straight to the room with the sling and just as I suspected, there was Roger, getting pounded by an older Latino man. I stood in line to fuck him but made sure he couldn't see me.

“He's taken three guys already,” the guy in front of me said. “Don't know if he'll be up to it by the time we get up there.” He was next up. I got out of line and walked up to Roger and looked down at him. He looked incoherent, just tossing his head back and forth, his big hard cock flying around as he was getting fucked, leaking like a sieve. He looked really sexy. His eyes opened and he met mine and he panicked. I saw a tear run down his cheek as he tried to stop but couldn't quite bring himself to.

I leaned in and kissed him gently, then more passionately. He responded, responded with all of his being, telling me how much he missed me and how much he loved me. I moved my mouth to his ear. “I'm going to suck on your cock while this guy fucks you, and I'm gonna make you cum, and cum hard.” He moaned. “And then, we're going to go get cleaned up and I'm going to listen to you like I should have in the first place.” I moved my mouth down to his cock, to the smell and taste I knew so well, and he blew almost immediately. He blew so much I couldn't swallow it all, some dribbled down onto his pubes.

He got up and the guy that was fucking him was pissed because he hadn't shot yet, but when he saw Roger at full stature, he shut up and left. He hugged me tightly, clinging to me. “Come on,” he said, “let's get the fuck out of here.”

We each drove our cars down to the winery. It wasn't that far, and neither one of us wanted to leave our vehicles there overnight so any prying eyes would catch on that we'd actually been there. It gave me time to think about that little encounter. Roger is flawed, just like Sam said, but he loves me.

We pulled up to his house and headed in. As soon as I was through the door his lips were on mine, his hands tracing down my back and pulling my ass into him. “I want to talk to you baby, but I also want to make love to you so bad. God I want you.”

I was riled up, fuck, I was horny as hell, so it was no surprise that our clothes were flying off of us and in no time at all we were in the bed and he was in me, working my body like it was his own, making me squirm in ecstasy, with his every move and touch. I came so long it felt like a multiple orgasm, and I had just enough energy to collapse back into him, feeling his strong body curved around mine, and his dick slowly softening and sliding out of my ass. Neither one of us said anything for a long time. I was afraid that somehow talking about all this shit would fuck up our happy moment, and I didn't want to ruin it.

“I'm really sorry that I lied to you Stef. I really am. I was just so worried about how you'd react, and I thought if I told you how I was into this kinky shit that you'd just freak out and dump me.”

“Turns out you had some just cause for feeling that way,” I said. “So what is this thing that you do?”

“I don't know. I told you about Bobby. So whenever I feel down, or things aren't going the way I want, I find someone, doesn't matter who, to fuck me. And it's like they're punishing me, but I like it. I don't know. It's pretty fucked up.”

“Well, I'm not one to criticize you for your kinky sexual tastes, but there are a few things that bothered me. First of all, it was not that you lied about what you were doing; it was that you lied about doing anything. I felt like an ass, thinking you were sitting around jacking off waiting for me when you were doing that. But I can forgive you for that. God knows I'm not perfect.” He hugged me tight and I could feel his smile.

I turned to face him. “The second thing is that you will let these total scum bags fuck you, but you will not let me do it, and when I finally do, you freak out. I mean, I'm not a bad lay. I know what I'm doing. What's wrong with me?”

“There's nothing wrong with you. It's just that those other guys mean nothing to me. You mean the world to me. When you fucked me it was like you were punishing me, and having your disapproval was too much for me to bear. Ever since that night I've been there constantly, trying to not feel shitty, and it just makes it worse.”

“You see the futility of this cycle?” I asked. “And anyway, if you're going to do this, at least pick some hotter guys so it will turn me on too.” I giggled and he snaughed, and that gesture reminded me of the other guy, not too terribly unlike Roger, that had been too fucked up to save.

“I started seeing a shrink. After that night, I found one. I like him, he's a nice guy, and he doesn't judge me. He says that he thinks we can work on this, work so that I don't want to do this, and then he said maybe I can even learn to enjoy it. But it would be so much easier if you were still with me. I love you Stef. Please don't leave me.”

He was pleading now, and I had nowhere near the resolve to reject him, even if I wanted to. And I didn't. I wanted him. I wanted to love him, and I wanted him to love me back.

“When is your next appointment?” I asked.

“Two weeks.”

“Good. I'm taking Brad to LA tomorrow for a few weeks. Come with me.”

“You asking me or telling me?”

I giggled, remembering the time he asked me out on our first date. “Does not matter, as long as you go with me.” He remembered too, and laughed aloud with me, and then made love to me again.

July 8, 1973

I had forgotten that JP and Sam were doing my job and helping Tonto, so they didn't get back until yesterday. That had kept us cooling our jets here at Escorial, waiting for Brad. I had been expecting the third degree from Isidore, but JP must have gotten her in line. She was as pleasant as could be, and very helpful to boot. Tonto raged and fumed about both of us being gone, but we just ignored her. If she was going to be a cantankerous old crone, she was going to find herself shut out.

The last few days had been nice, really nice. I'd spent time at the office and gotten caught up. The truth of the matter is that Luke and Cecile had gotten so good at their jobs, the only thing they needed from me was the decision on how much of my money and the company's money to allocate to deals, and how much of it to raise from investors. And that was pretty easy. I'd need to work on new compensation packages for them, and a promotion or fancy new title or something.

Cecile was really a sweetheart too. The land right next to the winery had come up for sale. In fact it was more of the same hill, and half of it was planted as a vineyard too. Cecile had locked in a contract first thing and gotten an amazing steal. Both she and Luke were always watching out for me.

The three of us boarded the flight. The seats were two to a side, so I sat next to Brad and Roger got stuck three rows back next to a talkative businessman. I smiled and went back to whisper in his ear that it was a short flight. I was glad anyway, because it gave me a chance to talk to Brad.

“I need to ask you a question, blood brother,” I said. He giggled. “You said Josh was your boyfriend. Did you do anything with him?”

“Yeah, we went to Disneyland and then we...” I cut him off. Sharp little shit, trying to dodge the question.

“I mean sexually.”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you touch his penis, or did he touch yours?”

“I don't want to talk about this.”

“No way blood brother,” I said. “You have to tell me. It's just me, and I promise that it will stay between us.”

“Yeah, but if I tell you that I didn't, you won't believe me, and if I tell you that I did, you'll freak out and say that I'm just a kid and too young to be doing stuff like that.”

“Well, you're wrong. About the freaking out part. I'm not going to freak out on you no matter what. But you are a kid, and it isn't right for you to be touching other men.”

“Why not?”

“Did you?”

“Yes.” I just looked at him supportively. “I touched him first. I snuck into his room in LA and he was on his bed with no clothes on and his, uh, thingy, was hard.”

I giggled. “The correct anatomical term is penis, a slightly off color term is dick, and a nasty term is cock. Let's go with dick, OK?” He giggled with me.

“I was really curious; I wanted to see what it was like. So I watched it for awhile and then I touched it. Then I stroked it. I noticed he was awake then, and I got scared, but he told me that it felt good, and that it was OK. Then he showed me how to do it better, and it was really cool. He got all squinched up and moaned really loud and this white stuff came out of the end.”

“That's called ejaculating, but we usually say ‘cumming’,” I said, still working on terminology.

He was studying me, trying to evaluate whether to go on or not, but I was forcing myself to be calm. Quite frankly, I was pretty calm. I mean, what the fuck was I going to do about it now? Josh was dead. And Brad was genuinely curious, had come on to him, and Josh, being a pedophile, well, there was no way he could resist a kid as cute as Brad.

“When we went to Disneyland and stayed at the hotel, he touched my, uh, dick too. It felt good but no white stuff came out. He said that happens when I get older. Then he put his mouth on it, and that really felt good. I did the same thing to him, and when the white stuff came out I got some in my mouth. It was gross.” I had to laugh at that, even though it wasn't funny.

“Well, you cannot do that again, OK? I know it seems fun, but you're still a little young to be experimenting, especially with guys that are adults.” He got ready to argue but I stopped him. “You know how when you got Josh all excited, before he shot out his white stuff?” He nodded. “When men get like that, they get really worked up, and sometimes they get pretty aggressive. They might try to make you do things you do not want to do. You're playing with fire.”

“What kind of stuff?” he asked.

“They might try to put their dick in your butt.”

“Why would they do that?”

“Because it feels good,” I said. “Just like when you had a mouth around it and it felt good.”

“That would hurt,” he said.

“Yes it would.”

“Do you let Roger put his dick in your butt?” Fuck. Back at the abyss again, and the little shit had me.

“Yes.”

“Can I watch him do it?”

“No.” And that seemed to effectively end that conversation. Maybe it was wrong to be so open with a kid, but Brad was smart, and I decided that he had enough parental influences in his life. He was going to need a guide, and that's something that I could do.

We caught a cab and made it to Malibu, still early in the day. It was a beautiful day, and since Jason was nowhere to be found, we went out to the beach. Brad ran out into the water, throwing himself into the waves. He seemed to revel in their power, and thrived on cheating them out of their intent to drown him.

Roger and I were worried about him so we went into the water too. We were the ones that ended up getting wiped out, not him. He thought that was pretty funny.

We were an exhausted trio, heading into the house, when Jason appeared. He looked so good these days, so confident, so happy, and so secure. Time for me to burst his bubble.

“How was Claremont?” he asked.

“I saw Vivienne and Heather,” I responded coldly, and his confident, secure facade crumbled.

“Uh, how are they doing?”

“They're having a tough time. They’ve not heard from you, and you have not sent them any money.” I felt Roger's hand on my shoulder, reminding me to take it easy. He wasn't the only damaged puppy in my life.

“She told me to get out of her life. That she never wanted to see me again,” he said sullenly.

“Jason, I'm not going to give you some massive guilt trip, OK. But you have to support your daughter. Period. You have to send money to Vivienne.” He nodded.

“I gave her some money to tide her over for a few weeks until you got some off to her, and I gave her our number here to get in touch with you.”

“You gave her money?” I couldn't read whether he was pissed or not. Then his expression softened. “Thanks Stefan. I guess I've been a real shithead. How is Heather?”

“She's adorable. In fact, Vivienne gave me something for you.” I ran upstairs and fumbled through my briefcase to find the picture, and then ran downstairs with it.

He looked at her and a tear fell down his cheek. “She is gorgeous. So cute,” he said.

“Yes, she is. And you know what? Vivienne even said that she missed you.”

“She said that Heather missed me?”

“No you idiot,” I said with a smile, “Vivienne said that she missed you.”

“Guess I should call her,” he said with a big grin and wandered off to find a phone.