The Land Whore - 7. Chapter 7

March 18, 1973

I walked up to JP and wrapped my arms around him. He tried to break away, flailed a bit, even tried to hit me, but I just stood there with an iron grip and he finally collapsed into me and cried. No, sobbed. And that was something he rarely did. I stroked his hair, his beautiful thick blond hair, and murmured “I love you,” into his ear as he vented his anger and frustration, and then, much more horribly, his pain. Finally, when it seemed he could cry no more, I led him to his bed, undressed him, and tucked him in. I was about to go when I felt his iron grip on my wrist.

“Stay,” he said simply. I nodded and took off all of my clothes and climbed into bed behind him, wrapping my arms around him, willing my dick to stay down. It was hard to do that with JP. He is really just so adorable. He has a thin, strong body, not muscular, but lithe and graceful. I love to watch him dance; whether he's at a formal ball or a dance club, his movements are fluid and sexy. And making love to him is an experience without parallel. He dives into sex with vigor, and puts everything he is into it, with intensity and an attention to pleasure fulfillment that only one other person could probably match: Me. I giggled to myself and then realize I'd gotten hard as a rock.

“You little slut. You're supposed to be consoling me, not trying to fuck me,” JP said as he pushed his ass back into my hard dick.

“I cannot be in bed with you, holding you, and control myself,” I said. He reached for the lube on the nightstand and handed it to me. I lubed myself up and entered him lovingly. “I am always here for you, first and foremost, always,” I said. Then the talking ended and we just moved together slowly for what seemed like an eternity, just being bonded, being together, until we began to pick up our pace and then, together, we exploded in a beautiful, tender orgasm.

He rolled over and put his head on my chest. “That was really nice,” he said. “How special you are to me.”

“Thanks. I love you too,” I said. “What are you going to do?”

“About what?” he said, dodging the subject.

I playfully grabbed his hair and used it to pull his face up so his eyes met mine. “About Sam.”

“I don't know. It's really his problem to work out. I'm so pissed at him, and so hurt. I mean, I never put limits on him if he wanted to mess around, but it's just been an assumed thing that we were with each other. I didn't even know he was doing anyone else. And a girl. Maybe he's not even gay?”

“Well, he is at least a little gay or he would not suck our dicks,” I said, trying to keep things as light as I could. “Are you going to forgive him?”

“He needs to work this out. Decide what he wants, if he wants her or me. Then he needs to ask me to forgive him, beg, crawl, and let me kick him a bit to show him what it felt like when he hurt me. Then maybe I'll forgive him.” He had gotten mean and vicious in the middle of his diatribe, but the last statement still summed it up.

“Damn. Another opportunity lost. I keep waiting for you to be in between boyfriends so I can snatch you up, but you are so popular I am never quite there on time.” I was joking, or at least I wanted him to think that.

“I thought you were happy with the way our relationship is now?” he said, totally serious. He'd read me like a book. I always forgot how clever he was, especially when he seemed hurt and in a fog. His brain never stopped working.

“I am happy. But it was different once before, a long time ago, and I really liked that too. Someday, if we ever have a chance to try again, I think I'd like that.”

Rarely was I so honest and open about deep, secret feelings. I don't know what came over me. He didn't either. He just looked at me, first with confusion, then with love.

“Right now I have to deal with some issues. I don't want to go anywhere new while that's unresolved, because if things work out with Sam, and they probably will, I want us to be the same.” I nodded, not sadly, just resignedly. “But can I tell you something, just between us?” I nodded again. “If the cards were to deal us the hand, I'd like to try again too.”

I just stared at him, stunned, until his lips were on mine, his hands were on my body, rolling me over, and he was inside me, making love to me. And I felt a connection just like I'd felt with Peter, and it was fun and gleeful, then when it was over, it was very confusing.

March 19, 1973

It was chaos, pandemonium, and it was all my fault. I was pushing my staff way too hard, in way too many directions. It was starting to show in wear and tear on all of us, and it was starting to show in our performance. We were tackling so many things we weren't doing anything well at all. It was time for a strategy session, so I met with Jason, Luke, and Cecile to plan the next move.

We had made so much money with real estate we could not deny that was our core business. Cecile had taken control of that part of the company and was doing great, but I needed to support her and not throw new things on her plate. Luke was moving ahead with his venture capital business, and since he had that under control, there was really no reason to interfere there. That meant there were two big projects on the table.

The first was raising money. If we were going to keep taking on partners, we were going to have to quit skirting the securities laws and do it legitimately, which meant we had to form a brokerage firm. That could take some time, but once we were rolling, we'd be able to raise money much more easily, and more legally (which implied a gray area that may not even exist). The second was our winery project. Everyone was enthusiastic, but they just didn't see how we could do it right now and keep everything afloat.

“What does the model show?” I asked Luke.

“The full blown plan will take an additional cash investment of $1,000,000,” he said. “Roger is coming out this afternoon to crunch the numbers. He knows we can't put that kind of money up right now.”

“Good. Maybe we can nurse it along, bide some time? Cheaply?” I asked.

“Join us for lunch. We'll talk about it,” Luke suggested.

There are times in corporate life when you meet and meet and meet and seem to go nowhere. Then there are those days where you have a meeting that totally refocuses you and the company and is golden. This meeting ended up being one of the latter. I made Jason responsible for getting the brokerage firm set up. He was nervous about that, but I nudged him along. I needed it to get done, and I knew he'd get it done. It was just that simple.

As lunch time rolled around I found myself looking forward to seeing Roger. He was so cute, a gentle giant with an internal animal that was wild and exciting when he let it loose. With his long dark blond hair and farm boy build, he was as handsome as any of those guys in LA, only more wholesome, more real. And his skin was so soft, despite the sun and work outside; it was like there was a padding of fat spread gently over his muscles to make him soft and cuddly. I recoiled; horrified at the realization that he was a lot like Jeff. An awful lot. Strong and quiet, soft and muscular. JP had called Jeff his “teddy bear” and that certainly worked for Roger too. Was I just latching on to him as a way to hang on to Jeff? After all these years? I chided myself for being an idiot. There were lots of guys with those strengths and characteristics. And they were sexy. I daydreamed off into space until Jason interrupted me to cover a few details.

I was nervous at lunch. Nervous first of all because I wanted to get physical with Roger. My body yearned for his unrestrained lust, even though I knew I had to contain myself and be professional. But I was more nervous because I wasn't going to be able to fund him as I wanted too.

“Roger, I've looked at all the financials and the plans you and Luke and Cecile have put together, and I really like the strategy. The only problem is that I do not have the money to do it all right now.”

I expected to see him looking sad and dejected, but he was remarkably chipper. Luke seemed surprised too, which convinced me I wasn't being played by the two of them. “I think I have a solution. Why don't you let me run the vineyards as they are right now? We won't make a lot of money, but it will keep us in the game until we're ready to be a big player. I modified the numbers and came up with an alternative.” He pulled out some handwritten spreadsheets that Luke immediately began to pore over.

“So you're planning to use about a fourth of the harvest to make wine, and then sell the rest to other wineries,” Luke said, grasping it quickly. I tried to move myself into the background, mentally, to watch the two of them in action.

“That's right,” Roger said. “With that we can make our debt service payments and generate an 8% return on our own invested capital.” Luke jumped in again, and between the two of them they hammered out the entire plan. Only after they were done did they seem to remember that I was there. They looked at me a little sheepishly.

I smiled at them, my biggest, most charming smile. “I am so impressed with both of you. You have no idea how exciting it is to see two young bright minds coalesce into a common plan. I fully support you.” They beamed back at me.

When we got back to headquarters Roger followed me back to my office, past Jason and his rolling eyes. I heard the door click and turned around expecting his full, animalistic assault. Instead I was greeted by a loving, tender kiss. His body pressed against mine, his hard cock throbbed against mine, separated only by our pants.

“This is different from last time,” I teased, breaking off the embrace.

“You don't like it?” he shot back.

“I did not say that. I just said it was different.”

“Seems to me you promised me we could go out sometime,” he said. “I think sometime is tonight.”

“Is that a request or an order?” I asked.

He grabbed me firmly, powerfully, and pushed me back on my desk. He fell on top of me and ground into me with his hips. “Any way you want it to be, as long as we go out,” he said.

I pushed him off of me, feigning annoyance. “Alright. But I'm taking you to dinner, not the other way around.” He started to argue but I stopped him. “That's the deal, take it or leave it.”

“Fine,” he said.

“Good. We leave here at 5pm. In the meantime, go find something to do so I can get my dick to go down.” He laughed at that, a snort and a laugh combined, a snaugh, just like Jeff used to do. These comparisons were going to really bug me if I didn't stop making them.

I had a productive day, but I wasn't happy with where we were. We'd made a lot of commitments based on our ability to raise money, but I hadn't researched the process enough and we had this brokerage issue to work out first. That left me with lots of commitments, with lots of demands on money, and not much left to work with. I ran the numbers. If I was going to finish all of the projects on my own, or with some help from family, I'd have to come up with $2,000,000. That was way more than I had, and it assumed that the banks would loan me money at a favorable interest rate and at a loan to value rate of at least 80%. I ground through my financials and made some rough decisions. All of my cash real estate could be mortgaged. That would bring in about $1,500,000. Then I could sell the house in Saratoga. That would bring in a couple of hundred thousand dollars. I called and set up a meeting with my banker for tomorrow at my office. The only other option was to dump the vineyard, and I just couldn't do that to Roger. Sometimes business had to be personal.

As if on cue he came strolling into my office. He was really magnificent. He had a really cute, boyish face, but not in a “pretty boy” kind of way, more in a playful athletic kind of way. I remembered Jackie's house and all the pictures she'd had of successful actors, and one had struck me as a dead ringer for Roger: Sean Flynn, Errol Flynn's son or grandson or something like that. I studied him, mentally comparing their features and deciding that they could damn near be twins.

“So where are you taking me?” he asked.

“Home,” I said simply as I grabbed my keys.

“Home? Who's going to be there?” he asked.

“Probably the bogeyman. Why, you scared?” I teased.

“Nope. Just wanted to know who I was going to meet.” As we drove to Escorial I filled him in on all of its dysfunctional residents. He whistled as we drove through the gates and headed up the drive to the house. “Nice place.”

“It is. It belongs to my cousin, JP. I've lived here ever since I moved to California. Maybe if you're a good boy I will show you my own house.”

“What if I'm a really bad boy instead?” he said playfully, which was totally out of character for him. He'd been so quiet and calm, humor was something I just didn't expect from him.

“That may work.” Our ripostes were cut short when I pulled into the garage. I grinned at Rafael and introduced him to Roger. I led him into the house and snuck him into my room before anyone could stop us. I locked the door and exhaled, relieved to be alone with him, finally.

“You brought me straight to your bedroom? You think I'm that easy?”

“Yes, I do. And you were going to show me what a bad boy you can be, no?” He moved toward me and picked me up, tossing me effortlessly over his shoulder and carrying me to the bed. He put me down and started pulling his clothes off frantically. I followed suit, staring up at his monumental physique, and then striking a seductive pose on the bed. His big cock was straining from being so hard, and he walked over to the bed and climbed in next to me. Then his mouth was on mine, his tongue demanding total access and freedom of my mouth, his body was on mine, grinding against me, rubbing against me, and in no time we both blew our loads all over each other.

“So when we first met, you gave me a bunch of shit for being gay, yet here you are, turning into one amazing queer lover.”

“I know. I'm sorry about that. Do you mind if we don't talk about that right now? I'm just enjoying you, and myself, and I don't want to think too much about what that means.”

I grinned at him. In no time he had recovered and had rolled me onto my side. He moved up behind me, wrapping his arms around me and using our cum as lube to enter me. I felt him enter me, and thought once again what a perfect fit he was. “Oh yeah, baby, fuck me,” I said, starting to talk.

“Shhhhh,” he said, brushing his finger over my lips. “Sometimes quiet is nice, and I want you to hear me, hear how hot you make me.” And with that he lovingly yet aggressively drove into me, keeping his mouth near my ear, panting and moaning as he went. It was so erotic, so sensual, that I literally lost control. I was flailing around in his arms, almost fighting with him but not quite, and then he made me cum. My second orgasm, but it was more intense than the first. After he came, we lay on the bed with him on my chest. I played with his beautiful hair, and ran my fingers over his strong shoulders.

I thought Roger would turn out to be a fun boy toy to occupy my time, but he had just given me one of the top ten orgasms of my life. He rivaled Peter and JP in his ability to connect with me. Not only that, he was such a rookie at this that I could train him to be even better, I thought playfully. I'd gone from no men in my life to three of them. Did I get to choose? If I did, which one did I want? I dragged Roger into the shower to spruce up for dinner, and even though he had completely worn me out before, he made love to me again and it was magical.

We were heading to dinner when we ran into Sam. “I did not know you were back home,” I said. He leaned over and kissed me, then shook hands with Roger.

“I didn't know if this still was my home,” he said glumly.

I just looked at him angrily. “You are such an idiot.”

“What is that supposed to mean? I guess I knew you'd be on his side.”

That comment tripped a switch in me and I did something I rarely did. I lost it and cut loose on Sam. “You are an asshole. We have been friends for years, and I have never given you reason to think I would ever desert you. You obviously do not think very highly of me. Do not blame me because you fucked up your life.”

“So it's all my fault? I said I was sorry. I groveled. What more can I do?” He was swinging from defiance to sadness. I was aware of Roger's strong presence behind me, backing me up 100%.

“It is all your fault. You are the one that crossed so many lines. You are the one who risked upsetting the whole household where there are four kids depending on us to be stable. You are the one who could not keep your dick in your pants and ended up devastating a guy who is totally devoted to you. This is all your fault. Totally and completely.”

He hung his head in shame. “You're right.”

“I know I am. You wonder why he does not forgive you, why I have no respect for you right now. Do you not know why? You just whine, say you're sorry. Be a man Sam. Grow a pair. Solve your problems. What do you think, that you will come slinking back and JP will go ahead and fix everything for you? What are you going to do with that stupid girl you banged? You going to marry her? Throw away an amazing relationship for her?”

“No, I'm not going to marry her,” he said.

“Well then say so. Tell her. Tell JP. Fix it. God, you piss me off. You are such a big pussy.” I shoved him out of my way and headed to the dining room. I paused in the great hall to compose myself. Roger was looking around at the house with interest.

“You're kind of scary,” he said. I looked up at him, ready to rip him apart, when I saw his dazzling smile and realized that he was teasing me. I started laughing, and that busted my bad mood.

We wandered into the dining room and the kids swamped me. Ace introduced himself to Roger, which made me smile. I introduced him to the others. Isidore was gracious, and JP was affable as ever.

“Will Sam be joining us?” asked Isidore innocently.

“I don't think he will,” JP said with no emotion in his voice.

“You did not throw him out did you?” she asked, alarmed.

“Of course not,” he said, showing some irritation, but only briefly. “Stefan explained some things to him and he needed to contemplate them, I suspect.” He smiled at me and Roger snaughed. JP's mouth dropped, but only briefly, and he composed himself again. After that dinner was simply fun. The kids asked him all about vineyards. Roger excused himself and headed back toward my room.

“You and I have to talk after dinner,” JP said to me firmly. I gulped. He's the only one who could really intimidate me. I was about to respond when Roger came back carrying a couple of bottles of wine.

“I brought a few bottles of the wine I made. I hope you like it.” Isidore beamed at him and got up to get a corkscrew, which she handed to JP.

“Can we try some of Roger's wine?” Ace asked.

Isidore looked at him indulgently. “A little will do you no harm.” The wine was really good. I was surprised at how good it was. So were JP and Isidore. I guess I had just assumed that Roger was a charity case. I hadn't given him any credit for having real talent. That was going to change right now. I could tell that the kids didn't really like the wine, but they liked being allowed to drink it.

After dinner the kids ran off to play and JP, Roger and I repaired to the patio to smoke some weed. When Roger saw JP's joint, he got up and rushed off. I was nervous that he was upset with us, or that we had offended him. JP just sat there frozen, not knowing what to think. In no time Roger returned, fumbling through a small bag. “Here, try this one,” he said, handing JP a joint. “I grew this from some seeds a friend of mine brought back from Hawaii. It's pretty good.” JP shrugged, thanked Roger, and lit it up.

Ten minutes later we were all stoned, really stoned. Roger had some great wine, and some amazing weed. JP asked Roger all kinds of questions. He'd been raised primarily by his grandfather, who had left the farm to him. His parents were hippies. They'd run off and left him. He hadn't seen them in years, but that didn't seem to matter. If anything, he seemed glad they were gone. What did matter was that he was all alone in the world now, with his grandfather gone. My heart went out to him, and I saw JP warming up to him as well.

We decided to go swimming. I giggled as JP stared at Roger's beautiful physique. Roger caught him looking and struck a pose, which made JP blush three shades of red. We had a blast swimming around, naked and stoned. Roger swam up to me and I felt something hard brush against me and I giggled. I headed to the shallow end and they followed me.

“Stand up,” I said to Roger. He obliged, and rose from the water like Neptune, his big beautiful cock aimed right at JP. Roger saw his look and reached out and guided JP's head to his dick, moaning as JP expertly went down on him. He looked to me for approval, and I gave it to him with a wink. I moved behind him, running my mouth down his back, his spine, and down his crack, forcing his cheeks apart and diving into his ass. I let my tongue explore at will, enjoying his strong male smell that the chlorine hadn't quite eradicated, and made sure to moan loudly into him, letting the vibrations penetrate his most guarded of places.

“Jesus, you two are gonna make me cum,” he said a little too loudly, and then he started moaning and panting as he filled JP's mouth with his essence. I loved it, feeling his tight pucker squeeze spastically against my tongue. He was spent, but we were still horny as hell. I got out of the water and grabbed a towel for myself and tossed two to JP and Roger.

“Come on guys,” I said with a grin. “Let's retire to my room.”

“I don't want to impose,” JP said. Roger picked up on the sadness beneath that.

I'd never seen him be tender to someone, well, besides me. He leaned down and kissed JP on the lips. “I'd really like it if you did,” he said. That's all it took. JP followed him like a lost puppy dog. The night was like one long euphoric fog, wrapped up with two of the guys that I had feelings for. There was something about Roger that just encouraged us to do anything that we wanted to, sex that was so uninhibited and so erotic I felt like I was cumming even when I wasn't. The most memorable moment was when JP was sitting on my face with my tongue up his ass and I felt Roger's mouth envelop my cock. He'd never done anything like that before. He'd always acted like a straight guy that had been kidnapped and forced to fuck some unhinged fags, but he had initiated it, worked it, and when he made me cum he drank every last drop. I drifted off to sleep draped across his chest.

March 20, 1973

I woke up and felt his soft skin underneath me while warmth radiated from his body like a furnace. I extended my leg across his body and brushed it over his morning hard on, and decided to slide all the way over and just straddle him. I lined myself up, still lubed from our fuck fest last night, and lowered myself onto his perfect penis, rolling my eyes up in ecstasy as I felt him rub against my spot.

“Mmmmmm,” he said as he woke up. He thrust up into me, getting into it without missing a beat. “Great way to wake up.” I lifted myself up off of him and let him set the pace, thrusting up into me with his powerful hips and legs. In no time at all he blew into me. I had been so into him I hadn't anticipated how close he was. He rolled me over so quickly I thought he was mad for a minute until I felt his mouth swallow me again. His finger probed my hole, replacing his dick, and the dual stimulation set me free. In no time I pumped my morning load down his throat.

“You're pretty good at that,” I said, inviting conflict.

“Thanks,” he said cheerfully. “I enjoy it because it's you.”

“You are so full of shit. And so cute,” I said. “Let's shower. I have a busy day.”

He joined me in the shower and nuzzled into my neck. “I enjoyed our date,” he said.

I giggled. “Me too.”

“What are you doing tonight?” he asked.

Part of me wanted to come home and enjoy my family, maybe enjoy some solitude. But it was a small part. “Hopefully spending it with you.” That got me a big smile.

The banker arrived promptly at 10am. He was in his mid 40s and looked just like a typical banker, with conservative clothes and short clipped hair. He was at least 40 pounds overweight. The only thing that was mildly attractive was the dimple in his left cheek, but that only came out when he leered at me, which creeped me out. Still, I needed him, and I'd do what I had to do to get out of my dilemma.

“Mr. Schluter, you are asking us to finance your properties at an 85% loan to value ratio. That is at least 10% higher than this bank was willing to contemplate.” Was willing? What did that mean?

“I know I'm asking for a big favor, but I've been a good customer, have I not? And even though I'm asking for a higher ratio, I'm willing to pool all the properties and loans, so you will have ample cross-security.” I got up and walked near him, taking a seat on my desk right in front of him.

“You certainly bring a lot to the table,” he said, staring at my crotch.

I made my decision and swallowed my pride. “You are not going to make me beg?” I said as I knelt in front of him with a hand on each of his thighs. They were flabby, and felt mushy to my touch.

“It's tempting,” he said.

“Come on Gerald, will you give me my loans?” I moved my mouth along his thigh up to his crotch, where his hard cock was slightly tenting his pants. It figures he'd be small. I lowered his zipper and released the thing, running my mouth down and up his shaft while I tongued the pointy head.

“Ahhhh,” he said. I stopped to stare at him. “You got your loans,” he said. I resumed my work, determined to give him a fantastic blow job. I worked him like I was enjoying myself, and when he shot his load, his tart, foul-tasting wad, I swallowed it and licked my lips like it was the best I'd ever had. He smiled and thanked me, and promised me we could sign all the papers tomorrow at his office. I'd probably have to do this all over again. Yuck.