A gay story: Lodge at Lake Tecumseh The Lodge at Lake Tecumseh
This story is entirely fictional. The Lodge and the lake on which it sits do not exist. Any resemblance of any character to a real person is unintended and coincidental. It is my understanding that the working conditions described have improved in recent years. All characters are over 18–as should be any reader as may be required by local law. Copyright 2023, all rights reserved. BD
The sun had yet to rise above the horizon, even though Sean’s cubicle window was high in the building and the window faced east across a broad lake. Sean was restless and couldn’t sleep. He had arrived only yesterday from Dublin and so was jet-lagged and ready to go at only 5 a.m. He rose from the thin-mattressed twin cot and, wrapped only in a threadbare towel, headed for the communal bath he shared on that floor with a dozen other guys who had signed on as busboys and waiters at the exclusive New Hampshire summer resort.
Each year the hotel recruited three to four dozen from Ireland and, in recent years, the Balkans to help staff the dining rooms. The formal dining facilities were one of the attractions of the old shingle-style, wooden Victorian resort monstrosity that dominated the west side of Lake Tecumseh. (The lake was better known to the summer staff as Lake Cum–since it’s shoreline had hosted most of the staff sexual activity for years.)
Locals from the nearby towns also worked at the Lodge, but most had cars and did not board for the summer. (Many locals, however, did laugh at the exaggerated “citified” and stratified manners of their New York and New England guests. And of course, the very name of the lake and the lodge were a secret joke: Chief Tecumseh had been born well south in the Delaware Valley and ultimately made his name in Oklahoma resisting Yankee expansion into native lands. It is doubtful that he or his people ever set foot in New Hampshire. Who the hell had decided to name a New Hampshire lake after a Delaware Shawnee Native American? Surely it was a joke.)
There were an equivalent number of young ladies–mostly chambermaids, housed in the first two floors of the same old structure. Sean thought he was lucky to be on the top floor (nicknamed sarcastically, the penthouse) with a view of the lake–but he would soon realize that the lack of air conditioning in the staff quarters made top floor spaces, particularly those just under the ill-insulated roof, much less desirable as the temperatures rose. In addition, there were no elevators and the water pressure of the tepid water in the communal showers was almost non-existent on the top floor. Each resident had a twin bed, an end table with a lamp, and a hard chair, set in a small “room”–with no wall to the interior, only eye-height side walls filled with wardrobes and chests. Thus, there was no real privacy. The first floor of the building housed the common spaces: sitting and TV rooms with old upholstered furniture left over from previous remodelings of the “luxury” hotel. Fortunately, many spent nights in the Lodge, “guests” of the guests.
With half-shut eyes, Sean wandered into the bath and noted he wasn’t alone in his wakefulness. Two naked guys were at the urinals. Two others were trying out the gang shower. So much for towels. I guess it would be mostly nudity this summer. Fortunately, with three brothers and several years of sports in ancient English-style schools, nudity was neither unusual nor disturbing to him. He splashed water on his face and realized that sleep was not going to happen for the rest of that night. He might just as well clean up, dress and look around before the mandatory 6:30 a.m. orientation.
Uniforms were prescribed once anyone (male or female) was outside the main door of the dorm: dark forest green knit shorts, forest green stretch belts, white tennis sneakers, with mandatory white sox, and white logo-ed polos–until 4; long sleeve white button up shirts, green bow ties, and forest green slacks with black tennis shoes and of course black sox thereafter. Each summer employee was given two of each uniform piece, which were maintained by the hotel laundry– replacements were expensive and at the cost of the employee. He dressed carefully noting that the clothes were close-fitting and revealing, slicked his (mandatory) short hair (carrot red of course) and closely shaved his freckled cheeks and neck.
Sean was one of the older student-staff members. He had started school late and so was already 21. His parents owned a small pub where he had worked for years, so he also qualified as “experienced” and was designated as waiter (with an hourly wage of $1.90 instead of $1.75).
Sean planned to return to Trinity College, Dublin, in September to enroll in his first year. He needed this job and this money to survive–even though Trinity tuition was very modest by American standards–at least for Irish resident-citizens. Sean spoke with a charming brogue. His dark green eyes flashed with each wide smile. He was broad shouldered and flat-bellied, tall and flawlessly polite. In short, he was every Celtic-descent mother’s dream for her daughter–albeit a few years too young, perhaps with much less money, and at least one degree short. For many of the Boston patrons of the hotel, his Catholicism was a big plus. Give him another few years and a little success, and every matronly patron of the Lodge would consider him marriage material. For now, he was a cub, and in training–perhaps the target for a cougar–or a lion.
He had been hired on for twelve weeks–one day off every other week–not the same day each time–and the off-day might be forfeit toward the end of the summer as staff dwindled and the guest population did not. He was expected to work breakfast, lunch and dinner, with about one-two hours between each shift–essentially 6:45 to 9:15. The only saving grace: the Lodge provided entertainment (typical touring summer resort stuff, occasionally peppered with amateur nights provided by staff: cheap comics, has-ben sopranos, and dance bands), each night at 9–so the dining room tended to empty shortly before.
State law limited each day to 12 hours (without overtime and at the waiters’ minimum wage), and therefore tips were vital. The Lodge did not charge its staff for room and board as some did. But it did charge its guests a 25% “resort fee”–in which the waiters who worked until the last day of the summer shared–or at least to the extent of three percent. Cash tips were important–and they tended to be small since the guests assumed the exorbitant resort fee covered meal tips (which it really didn’t). If Sean worked the whole summer, his compensation including his share of the resort fee tip would be about $2000 after taxes and before expenses.
Sean didn’t know anyone, had never traveled outside Ireland before, and he was gay–but locked securely in the closet, at least for this summer. He had had a little experience in Ireland, but had not left a regular partner behind. Liaisons among staff were expected; liaisons with guests were tolerated. So Sean would need to tread carefully so as not to seem aloof, or, God-forbid, gay, if he refrained from sex with other (female) staff. He was expecting a long, solo summer of hard work. Even finding a convenient and private place to jerk would be difficult. He just hoped that he wouldn’t be placed in an impossible social situation. He was going to be on a tightrope–because he was attractive–extremely so for most young ladies (and men of a certain persuasion). He was of age (and thus fair prey), and naturally garrulous and a comedian. He was going to need to completely hide his typical persona, he thought. But, when work began he quickly had to revise his expectations. Sex was indeed going to be part of his summer job. It (he) was apparently implicitly “on offer” at the resort.
The orientation was as expected: a lot of shit, mostly designed to protect the owners of the Lodge. Two issues were identified and emphasized: any “fraternization” with co-workers was discretionary and not condoned by management (no coerced sex). Any similar interaction with guests needed to be very discrete, was outside of employment, had to be initiated by the guest, and was discouraged by the Lodge. Everyone knew that the managers were covering their asses. There was no doubt that the young, attractive flesh, hired for the summer was a significant part of the appeal of the Lodge–and its incredible all-inclusive per diem ($500 and up per person per day).
*********
Sean began his first day as a waiter at lunch. He was wearing his mandatory name tag, which included his age and school. (When he first saw the tag, he thought immediately that the Lodge was effectively painting targets on all of the staff over 18–they were clearly labeled as eligible prey to guests.) The resort had just moved to its “summer” routine and regular guests had been arriving all morning. Lunch was a lavish buffet–to be duplicated four times each week. The waiters were expected to “catch and deliver” overloaded plates to the tables for Lodge patrons (or fill plates to order on request), and provide soups, beverages and desserts. He did well and the meal proceeded without incident. He did feel that many eyes followed his movements, and the eyes were mostly focused on his butt and his basket. But since this was a buffet, there was little interaction with guests and tips were rare and small.
At his last dessert plate delivery, an older male guest, asked a question and, as Sean provided an answer, rolled his hand between Sean’s legs up under the shorts. Then he reached up and palmed Sean’s equipment. Sean smiled, backed off, and avoided further contact. Later he realized the guest had left him a twenty under the plate he removed. It was only his first day!
Did he project gayness that obviously? Is that my price this summer, he wondered? Am I on the menu for men and women?
The summer continued. Sean received many large tips–some as large as a hundred–all with an invitation and generally stuffed into the pocket of his tight shorts or pants. Some he accepted–going to rooms, well after the nominal curfew for staff–10 p.m. Others he ignored. Soon, he knew he was one of the prize preys of the summer. And he began to wonder how he might work this to his advantage–recognizing that he was attracted to many of the men–and even a few of the cougars. Why shouldn’t he make this a summer of profit as well as experiment? He was getting into selling himself as well as the menu.
**********************
Then on the Fourth of July weekend, he got a chance to try out his new routine.
It was dinner. He was serving a table of four–among so many others to which he had been assigned. They had arrived earlier, but hadn’t selected one of “his” tables before that night. They were regulars and just beginning what Sean later learned would become a six week stay. It was late–there was no entertainment. Tonight there would be fireworks. The “host” was young (35-ish?), handsome and, obviously a child of the gym. He gave Sean every indication of sexual interest–although Sean didn’t think he was particularly giving off gay vibes. Maybe this guy was an equal opportunity hunter.
His partner (his wife?), several years his senior, seemed to be running the show. There were two “children”–a young lady of about 22 and a young man, maybe a year younger than his sister. Sean was attracted to the son, and, in motions and words, tried to let it be known, subtly of course, without disclosing his attraction or orientation. The son indicated his interest, but the signs were vague–or perhaps different from what he had experienced in Ireland.
Sean realized that “dad” was also interested in his body, but dependent as he was upon their mother’s vast family fortune–and a mere ornament to their mother’s summer “vacay” as her new (third) husband, he was being very careful. He was a hunk, but recognized his place in her pantheon of acquaintances, clearly the equal or superior of his step-son, but probably below her bridge partners. Perhaps he had been her trainer or a tennis coach. Sean wondered whether the husband and the step-son were getting it on. If so, the mother was oblivious–she was so into herself and her beautiful daughter. Her husband seemed to be her latest boy-toy. As to him, she seemed very mercurial–sometimes smiling, sometimes frowning at him. That relationship was probably were complex.
Sean was not sure how to handle this situation. He was attracted to the hunk–and to the son, but he understood who would pay the bill–the matriarch–including the tip–if any. So, he began to lavish attention upon her, often brushing her shoulders with his hips, and later in the evening, his heavy basket. She was well-preserved, apparently athletic, probably around 50, dressed conservatively but expensively, and wearing a good deal of what appeared to be real jewelry. She didn’t seem to be interested. Maybe he was just too young.
Ultimately, Sean realized he had baited three hooks. And, if he wasn’t careful, he would lose all three potential catches–and tips! And, in the worst case he would lose his job. But, he was incredibly horny. It had been almost two weeks since he had had a chance to jerk.
Before anything more could happen, a single cannon shot pierced the resort’s quiet darkness. It was time for the fireworks over the lake. The lights in the dining room dimmed. Sean saw his potential patrons rise and move to the windows and the terraces. No tip had been left. How New England! So, he didn’t know where he stood–with any of them. Thus, Sean spent the fireworks night alone–and not very well rewarded for the tremendous effort he had expended that day. He guessed you had to be American to understand the significance of this holiday–for him it was a bust.
*********
The same “family” appeared at the same favored table the following day. This was apparently going to be “theirs.” They greeted him like a family servant, and he responded formally and politely, as would be expected of an indentured servant from Ireland. He served lunch flawlessly, smiling obsequiously during the entire meal. Then, they all rose to leave. Sean scanned the table before clearing and found two folded notes. Under the spent dessert plate of the husband, he found the folded hotel stationery: “Today, 3:30, Room 625.” Under the young man’s plate, another note: “Tonight, 10, Room 624.” Sean pocketed the notes and checked under the other two plates, half-expecting invitations there as well! The rest of the meal service was uneventful and Sean was relaxing on his cot by 2:30. He did wonder, however, whether the guys had coordinated their invitations. At any rate, he intended to accept both. After resting for a few minutes, he rose and headed for the showers, deserted mid-afternoon, where he thoroughly cleaned himself, expecting to be used by the hunky DILF.
Promptly at 3:30, Sean knocked lightly on the door of 625, which he now knew was a suite booked for Mr. and Mrs. Peter O’Neill of Brookline, MA. (627 was on the same folio and the guest was Mary Ellen McGrath, as was 624, the guest being John Jacob McGrath.) He also had discovered from a quick look at the internet, that Peter O’Neill had been a champion tennis player on the international circuit until a shoulder injury sidelined him several years before. Now he was EVP-Marketing of McGrath Enterprises, a major condo-developer all along the Eastern coastline–from Maine to Florida. There was no indication that he and Mary Louise McGrath had ever married–although she wore an eye-popping engagement ring and a wedding ring.
Peter opened the door and Sean entered the brightly lit chintzed parlor of the three room suite. Peter was barefoot and had on only the light summer Lodge robe. He hadn’t belted it tightly–so Sean was staring at the tanned, shaved and muscled chest of the champion. “I appreciate your coming on such short notice. Mary Louise will be at bridge and tea until 6. So we can have some privacy. I am assuming you understand why you are here or you wouldn’t have come. You are a handsome young specimen of Irish manhood–my type exactly.” He took Sean into his arms–they were nearly the same height–and kissed him, forcing his mouth open with a talented and insistent tongue. His hands dropped to Sean’s butt. “Nice, very nice. A nearly perfect bubble butt. I think I’m going to be having some fun this afternoon.” Peter dropped the embrace and pointed to the bedroom, his apparently, as he and Mary Louise didn’t always sleep together.
Sean had yet to speak a word. He walked into the room, toe-d off his sneakers and bent to remove the socks. Peter came up behind him, reached around and unbuckled and dropped the shorts, lightly palming the ass cheeks, then pushing his erect manhood into the crevice. He straightened and pulled the polo up and trapped Sean’s arms above his head. At that moment, Sean realized that Peter had lost the robe. Sean felt a massive, hard cock poking him in his lower back. Sean was pushed to the edge of the bed and fell forward, presenting his ass to Peter. Sean assumed this was going to be a quick fuck.
“Oh, Sean. We’re going to play some one on one tennis this afternoon. I’m serving and you’re receiving.” With those words, Peter flipped him. “You’re a nice Celtic morsel. I love those freckles–and of course the ginger hair, especially those curly pubes. Nice dick. Snacking size. I presume about 7 inches? And uncut, how nice. I bet the knob is nice and sensitive under that hood. And it’s probably a dark purple, my favorite flavor in dickheads.”
As Peter was speaking, Sean got his first good look at him. He was Sean’s height, but his shoulders, chest and upper arms were much more developed and muscled. A long dark surgical scar sloped down his right shoulder. Everything tapered nicely to cut abs, an eight-pack, slim hips and a very thick dick, straining to point upward because of its weight. It had a very nice curve, that, in missionary position, would be a prostate-killer. Peter may have been an international sensation on the court, but he was also prime steak for the groupies and gays who followed him around. Sean licked his lips. “Is that what you want, boy? You gotta ask nicely.”
“Please champ, let me suck your big, beautiful cock.”
Peter immediately liked that Sean was calling him “champ.” He crawled over Sean’s chest so that his dick was pointing downward toward Sean’s face and began to feed his dick into Sean’s mouth. Sean sucked in eagerly and used his tongue on the sensitive head. He raised his hands and cupped Peter’s deep hanging balls. They were hot, heavy, and seemed almost alive with their content struggling for freedom and a chance to swim to victory. “Be careful with those breeding sacs, boy. I’m growing dozens of champion tennis players in there. Abruptly, Peter withdrew and dropped onto the bed. He pulled Sean into a spoon and began to worry his nipples. He knew that all Irish boys loved to have their tits worked and sucked–but he’d save something for next time. Sean began to whimper. He knew now that Peter wanted a sub, and if that is what the client wants, that is what Sean was prepared to deliver. Then, Peter dropped his hands to Sean’s shaft, pumped it a few times, then squeezed his balls and pulled them away from his body. Sean moaned in feigned pain. He really loved to be handled roughly, and he sensed that Peter needed to be in control. He wondered whether his older spouse had so emasculated him in bed (or had denied him so much) that Peter needed to work out his aggression on younger guys. Probably.
Sean felt the cock at his doorway. It was very hard and leaking pre-cum. Peter wouldn’t last much longer. “Take me now, champ. I’m ready. Just a little lube.” Peter was ready. His lubed fingers were already opening Sean as Sean’s left thigh was thrown forward on the bed. Then Sean felt the wrapped tip at his opening. It was big, but not much larger than others he had taken. Peter pushed his hips forward and he was lodged. He withdrew a little and stroked in again–farther this time and touching the prostate. “You found the sweet spot, champ. Open it up and stroke the gold.” Then Peter climbed over Sean and bottomed. Sean felt full and complete–the ultimate expectation of a good bottom. Peter began to volley, stroking in precision, long strokes, high lobs, short hard jabs, as his hand reached out to fist Sean’s cock. Peter’s fingers drew down the hood and the index finger began to stroke the ultra-sensitive head. Sean, automatically backed off to avoid the touch, but doing so rammed his ass into Peter–and Peter’s long cock went deeper. Sean was trapped–but it was a trap he loved. Fingers were giving him exquisite pleasure at the tip of his essence and a cock was stroking his chute and prostate with similar results. “I’m cuming champ. Ace me!”
Sean felt Peter tensing his abs and thighs and then he felt the blast–even through the latex. It was hot, boiling hot, and swirling around in the cap like the roiling waters of a flood-swollen rapids. This guy was really a champ. He was hard as a rock. He stroked, served, and slammed with the best–and then he delivered the kill-shot–a bulb filled with his seed and spunk. He had just won a Grand Slam. Sean felt like his sweat-soaked victory towel–or maybe his moist hot jock. But, he didn’t get a victory handshake; he got something much better–he got off, big time. Peter raised his cum-filled fist to Sean’s mouth and offered it to the vanquished boy. “Drink this for me. I want a rematch. Thursday, same time. Now, get the fuck out of here.”
And, as quickly as it started, it was over. But, it was almost 4:30. Peter rose and headed for the shower. Sean dressed and slipped out of the room. Only when he reached his own cubicle to change for the dinner shift did he realize that several hundred had been placed in the back pocket of the shorts. Not a bad afternoon of tennis.
*************
When Sean entered the dining room for dinner, it was already filling. Apparently New Englanders liked early dinners–or suppers, as they called them. There would be entertainment tonight, so the room would be very quiet by 8:45. Of course, the O’Neill-McGraths entered and took their customary by-the-window table. It had a spectacular view of the lake–even though the sunset was hours away. Not all vacationers chose to end their outdoor days so early. So the lake was still filled with sails and party-boats with guests sipping cocktails.
Sean took their order, giving no indication that anything was different. He continued to fawn over Mrs. O’Neill, but was attentive to all. That night, six of his ten tables had elected to arrive early. So Sean was running to keep up with the orders. Wine bottles were opened. Three courses were ordered and delivered flawlessly–Sean never had to ask for whom a specific dish was–he remembered from the order. Thus, there was little time for entertainment with his funny comments or teases. He realized it probably would be a pretty dry night for tips. He really didn’t have the time to cultivate–or make anyone feel particularly special. Thankfully, with the early rush, Sean had moments to breathe toward the end–and he was able to sign out at 9. He was pleased. He intended to accept John Jacob’s invitation (Sean had winked at him surreptitiously as the family rose to leave)–but he needed time to shower. There had been no time when he left Peter’s room only minutes before he was due in the restaurant. So, he walked back to the cubicle, stripped and took a long semi-hot shower. After nine, employees who were not assigned to room service or other restaurant responsibilities could dress as they wished. Sean decided on Irish linen slacks and a button up shirt, but in a show of independence, he went commando and sockless. When he left the dorm, it was nearly deserted. Obviously, it was going to be a party night for the staff.
Shortly after ten, he was quietly moving toward Room 624–after carefully scoping the corridor. (He didn’t want to be seen by any other family members, for he assumed that John Jacob and Peter were not sharing partners.) He knocked. It opened and he walked in. “Sean, I’m JJ. Glad you could be here.”
As usual, Sean waited to be cued by his patron–even though JJ was younger and smaller than he was. JJ was dressed only in boxer briefs and a white tee. He was barefoot. Probably around 5-10, with straight silver blond hair, sky blue eyes and a tanned, but clear skin. He was slight in build, but not skinny. There was little doubt that he was being groomed as the perfect WASP heir to the family’s position and fortune.
“Would you like a drink? I have scotch, gin, mixers and beer.”
So this was going to be slower and more social. He detected that JJ was not entirely comfortable with this style of “date.” “A beer would be great. Thank you.”
“You can get comfortable if you wish.”
“I’m commando–so if I get more comfortable, I will be naked. Would that shock you?”
“Not at all. My frat at BC, it seems, is populated mostly by nudists. I think many of these guys are over-reacting to mater’s puritanical upbringing. They’ve escaped. And so days and nights are filled with nudity, alcohol, and, of course sex.”
“Do you have a boyfriend, JJ?”
“No. In fact, I’ve been experimenting with both boys and girls for the last couple of years. I know that Peter is bi–but he’s not my Dad, so I really don’t care. I don’t confide in him. I’m not naïve. I know he’s come on to me a few times, but I’ve ignored it, feigning distaste. And mother and I don’t talk–she lectures, so I’ve never discussed this with anyone other than a stranger.”
“I’ve known that I was gay for several years. Mum and Pop both know. They’re disappointed–they want grandchildren with their last name; but they don’t give me any grief about it. I just need to be discrete in our hometown–since they own the pub and they don’t want to chase away business if they don’t have to.”
“What do you want from me tonight, JJ?”
“If you’re up for it, I’d like to fuck you–and be fucked by you, with lots of physical contact. No quickies. I’d like you to spend the night. When do you report tomorrow?”
“I will need to leave by 6. My breakfast waiter uniform is back in the dorm and I report at 6:45.” This was going to be his first all-nighter at the Lodge.
“I’ll take that as a yes to my questions.” With those words, he stripped off his tee and boxers, stood and spun around in front of Sean, showing off his lithe, small body–but his out-sized cock and balls. Sean followed and stripped. Then he pulled JJ onto the bed and embraced him. The air-conditioned room was cool. So Sean pulled JJ up and they slipped under the light coverlet. This was going to be a long slow romantic evening–Sean’s favorite. He immediately went in for a deep, soul-searching kiss. JJ responded with passion that contrasted with his aloof WASP demeanor. JJ was, deep down, a firebrand–like those proper Victorian maidens who, when kissed and their bodices unlaced, became tigers. JJ rolled on top of Sean and took his head into both hands and plunged his tongue inside while sucking hard on Sean’s supple lips. Sean scissored open his legs; JJ dropped in; and Sean engulfed his thighs with his long strong legs. The guys were one–in sync, attached, breathing together, hands roaming bodies in stimulation. Sean rolled and found himself on top. His head dropped down and he took each nipple in turn into his mouth, sucking and even pressing his teeth lightly into the flesh. JJ bucked. Sean felt his precum.
“Shall I take you first? I’m clean–I was tested before I took this job and I’ve wrapped every time since.”
“Yes, take me. I’m clean. I’m practically an anal virgin–and I’ve always insisted on safety.”
“Does that mean we can dispense with wrappers?”
“Yes. And, you’ll find plenty of lube under the pillow.”
Sean rolled back onto his knees, reached under the pillow and placed the tube next to them. Then he reached for JJ’s ankles, lifted them and placed them on his shoulders. He knew that this would take some preparation–JJ was probably inexperienced and tight and Sean knew he was a good size. And so he began the exciting task of opening a new lover. He was gentle and careful, frequently bending forward to take JJ’s mouth in his. He distracted with frequent strokes of JJ’s red hot shaft and big wrinkly balls. He licked JJ’s taint and sucked on the pink-turning-red rim. JJ was incredibly passionate and responsive. He was definitely not a stone-faced WASP. And Sean guessed that he was more experienced than he had let on. Soon Sean had three fingers inside and was sawing, stroking the prostate with each pass.
“Stick it in now, Sean. Or I’m going to cum alone. I want to feel you inside.”
So Sean removed his fingers, gave them to JJ to suck, as Sean aimed at the throbbing opening. He pushed and the head sunk in. JJ grimaced, but used his hands to pull Sean’s ass closer–and his cock deeper. JJ wanted this. He wanted it to hurt. So Sean allowed himself to be drawn full in, his balls tapping on JJ’s smooth ass cheeks. Then he paused to allow JJ to recover and stretch. He learned over and kissed him again. Sean released JJ’s calves, and JJ drew them tight around Sean’s waist, trapping him hard inside. Sean tried a short pump. But JJ was having nothing of this soft sex. When Sean pumped, JJ rose up to meet him and used the heels of his feet to pull Sean ever-deeper. The pain was gone; pleasure, deep in his gut, took over. The strokes became longer and harder–and with each Sean stiffened his legs and drew in his abs.
“I’m cuming, JJ. Are you ready?” Before he could even answer, and without even touching his dick, JJ began to shoot long strands of creamy white cum on their chests. Each shot caused anal muscle contractions and Sean felt himself milked dry. Sean collapsed onto JJ, his head falling into the pillow beside him. JJ turned, smiled and gently kissed Sean. They were no longer chilled by the AC.
“That was worth waiting for. Sean, you’re a champion lover.” (With those words, Sean was drawn back to his own word choices that afternoon with Peter. Once again, he wondered whether Peter and JJ had a thing going.)
The rest of the night was similar. JJ fumbled a bit the first time (yes, they each had more than one chance to top) he tried to penetrate Sean’s muscular bubble butt, but he did manage to get it in before he ejaculated. JJ was a gentle lover, but an excitable young man, ready to jack at any stimulation. He used his mouth to arouse and pleasure. He used his hands to caress. And throughout, joy radiated from his big blue eyes. He was discovering a new dimension of himself, getting into receiving from and giving pleasure to a man. And his confidence was blossoming. Given their ages, the guys were indefatigable, rising to a new occasion only minutes after a complete drain. Each event was longer, sweeter, and better. Between each bout, the guys dozed, hugged, and spooned. By the end of the night, each knew the pleasure points of the other and each’s idiosyncratic pre-orgasmic sounds. Sean felt this was definitely more than a hook; it was the beginning of a relationship. But, he knew that relationships with guests were impossible. And this guy, though only a year younger than Sean, was just a boy, obviously still dependent on Mom and Dad for everything.
The alarm sounded at 5:45. JJ’s head was on his chest; his body was on its side, resting against Sean; his left thigh was stretched atop Sean’s legs–so their genitals rested together. And JJ’s left fist was tightly around Sean’s morning wood. This was JJ’s version of a gentle spoon. Sean carefully removed the thigh and opened JJ’s fist. Then, he quietly rose and dressed. JJ rolled over, smiled at Sean–a smile of utter contentment and pleasure, closed his eyes and slept on.
Sean went to the door, peaked out and carefully padded down the corridor. Just as he opened the firedoor to descend, Peter’s door opened. He was dressed for his daily early morning gym work out. Sean had quickly slipped through but Peter spotted the back of the redhead as the door closed behind him. “Was that Sean? Where had he been all night?” Of course, he realized there were more than 50 rooms on the sixth floor. It could have been any of them. He didn’t suspect his step-son, the weak little boy. But, now he knew Sean was a whore.
Sean dragged into his dorm, showered and dressed. (Only later in the day, did he find the note in the pocket of his “civvie” linen pants: “Again please. How about Saturday, same time, same place?” Then he noticed the hundreds–he same that Peter had given him. He wondered if that was the going rate. Or whether Peter and JJ had talked. So it was a rent-boi hook after all, he thought. He frowned. Several guys noticed and kidded him about “overnights” before work days. “Don’t look to us to take up the slack today because you were out catting all night. Is she a guest–or a townie?”
“I don’t kiss–or fuck–and tell, blokes. Put your tongues back in your mouths. Let’s go to work. We’re not even half way through the summer.”
********
JJ didn’t show for breakfast. He had left a message for his mother that he wasn’t feeling well. She threatened to call the hotel doctor, but he asked her to wait until later in the day. He was sure it was nothing. Sean noticed that Peter was unusually interested in the back of his head. Did he have a hickey? Was something else awry? After the breakfast service, Sean returned to the dorm and slept for nearly all the time between the two services. At least lunch today was buffet–so his responsibilities were easier and he could coast. Of course, he realized that Peter was expecting him after 3. JJ was at lunch. Mary Louise watched him carefully, until she was satisfied that he had recovered. Then she took over the conversation and began pontificating about corrupt Boston politicians.
Sean was unaware of how long each guest might stay at the Lodge. But Mary Louise’s comments made it clear that she expected to stay until mid-August, a total of about six weeks, with several two day returns to Boston for medical appointments. Peter needed to leave the following week–for business meetings, but would then return. JJ and his sister were planning to stay on until mid-August, when they needed to get to Boston, JJ to prepare for the next school year. So Sean now knew their schedule–although he wasn’t sure of the implications for him (except of course for that afternoon with Peter and possibly Saturday night with JJ).
After lunch, he walked back to the dorm with one of his few friends–a fellow Irishman from Cork who had worked at the Lodge for three years and thus was a veteran. He started the conversation carefully. “Do you have any idea how many staff have sex with guests?”
“Probably many, but I really don’t know.”
“Do guests usually tip when it happens?”
“Again, I really don’t know, but I assume so. Why, have you received an invitation?”
“I was just wondering. It doesn’t seem that we’re doing very well with mealtime tips. I’m not going to make as much as I thought when I took the job.”
“Guests tend to be long term–and they tend to tip near the end of their stays. I’ve heard that some tips are for services outside the dining room. And the number I’ve heard most often is a hundred dollars–but that may be old news. Be careful, Sean. Even though management tends to look the other way with staff engaging with guests, if the guest complains, the staff member gets canned. If you think it’s a one-time thing, that’s probably okay. But, don’t get involved. You’re going home in six weeks. There is no future. And if the guest begins to think she’s got you and you cross her, you could lose your job and your share of the tip pool. I hope she’s worth it.”
“Thanks, Kyle. But saying no in the first place carries just as much risk. We poor Irish boys don’t stand a chance of working this system.”
“Good luck. I guess in this instance I’m happy that I don’t have the sex appeal you have. No one bothers to hit on me. I’m too ugly. Our Irish ancestors have been taking it in the ass from these New England Brahmans for generations. We aren’t going to change it in a summer.”
Sean snickered to himself. Little did Kyle realize how accurate his observation was: Sean was taking it in the ass from two different New England Brahmans! And they were paying for the privilege. But, now he had to be careful that the situation did not blow up in his face.
A little over an hour later, he was at Peter’s door. Once again Mary Louise was at bridge and then would go to tea. “In the bedroom now. Strip and spread eagle on the bed, belly down.” Peter seemed disturbed, and Sean assumed he was in for a punishing encounter.
“Just keep in mind that I need to work in less than two hours.”
“Do as you’re told, slut. I need to dump some aggression. I lost at tennis this morning. I still haven’t healed this damn shoulder. Mary Ellen was a bitch. She thinks I’ve got a chambermaid on the side. And I’m assuming you are doing this with others as well. I’m pretty sure I saw you sneaking out of the Lodge early yesterday morning.”
It seemed that Peter was pissed that his assignations were limited to an hour or so because of Mary Ellen–and he was jealous that some other guest had had me for the night. It didn’t seem that he and JJ were talking. Sean decided not to deny–in fact not to speak at all. He couldn’t win.
Peter dropped his robe, but took the tie, fastened a few knots in the end and began to stroke Sean across his cheeks. The first few were light and sexy. Then Peter got into it and snapped him a few more times, reddening the flesh and leaving some marks. Sean took it all stoically. Then Peter climbed on, slapped Sean’s legs farther apart, knelt behind him, lubed his wrapped cock, but not Sean, and without further prep, harshly pulled Sean into his lap, impaling him to the hilt in one stroke. Sean gasped and teared up. And Peter smiled and fisted and squeezed Sean’s hard cock, holding Sean in place with this “handle”. A few strokes later, Peter exploded–without warning, without any attempt to bring Sean along with him, and without further words. He rose and threw Sean’s shorts on the bed. This was going to be a quick one set aced match.
“I’m leaving tomorrow. You’re a good lay, Sean, but really nothing special. Maybe I’ll teach you some tricks when I return. Now get that tight little cunt out of here. And try not to catch an STD from other guests while I’m away. Keep that pussy clean and tight for me.”
Sean dressed and returned to the dorm with just enough time to shower and dress for the dinner service. But this time, he found only a hundred in the pocket. Peter apparently thought he was entitled to a 50% discount for a ten minute cum dump with one of the the Lodge’s sluts. Or maybe that was a farewell fuck. Sean began to wonder how he would handle the future if Peter asked him again.
Peter left the next day–Saturday, and Sean realized he had a rare Sunday off coming up. He had planned to go into the small town south of the Lodge, but decided not to make any plans until after his next session with JJ later that night.
Saturday was a long hard day. It was a day of transition–guests leaving, guests arriving–and mealtimes, particularly lunch were really hectic with the increased demand. He had barely an hour between the two shifts–which he used to take a short nap before dressing for dinner service.
Peter was absent from the table, but Mary Louise had filed the empty chair with a friend, Liam, from another Boston family. He seemed to be in his late twenties. He was clearly a “black Irishman” with dark shaggy hair, a ruddy complexion, a sullen, threatening mouth, and dark brown, almost black eyes. He was very attractive in a rough sense and spoke with a thicker brogue than Sean’s. Sean pegged him as associated with the Free Ireland movement, maybe even Sein Fein, both known for violence–and both quietly supported by Boston’s nouveau Irish wealth. Mary Louise seemed almost relieved that Peter was away. She was joking, smiling, frequently placing her hand on Liam’s arm. Was he hers or being groomed for Mary Ellen? On second thought, Sean concluded that it was the mother who had re-filled their table. She had a boi-toy. But he didn’t look like a boy–he was a big, threatening man, projecting danger, and, perhaps to Mary Louise, excitement. Was he the new big-dicked gigilo? He certainly didn’t seem at all interested in Sean. Meanwhile, JJ seemed to ignore most of it, although his eyes never left Sean when he was within a line of sight.
They all lingered that night until well past the beginning of the show. Obviously, they had other plans. Soon however they left–but as he was clearing, Sean noticed that Mary Louise had left several hundred under her plate. This was, after all, the center point of their holiday. So maybe she felt she had to keep Sean on his toes for the rest of the trip–so a nice tip half way through might do the trick. Or maybe she was anticipating an exciting night in bed with Liam. He did look like he might give her a good ride. JJ and Mary Ellen left together in conversation, perhaps embarrassed by their mother’s obviousness. The boy was about half her age.
Less than an hour later, Sean tapped on JJ’s door. It was opened and Sean stepped in. JJ was in a robe–identical in fact to the one Peter had worn. “I’m told tomorrow is your day off. I want an encore of our last time together. Except this time, you won’t be leaving me at the altar,” JJ joked.
“Take those clothes off. Your beer is on the dresser.” Sean untied JJ’s robe and reached around to take him into a hard embrace and a deep kiss. Minutes later when he released, JJ was breathless and already hard as steel. Sean stepped back, unbuckled and dropped his slacks. Then he easily pulled the buttoned shirt over his head without unbuttoning. JJ smiled. “In person is absolutely better than in imagination. I’ve jerked off thinking about you for two days. My hand–and my dick–are raw.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I planned to make use of both tonight.”
“Fortunately, just a figure of speech.” Then JJ fell to his knees and drew Sean into his mouth, taking more than half. He sucked hard and Sean began to pump his hips as JJ’s fingers found his crevice and invaded to guide his face-fucking motions.
“Is this how you want to start? If so, let’s do it together. Lie on the bed so I can play too.” JJ moved to the bed and Sean stretched beside him. Soon both were sucking. It was a contest. Who could make the other cum first. Sean sucked hard, deep-throated all of JJ’s smaller dick and shot his index finger into JJ’s asshole. It really wasn’t a contest. JJ was too worked up already. He bucked violently, and then shot and shot into Sean–while Sean swallowed the salty-sweet taffy of a New England blueblood. Even his spunk was delicious! Then he too gushed into JJ. JJ swallowed and licked his lips. Then he reversed in the bed, pushed Sean up into the mountain of pillows, and sat on his lap (duplicating the famous Rodin Kiss position) and the mouths of the two began to exchange fluids as Sean caressed JJ’s back muscles. It seemed like JJ was setting this up for a conversation. Sean wondered and waited.
“I need to tell you a little about my family. Mary Louise is of course my mother and Mary Ellen is my sister. About a year after Mary Ellen was born, while mother was very pregnant with me, Father was driving home after taking her to a friend’s birthday party. It was raining hard–a rain that had turned to sleet and freezing rain. There was an accident. Father was killed. Mary Ellen had brain injuries–and has never recovered. You probably notice that she participates very little in our conversations. She is really a semi-mute doll with little intelligence that my mother and a nurse care for 24/7. I love her, but she barely knows who we are. Besides there have been many changes since then. Mother was deeply in love with my father. She mourned, but she was young and deeply involved in Boston’s Irish society.”
“Mother married again–about two years later–and all of us took Jacob McGrath’s name. I think Mother was in love with him, but he resented that she already had had children, one clearly challenged mentally, by another man. Apparently, he couldn’t deliver–or perhaps they were incompatible in bed. We were pretty much raised by nannies as he demanded Mother travel with him to his various properties. He died about four years ago from a heart attack. Mother has tried to run the business since then, but he had hired well during his lifetime. She expects me to step into that position when I graduate from BC in two years.”
“Peter came along a few years ago. He was a ranked international tennis star. But, he had a freak accident that impacted his right shoulder. He has never completely recovered. He dropped out of contention and became a tennis pro and Mother was one of his students. After an elaborately negotiated pre-nup, they married quietly. He is in no way my father. He sees me, if anything, as a rival or a nuisance. He knows I’ll become his boss if he is still around when I graduate. He ignores Mary Ellen. I know he has sex on the side–with younger men and women. He’s tried to fuck me several times after he’s had a few. Once, he was almost in when Mother arrived home unexpectedly from a shopping trip. Talk about ‘coitus interruptus’!”
“So you see, we are a screwed up family. I haven’t experienced love or affection–ever. I never met my real father–and the next two never really treated me like a son.
I really enjoyed last Thursday. I am not naïve. I know that one night of glorious sex with all the bells and whistles of kissing, stroking, caressing–and even sleeping in each other’s arms is not love. But it’s the closest I’ve come to it. That night was as close to real happiness that I have experienced in my life. I think I’m in “puppy love” with you, Sean. At least I’m in lust. I can’t offer you a future with me. I can’t really even afford your customary charges for these nights. But, if you’ll be with me as much as you can for the next month until we leave, I’ll make sure that you are rewarded. I’m not sure how yet. But, I can do it. I know I can.”
Sean was silent for a few minutes. He renewed his possession of JJ’s mouth and began to stroke his cock into erection, almost absentmindedly–like a baby with a pacifier. “JJ, that was a touching story. Let me say just a few things. You are not a loser because you are starved for love. You are a beautiful young man, inside and outside. You are a really fine lover. And, I don’t give a damn about a reward. In fact, the whole idea of sex-for-pay disgusts me. I’m not going to lie to you. I need money for Trinity next year. But, it doesn’t define me. I would be pleased to get to know–and love you–over the next month. Then, I think it’s going to be my problem–I’m not going to want to let you go. But we’ll cross that bridge when we reach it.”
“Now shut up and fuck me. Show me what you’ve got. We’ve only got 8 or so more hours.” Sean slid down on the bed, pulling JJ on top. JJ smiled and began to squeeze Sean’s nipples between his lips. Sean hissed into JJ’s hair and began the massage of JJ’s cute little ass, pushing his fingers into the crevice, heading for the Promised Land.
JJ knelt between Sean’s outstretched legs and bent down to prepare his partner, first with his wet, hot lips and then with his long aristocratic fingers. Sean rolled his legs up and grabbed behind his knees. JJ lubed and pointed his hooded dick. He rolled down the hood and pushed. He slipped right in and hit the love nut on the first try. The rolled hood was a very nice stimulus. Sean cried out, “Yes, there, do it again.” And of course JJ did as he had been taught. He obeyed. He was so excited. This was his first missionary fuck. His first bareback fuck on top. And Sean was so beautiful. He stroked and stroked; then he released Sean’s legs which wrapped tightly around him and pressed him closer. Suddenly, Sean’s sexy eyes went wide and his cock began to leak a milky white fluid. JJ was milking his prostate–and Sean was headed for a full body anal orgasm of cosmic proportions.
“JJ, I’m cuming really big time. Please be with me.”
JJ strained, sucked in his abs, drew up his balls, and fired. And it had such force, that Sean tipped into a massive orgasm–and no one had touched his dick. It lasted for what seemed like forever. They were covered in spunk. The room reeked of sex. And they loved it, squirming around on each other, like the proverbial pigs in a mud-sty.
JJ rolled off and Sean scooped him into a tight spoon, taking possession of his shrinking cock. “This is mine, babe. I’ll fight Pete for it if I must.” Both fell into a relaxing cuddle, JJ shivering in the comfort of Sean’s body.
Later they rose, washed up and, sitting on the room’s comfortable sofa, drank a shared bottle of Guinness stout. “My favorite.”
“I guessed as much.”
Sean put the empty bottle down and pulled JJ into him, noticing that they were both chubbing. “Are you ready for another round?”
“Yeah, absolutely. But this time, you get to top. I want this monster to destroy my ass.”
Sean lifted JJ easily and placed him on the large king bed. “On your knees, babe. Daddy’s going to show you how a real man takes his boy.” JJ was ready to submit. He wanted to be owned by Sean’s impressively large cock. He knelt on the bed, cradled his head with his arms, and lifted his ass in offering. Sean knelt behind him, pushed his legs apart, grabbed his balls and pulled down, forcing JJ to lift higher. Then he easily bent forward and started the tongue attack on the target. It was bright pink, shaved and throbbing. Sean’s tongue swept the rim, curled and entered. JJ moaned in pleasure. After a few minutes of this treatment, Sean released the balls and lubed his fingers to begin the opening and to touch the pleasure nut just inside. JJ raised his ass to meet the intrusion. He was moving higher on the pleasure arc. His cock became rock hard; the hood rolled back naturally; and, he began to leak. Sean reached around and used the fluid to massage the shaft, finishing at the head. JJ jolted. The uncovered head was the most sensitive part of his body.
“I want to cum with you. Put it in now. I’m ready.”
So, Sean lubed, positioned and pushed. He slid in easily. He was big, but JJ was definitely ready. He stroked a few times. Then, he felt JJ drawing in and about to pop. So he reached under, pressed hard on the taint and ringed the base of the shaft while his own cock froze in its deepest penetration. JJ went wild. “You’re killing me! I’ve gotta cum. Please!” The maneuver worked. JJ calmed a bit, but remained rigidly hard. He would “live” to rise again.
Sean released the shaft and used his hands to pull JJ back into his chest. Then, he stroked JJ’s sensitive tits, concentrating on now-erect nipples. JJ turned his head to the side and Sean took his lips, bringing his hand to JJ’s long thin throat. JJ was reaching the pinnacle once again. JJ dropped down into Sean’s lap and Sean penetrated deeply. This was the trigger. Sean felt it–and immediately stroked the shaft hard to hasten the ejaculation, and heighten the pleasure of JJ’s release. “Now. Give it to me. I want to catch that spunk in my fist.” JJ automatically contracted his anal muscles as he exploded. Sean felt a tightness and an inner massage that brought him to the bitter edge. Sean pushed JJ forward and pressed hard into his ass as he deposited his spunk deeply into JJ’s gut.
JJ wanted to be owned. The seed deposit was step one. Then, Sean stretched out fully over JJ. His hands were still tightly holding JJ’s shaft and balls–and a large load of cum. There could be no question who owned them. Sean’s legs were now cocooning JJ’s lower body. Sean’s face was buried in JJ’s neck, nipping and branding. JJ was entirely beneath him, utterly his. They remained like this for minutes–as Sean’s swimmers found their targets deep inside JJ. This was possession. This was ownership. But, this was also a demonstration of care–and love. Sean had taken pleasure. Sean had taken control. But JJ too had felt the pleasure–and he liked being under control–if the master was Sean. JJ would be happy to remain like this forever. He was bred and branded.
Ultimately, Sean rolled aside, but once again pulled JJ into a spoon. JJ needed to be held, needed to feel love, needed to feel safe in the arms of a man, particularly after he had submitted and been taken so completely. JJ, at that moment, didn’t know who he was, but he did know he was Sean’s. Sean had instinctively felt this. It is said that Irish lovers read the auras of their partners and give them what is needed–even if not consciously understood. JJ turned and faced Sean. There were tears in his eyes. Then he reached in and took Sean’s mouth in his and settled into Sean’s warm, hard body. Sean reached around and taking hold of JJ’s cheeks, pulled him hard into his pocket. Both guys were soon asleep, clutching each other tightly.
********
They were approaching one of Sean’s most precious days during the summer–one of his six days off. They awakened early on Sunday, and once again JJ drained Sean, this time by riding his cock as Sean bucked in sensitivity to JJ’s first-thing-in-the-morning onslaught. Sean showered and left to return to the dorm to prepare for his day–JJ needed to appear at the “family” breakfast table, or invite inquiry from his Mother. He needn’t have bothered. He sat alone with Mary Ellen–Mother had decided to take breakfast in her room, most likely still in bed with her young lover who had doubtless spent the night since Peter would be away for the week.
JJ decided to walk on the dangerous side. He left a note for his mother and left with his sister on a “shopping and lunch” expedition to Grenville, the nearest town. What he didn’t say was that he was inviting Sean–and he intended to spend a great deal on himself, his sister–and Sean.
The shopping trip was a success and the plastic was red hot when they returned. Mary Ellen asked no questions about Sean. She really didn’t know what to ask. Sweaters, tees, jeans, sneakers, a jacket, sweats, two new frocks, sexy underwear for all were all contained in bulging shopping bags when they stopped for lunch at a rustic inn which was known to serve unique and wonderful soups and sandwiches. JJ felt much better. He had spent way more than a thousand on Sean. Sean, on the other hand, while grateful, wasn’t so sure he liked the “kept boy” feeling. Mary Ellen was already smiling and fingering the soft fabrics of her new dresses.
Mother appeared for dinner. Liam had apparently been banished–or maybe he was totally spent after 20 hours with the cougar. So there were only three. She was radiant (probably because she had been fucked to satiety by the virile young tiger) and delighted that JJ had treated Mary Ellen to a rare outing (allowing her to extend her tryst well into the afternoon). She was so pleased that she freed JJ from the performance “duty” and accompanied Mary Ellen herself to the slapstick comedian/magician who was on the bill that night.
So JJ was ready when Sean tapped just before 10. Sean was wearing the new duds. JJ thought him sexy as hell, even dressed. And he noted that Sean had brought a duffel with the breakfast service uniform. He was planning to spend the night! JJ pulled him into the room. “There was no reason to dress for me!”
“Thanks for the day, JJ. The clothing is wonderful. But, I really can’t be caught nude in the corridors of the Lodge!”
JJ attacked. Sean’s belt and shorts were gone in a flash. His new shirt was almost torn in the frenzy. JJ dropped to his knees, and grabbing Sean’s ass cheeks with gusto, he pulled Sean in. He then used all the suction he possessed to harden Sean while he teased the tip with his tongue. Sean finally pushed him away. “Oh no, babe, I want that ass and I want it now.” Sean pulled off, stripped JJ and threw him onto the bed. JJ smiled as Sean lifted his legs, placing the calves on his shoulders. He wanted missionary. But, first he wanted to taste the feast that was before him. He rolled JJ back and slipped a pillow under his lower back. And he dove in. He spread the cheeks with his talented fingers and his tongue shot into the pink opening.
JJ nearly fainted with the pleasure. He was already so high–having been thinking about Sean all day. Soon JJ reached under the pillow and handed Sean the lube. He spread it on and in and subtly maneuvered Sean to the edge of the bed where his opening was pointed up and at Sean. Sean could stand and, with that leverage, he positioned and entered. JJ gasped and moaned, and his arms thrashed on the mattress as Sean bottomed, being sure to scrape JJ all the way in. Sean leaned forward, placed his arms stiff on the bed and began to do pushups into JJ as his body slowly stiffened to maximize penetration. JJ was nearly vertical from shoulder to hip and his penis pointed directly at his face. Sean saw the cock stretch, then change to an angry red with bulging blue veins. Then he felt the anal contractions. He couldn’t hold it any longer. He exploded down into the deep cavity–while JJ covered his own face with his own cum. Slowly the tension relaxed, JJ looped his legs around Sean’s waist and his arms around Sean’s neck, and Sean dropped into his lover. He began to lick the cum from JJ’s face, alternating with tongue thrusts into JJ’s mouth. They were sharing essence. Finally, he lifted JJ and he transported the two of them to the center of the bed. Sean pulled JJ on top and JJ nestled right in and his eyes closed.
Before long, the alarm sounded. Sean needed to shower and change.
As he was opening the door to leave, JJ rose from the bed sleepily, “Tonight we must talk. I think Peter is returning tomorrow–a few days earlier than expected. I think he suspects something, and he’s going to be alert to any change. He knows Mary Louise plays when he’s gone. The fact that he does too means nothing to him. He’ll be angry–and he’ll take it out on all of us. I wouldn’t want to be his chambermaid tomorrow.”
The day was uneventful and Sean went immediately to JJ’s room after meal service ended. They embraced immediately. But, when Sean started to undress, JJ stopped him. “We do need to talk first.”
“I haven’t told you everything. I didn’t want to risk losing you. You already know that our family is pretty screwed up. I learned at dinner tonight that Peter has given Mother an ultimatum: institutionalize Mary Ellen or he is not going to return. I think he’s overplayed his hand. Mother will never willingly part with Mary Ellen. Mother is already enjoying a younger guy, apparently with a lot less baggage. Peter thinks he is invaluable to McGrath. But Mother had the surprise announcement: she has received an offer through her solicitor to sell the company to our larger competitor. It’s apparently a good offer, and she plans to accept. She hasn’t told Peter that she was even considering a sale. I’m assuming that after the sale, Peter is toast. He will understand that tomorrow when she makes the announcements. And, I presume our attorneys have negotiated an excellent pre-nup. He’s going to be a maniac.”
“And then there is one more thing. For the last two years, Peter has been screwing me. Actually, not always screwing. Just forcing me to my knees so that he can dump a load in my mouth or face. Not often, but enough, perhaps every other month. It’s always been rough and it’s generally when he’s high. Lately, he’s been getting more and more violent. Whenever Mother does something that angers him, he’s soon in my room punishing me. He told me that if I went to Mother, he would blame it on me–saying that I seduced him. I didn’t think she would take his side, but I wasn’t sure. She knows that I’ve had some gay experiences, and she is not pleased. Now, however, with a decision to sell the company, I’m not needed to run it–and Peter has no leverage by staying around until I’m old enough to do so. I know he’s been telling Mother that I don’t have the stuff anyway.”
“Peter is violent–and unpredictable. He probably will accuse me of all sorts of horrible things–including seducing him. Then, later, he could well take it out on me. So, I’ve told Mother that I want to return to Boston immediately. I didn’t say why–except to suggest that there were a few things I wanted to discuss with the Dean at BC which couldn’t wait. I’m leaving Tuesday–timing my departure so I’m not exposed to Peter here any more than necessary. I don’t want to be near him.”
“Oh, JJ. I can’t believe that you must put up with all of this. Is there anything I can do?”
“I don’t think there is anything. Spend tonight with me. Then we’ll have to see what happens next. It’s been a good week. I consider you to be a friend, and I’m falling for you.”
“You know I can’t leave the Lodge. I would lose everything I’ve worked for so far. And, they’d revoke my guest worker visa immediately. I don’t have enough saved to buy a ticket home–other than the one I already have on August 31. I’d do anything for you JJ, but we barely know each other. But, at any rate, I’m really helpless. Of course, I’ll spend the night. And, I’m sure that Peter will leave so you can come back.”
The confrontation the next day did occur and it was worse than JJ had anticipated. He wasn’t able to get away before Peter arrived at the Lodge–Peter had called for the limo to bring him back. Dinner was a disaster. Peter didn’t show. Apparently he and Mary Louise had “talked” upon his return. He accused her of adultery–again and specifically named you, Sean as the bed-partner. He had apparently seen someone he thought was you leaving the Lodge a few days ago in the early morning. She denied having even touched you and then screamed that she had had enough. The marriage was over. He should leave. She explained that JJ was using the limo to return to Boston in the morning, so he could find his own way back. He agreed that he would leave in the morning. He told her he would accompany JJ back to Boston. He needed to consult with his lawyers. She exploded. Don’t go near JJ. Get your own transportation. Peter was really angry when he left the suite. He knocked on JJ’s door, but JJ didn’t answer, he knew what was likely–and had carefully used all the locks.
Then, he went down to the GM of the Lodge and filed a formal complaint against Sean. He accused Sean of coming on to his wife and with having sexual relations with her in his absence and also with Mary Ellen, whose mental condition rendered her a minor, despite her age. Apparently, he didn’t know about Liam. Sean was called to the hotel office, but he didn’t return to the dormitory all night–he was with JJ.
Sean and JJ had another wonderful night. JJ described the afternoon and reluctantly confirmed that he was leaving in the morning. Mother had given him the limo and driver to return to Boston. So, Sean cuddled. Sean coddled. Sean caressed and relieved JJ of tension with massages, stroking, and orgasms. Finally, toward morning, JJ asked for a farewell fuck. “I’ll make love to you babe. But, I won’t fuck you. And this will not be our last.” Sean was tender, compassionate, and sensuous as he entered the tense body of his lover. Sean too was tense, but connecting with JJ relaxed him–except of course for his rampant cock which was straining for release. Sean stroked slowly, drawing out his climax and coaxing JJ to a simultaneous orgasm. The edging went on and on. Both guys relished in the comfort of their intertwined bodies. JJ relaxed a bit, then rose to the intense sensuality of being made love to by a lover. He enjoyed the ride enormously, shot off again, and pushed back into Sean’s spoon after Sean left his seed in JJ. Sean was now part of him.
The next morning Sean was told when he reported for breakfast service that the GM wanted to see him–immediately. When Sean arrived, he was dismissed without discussion: a guest had complained about his sexual “peccadilloes” with his wife and daughter; guests were always right; he needed to leave. He tried to protest his innocence–and even suggested that another guest would stand for him. He had never touched Mary Louise or Mary Ellen. He hadn’t even been in their rooms. The GM had feared that Peter was fabricating. He wasn’t a model guest and his violent accusations the previous evening had been almost unbelievable, but he couldn’t afford to cross him. And he certainly didn’t want a family feud, with allegations of rape of an incompetent daughter played out before the hotel which was completely full, almost all by regular, very conservative, guests. Sean had to go and quickly and quietly. But, in an unusual move, Sean was given two weeks’ severance and a ticket home–but not his share of the tip pool. Sean was to be off the property by noon. He packed, called a cab, and later called JJ from the bus station. He explained briefly the dismissal and announced his plans to find a cheap hotel near Logan and book passage home as soon as possible. The next bus would leave in about an hour.
JJ was upset–even more than he had been after the last evening. JJ briefly described the family situation. Then, he told Sean that he was about to leave the Lodge. The Boston townhouse had been secured–locks changed, staff and security force alerted. Mary Louise had asked him to stay at the townhouse until she could wind things up and return home. Peter was not be given admission at any time or under any circumstances. She was getting a restraining order. It should be issued today. JJ was told to have the servants pack all of Peter’s things for the move to wherever. Finally, JJ told Sean that he was on the way to the bus station. Sean could accompany JJ back to Boston, and then presumably to Logan.
During the ride, they held each other, kissed, embraced, and then slept. As they approached the city in the early afternoon, JJ invited Sean to join him in Boston. “We’ll head to the house, but then I need to leave you for most of the afternoon. You don’t need a hotel. We can talk later.”
Hours later in the dining room, Sean found a smiling and relaxed JJ–a strong contrast to his own concern. “Sean, I think I have resolved some things. I’m hoping you will agree. I’m also hoping you’ll be pleased.”
JJ had spent the afternoon with the Dean of BC. It seemed that BC had a regular “year abroad” arrangement with Trinity College, Dublin. JJ had indicated that he “needed” to transfer into that program. He was escaping family discord, but could also concentrate on his major–modern European history. Recognizing the importance of the McGrath family’s contributions to BC, and although such arrangements were typically made months before, the Dean had quickly made inquiries, pulled some strings, and effectuated the program transfer. JJ could matriculate at BC at Trinity the first week of September.
Then, smiling from ear to ear, JJ continued. “There is something else. When my step-dad died, his will provided that for so long as McGrath Enterprises remained in the family, Mother would make the decisions until my graduation when I would move into leadership. If she decided to sell, she needed my permission. I gave that to her. But the will went on to say that upon sale, one-third would go to mother for her lifetime, one-third for the care of Mary Ellen and one-third to me on my 21st birthday–which was two months ago. I’m a wealthy boy, Sean.”
“I’m required to live in the BC apartments at Trinity. But, I convinced the Dean that I needed a large apartment–that is what I’ve been accustomed to–and that I wanted it all for myself. I implied that I was probably going to bring along a valet. He has agreed. Fortunately, they have plenty of space and I can easily afford it. You have a place to stay next semester.”
“So we can be together next fall–if you want. Meanwhile, Mother has decided to stay at the Lodge with Mary Ellen until things settle down. We’ve got this place–and Boston–and each other–to explore for a few weeks–again, if you want. Then, we can see how we manage next year. I hope I didn’t assume too much.”
Sean just smiled, got up from the table, cradled JJ like a bride being carried over the threshold, drew their lips together, and started walking toward JJ’s bedroom. BD