A gay story: South African Safari Sequel Ch. 07 South African Safari Sequel Ch 07
Paul finishes his time in South Africa and returns to Miami
This story is entirely original and fictional. South African Safari was published on Literotica several months ago. There were requests for more chapters. (It took some time to edit and publish 06–so the comment at the end that it would be a month for 07 was a lie. This is really two chapters. So it’s a little long. Sorry) I continue to examine the adventures and regrets of Paul Goodfield, a neurotic survivor of abuse who alternates between one night stands and longer term more complex relationships. All characters engaged in sexual activity are over 18. No AI was used in the production of this story. © 2024, All rights reserved. Brunosden
(Paul Goodfield’s narration and self-analysis continue:)
The return flight was even longer than the flight over. On the return, I went via London and straight into Miami–since the connections were very good. The first part was overnight with a late departure, and I slept most of the way. The last two days in Durban had been intense. Then the second part was in the daytime, and given my absence from Miami for a few weeks and the completion of the business plan in Durban, I had little work to occupy my time. The movies were terrible, and how much can you sleep after a relaxing two week holiday? I only wished that the 787s had gyms which would be an amenity worth paying for.
I started by doing one last read through of the business plan. I was convinced that I had done everything I could to set the venture on a path to success. In a few weeks if Ron struck out with investors and bankers in South Africa, I would attempt to fill the gaps with GFA contacts. I was confident enough of the success, that I was ready to put personal investment capital in–but I really didn’t have much yet. My family had held on to the capital very tightly. It would be years before I had investment authority over those funds.
So I set the plan aside, thinking, “I’m not going to obsess over this. This is really not my project. I’m going to let Ron run with it for a couple of weeks. I hope he succeeds.”
So that left another 8 hours to think about my life. I of course realized that I had spent two weeks enjoying Africa, with Ron, and on the next to last night, Ollie. While I had thought about Breck a bit during the first few days, and we had kept in touch with txts and emails, I was essentially going to be starting again with Breck–remembering the best that had had together, but with a lot of emotional baggage. I had used Ron again to bolster my ego. And Ollie had certainly used me! Ron had convinced me that I wasn’t a natural sub, although I really enjoyed being a roughly handled bottom. Certainly it wasn’t clear with Ron, it had been with Ollie.
I was going to be arriving in Miami on a Saturday, in mid October, with a day to recover from jet lag, before diving into the year-end frenzy of any financial advisory firm. We needed to “clean up” client accounts before the magic year-end reports were prepared, the reports which boasted, if possible, that GFA had grown our clients’ capital accounts by way more than “the averages.” And, we had to insure that the clients did not receive unpleasant tax surprises when the Federal reporting forms issued in February. It seemed that every client wanted unlimited returns AND prodigious tax losses. Of course, that was impossible. But we always did our best and present the results in the best possible light. To some it might sound tedious, even deceptive. But to me (and us), it was exciting to be in the game of outsmarting the market. And to be doing it in Miami, and South Beach, the capital of young people on the prowl for excitement, success and sex! I was looking forward to my time at MiamiBods. And I was certainly looking forward to resuming my adventures with Breck.
Breck had indicated in his last email that things were coming under control in Charlotte–and he was hoping to return to Miami by Wednesday. He seemed to be assuming we’d pick up where we left off. So I would have three or four days to rationalize what had happened in Africa and what I wanted to continue in Miami. Breck had expressed impatience with returning to Miami–and me. He couldn’t wait to take the next steps in our relationship.
Of course, I now realized that I had resumed a relationship with Ron. We were not just hooks or friends with benefits. We were lovers. We were invested in each other. Ron had effectively asked me to make our relationship permanent–and had offered me half his life if I had stayed. I realized that I really loved Ron–but maybe as someone who had saved my life, who was helping me to wholeness–but not as a lifelong partner. And probably not in the bush of Africa. Well, to be true, the sex was pretty amazing. And then in the next few minutes Il would begin to dream about a life with Ron in Africa–the simplicity, the natural beauty, the sheer wholesomeness. It would probably bore me to death.
It was also true that Ron was turning into a Daddy. Was that so bad? Maybe I needed a Daddy–at least one who was as indulgent as Ron. I thought back and realized that I had done almost all of the fucking–except when I demanded that Ron take me–on a bush blanket or a Rover fender. So Ron wasn’t going to drift into a dom role. He had been careful with me–even when I was his guest, not his client at the safari lodge. He respected my experience in finance and innate creative business sense. And there was no question. I had seen the love and desire in Ron’s eyes, many times in fact. I could build a life with Ron. I could be confident, independent–and I could add value to our relationship. But it might be stifling.
And then there was Ollie. Just thinking about Ollie made me hard. So hard, they I moved the throw over my lap and glanced around the cabin to see if anyone might be eyeing me. I was wearing light weight sweats (really PJ bottoms) and they concealed nothing. Ollie had given me the single most exciting sex of my entire life. Ollie was danger. Ollie was lust. Ollie was, well, he was just Ollie. If I had decided to take up with Ron, what role might Ollie play? He was clearly going to be the chief ranger at the ranch. He’d be around every day.
He had apparently even taken Ron at some time in the past. He might even be some kind of tribal chieftain, or the offspring of one. Did he have a real power in that area northeast of Durban? Any operation like Ron was planning would be dependent on the cooperation and good will of the locals–and maybe Ollie controlled or at least influenced that. Was there any way that Ollie wouldn’t be part of the equation if I were to decide to go to Africa? And how about Russ? I wondered how Ron had moved so quickly on Russ after he learned I was not planning to stay. Was he using me? No, it was totally out of character. And then I thought, “What kind of character reader are you, Paul? First Billy. Then so many others.”
I decided to put all of this aside. So I flipped on the TV and searched for a comedy, ending up with a Robin Williams oldie. That at least kept me entertained for nearly two hours. Robin was complex, but everything always worked out for him. In many ways, I was as hyper as Robin. Maybe things would work out for me too.
I changed planes efficiently in London. I updated emails at Heathrow–and Breck had confirmed he would be back in Miami by COB Wednesday. I sent him a quick “changing planes, welcome back, can’t wait to see you” response and boarded for the final leg, finally reaching Miami on Saturday afternoon. But, as was typical in October, we were delayed about a half hour due to the ever-present late afternoon thunderstorms. As I walked out of the customs area, I was surprised: Dad had come to the airport to welcome me home.
“Is something wrong, Dad?”
“Is it necessary for something to be wrong for a Dad to want to see his son?”
“That wasn’t an answer.”
“Well, there is nothing wrong–at least nothing unusually wrong. Your grandparents’ health continues to fade. I’m guessing my Dad will leave GFA after this year. And your Mom is still concerned that her favorite boy is alone. She is searching for someone for you.”
“I’m not alone, Dad. I just spent two wonderful weeks in the wilds of Africa with a guy I really like. I think we’d be a couple if he were here, but I just am not ready to give up my job, my family, my life here in Miami–as much as I’ve come to love the bush–and if the truth be known, to love Ron.”
“Is there any chance he might consider moving here? I’m sure we could find him something.”
“He won’t leave. His Dad left him a large ranch which he’s turning into a rare game breeding farm and a tourist attraction. He’s got friends. He’s got a focus for which he’s trained most of his life. I couldn’t ask him to move here. He’d be miserable, and it simply wouldn’t work. I think it’s just one of those things. It’s not going to work for us. I wouldn’t be happy there. He wouldn’t be here.”
I realized a I spoke those words that what I was telling Dad is precisely what I’ve been telling myself for weeks. I need to get over him. And I guess it was time to start doing that.
“I’ve met a guy here. He’s a systems consolidator in the health field. He’s got his own company, and they are hoping to go public soon. He’s living in Bal Harbour at his uncle’s place, but he’s probably going to move to Miami permanently if the trial installation at UHealth Miami works. He’s been up in Charlotte troubleshooting another installation, but he’ll be back on Wednesday. I’m going to try to pick up where we left off a few weeks ago–if he’s willing.”
“I’m guessing he’ll be willing. I can see what’s in your eyes. They light up when you talk about him. And who wouldn’t be attracted to someone like you? You’re special Paul, in so so many ways. What’s his name?”
“Breck Lodge. He’s from Boston, graduate of MIT. He’s my age, and he’s really good looking: tall, blond, blue-eyed, muscled, a hunk and, yeah, he’s hung. Oh. He’s goy–about as goy as any guy in America could possibly be.”
“I’m glad you told me, Paul–although the details about his reproductive equipment are maybe a little too much information for me right now. After she gets over the shock that you’ve picked a goy for a partner, all your mother will want to know is whether you’re going to have children. I’m guessing that’s not a problem for either of you. We love you and would do anything to see you happy. Mom on the other hand…..Hmmm. You said Lodge? I think I got a preliminary prospectus for Lodge Health Systems from Goldman on Friday. Perhaps it’s the same guy. I really didn’t focus on it. Our clients are typically not ground-floor investors in tech start ups. I’ll bring it to your office on Monday. Now, I’m assuming you need sleep. Since Breck is in Charlotte, you may even get some. There is a cooler of food in the trunk from Mom. You won’t have to go out tomorrow. Let’s get you home. And I’ll see you Monday.”
As I walked in, I realized the cell was still on airplane mode. I opened it, and it exploded with txts. I had accidentally failed to remove the aircraft setting. It was of course Breck. He was frantic. “I knew you landed a few hours ago. I’ve been calling ever since, going to instant voicemail. Are you home?”
“Yeah. Sorry, didn’t reset when we landed. I’m glad to hear from you too. Dad brought me home and Mom has sent enough food for a week. I think I’ll try to catch up tomorrow–with sleep and the gym. I feel like a Sherman tank mired in mud.”
“Nice image. I’m still picturing you on that mat under me. I’ll be sending a tow truck right away. But keep away from the driver. He’s a sex-starved pervert. He’ll have you out wrestling in the mud, and he’ll be in your pants before you even know what happened. Remember, I’m your only approved wrestling partner.”
“Things are good here. Some last tests of the system on Monday and Tuesday. Then I’m outta here. Can I see you Wednesday night? I’ll even join you at Bods if you insist.”
“Sure we can talk again, but let’s plan on an early start–maybe 7 at Bods? Then you can come back here and help me with all this food. And maybe a few other things that need tending.”
“Sounds like a plan. I can’t wait. And I do plan to help you with a lot more than the food.”
Monday and Tuesday were hell. I was really sore from two plus hours at Bods on Sunday, and there were many “need immediately” requests for analysis and research. I worked twelve hours each day. Finally, Wednesday arrived and after another grueling day, filled with paper, I left for the gym, anxious to see Breck.
He too must have been anxious. He was waiting in the lobby. We bro-hugged, his hand lingering on my ass for maybe a few seconds too long. I signed us in and we went up to the locker to change. He looked delicious. I knew many eyes in the locker were watching as he changed into gym gear. He was so cut and so racked. And I felt like I had gained ten pounds–all in my gut and waist band. He didn’t seem to notice–although later he forced me into extra rounds of “trunk building” sets–so I guess he had noticed. I guess he wasn’t into Daddy-bods.
Then it was home to the condo. We entered and it was like a switch had been suddenly hit. I was picked up and dropped on the bed. He covered me instantly and took my face in his hands and my lips in his. We rolled on the bed, losing clothes as we flipped. I hadn’t forgotten how magnificent he was–and how well we fit together. Perfect pecs. Perfect guns. Perfect abs. Perfect ass. And really perfect cock. He was acting the aggressor, but it didn’t bother me at all. I was probably matching his enthusiasm. His hands were everywhere. So were mine. His legs cocooned mine. His lips never left mine. To have someone so beautiful so into me. And then he dropped the bomb.
“I didn’t touch John. I haven’t touched anyone. I haven’t even done myself–except when I sent you that picture. I am so full of stuff that I’m afraid I might drown you. You can swim can’t you?” I laughed and flipped onto my belly, pushing my ass up into him. I couldn’t handle missionary. I couldn’t face him; I hoped he didn’t detect the perfidy in my face. “Take me now, Breck. I need that monster inside. Do it fast and rough. We’ve got all night to catch up.” I guess my guilt wasn’t obvious, at least for now, because he quickly moved into position.
He released and knelt into the vee. Pulling my cheeks apart, his tongue darted in as his nose nudged into the cleft. “No foreplay, Breck. Just jam him in!” Nevertheless he lubed me and him and began to press for entrance. I couldn’t handle it. I jerked back into him and he lodged firmly, skipping past the prostate en route to a solid bottom. It hurt. He was after all hugely endowed and rock hard. But, I deserved to be hurt. He froze, everything but his dick. I could feel the throbbing inside and the minute movements of his cock in my shaft, pushing out the walls and leaking pre-cum. I wondered if he felt how I was feeling.
“I can’t believe how hot you are, Paul. You’re burning up. And you’re burning me up. I’m already leaking and I can feel the spunk rising. I can’t stop. Ahh. Here it is!” And he shot a dozen times–literally filling me so it dripped down my thighs. He rested on top, struggling to keep himself hard, plugging me, holding me tight to his hard body. It was way more than release of a few weeks spunk. He was holding himself stiff inside, making sure his seed penetrated. He was taking possession. It was as though he knew that this, the first time upon my return, had to be good, really good. It had to erase anything that I had experienced in Africa. He wanted to be my everything. He maintained a tight grip on my shaft, stalling my release. This was his time.
Then he eased off, released my dick and started a systematic tongue bath of my inner thighs as he caressed my balls and gently stroked the shaft. Then he re-entered. It was way too intense. And I shot into the bedclothes, spasming my ass and squeezing the juice out of his shaft. He pulled me into his chest and then fell on his side, spooning me tightly as his lips began to take possession of my neck while his hand continued to stroke my shaft. I had never experienced a hotter homecoming. (And I didn’t even think of Ollie.)
It wasn’t going to be a night for food. And it wasn’t going to be a night for talk. We fucked–no, we made love–over and over again, flipping roles every time. We came simultaneously. We came in each other’s smiling mouths. We came deep inside. Sometimes slow. Sometimes fast. Sometimes rough. By early morning we were sore and exhausted and wallowing in sheets wet and caked with cum. The musk in the room was pervasive. We were both in a trance. We didn’t need drugs or alcohol. We had had the best. Finally we slept for a few hours.
“I’ve got to report into Miami. But can I come back tonight?”
“God, I’ve got so much work at the office, but I won’t be able to do any of it. I’ll be daydreaming of you and your magic wand all day. You’ve already turned me into a wanton slut. The hell with business. Of course you can come back. Shall we say 7? No, I think it’s time for a key. I’ll give you a key. You can use my unused spot in the garage. Arrive whenever you want–but if it’s later than 7, I’m changing the locks!” I laughed as did he. Nothing that had happened in Africa seemed to matter at that moment. I had just offered Breck the key to my apartment, and maybe my heart.
We showered, made coffee, dressed and left the condo at a very fashionable 10. Dad emerged from his office as I entered. I’m sure I looked worn–and thoroughly fucked. “I guess you and Breck had a good homecoming. I want to meet this boy. Anybody who can make my son this happy is okay with me.” He winked and handed me the draft Lodge Systems prospectus. “You didn’t tell me he was the youngest son of one of the wealthiest families in America.” He handed me a few client files for analysis. “If you need to leave early, these can wait.”
It was a short day time-wise, only about 7 hours, but it never seemed to end. Finally, I gave up and headed home at a little before 7.
Tad beat me to the condo. He was already showered, nude and lying on the king–the sun streaming over his tanned, muscled body since he hadn’t closed the blinds. A few remaining droplets of water picked up the sun and spashed rainbow colors on the white walls. I walked into the room, unbuttoning my shirt and undoing my tie. I looked into his brilliant blue eyes and whispered, “Honey, I’m home.”
He grabbed the ends of the tie and pulled me on top of him. Within seconds, he had me naked. I guess it’s something they teach you in prep school. “Paul, can I do you first? I’ve been hard all day. And lying here thinking about you.”
“So have I. But, yes, you can have the first honors. I’m planning to cum with you anyway.”
He rolled me on my side and used his talented thighs to nudge my left leg forward. He lubed me and his cock. Then he grabbed my cock with one hand and my abs with the other, pulling me into him. I was almost on top, my back to his chest. Nice hard body. Strong enveloping arms. Talented boy. As he did so, his cock slipped in past the ring and stopped at the base of the love bundle. He thrust up a few times and his stroking resulted in a bottoming. I turned my face to his and he took my mouth in his. His eyes were alive with passion. I only hope mine didn’t betray my experiences in Africa. He was taking me the way Ron had.
He bounced a few more times and rolled left, trapping me securely under, his cock fully impaling me. I was full. I was happy. And I felt safe in his arms. This position–with me partially under and him entering from the side, was quickly becoming my favorite–protected, but able to participate. And his cock rested very nicely on the side of my love nut. We paused for a few moments and I could feel his throbbing cock inside. He was truly a great lover. Then, he could feel the beginnings of my spasms which tightened the grip of my anal muscles on his shaft. He speeded up, plunged over and over, punched the prostate again and again. He released–as did I.
A little later, I got up, wiped us down and went to the bar to pour us a few Bombay Sapphire/rocks with lime. I returned to the bed and plumped up the pillows. It was going to be time to talk.
“You go first. Tell me about Charlotte.”
“Well it didn’t turn out to be anything nefarious. Just incompetency–our systems didn’t mesh precisely with theirs and rather than reprogram, the installers decided to just overlook it and hope for the best. We both know what that produces! And John didn’t realize what they had done to us.”
“John?”
“He has succumbed to his mother. A very nice Boston deb is now sporting a large diamond, a girl we both knew from Wheaton. The wedding is next spring. I sure hope it works. I know John is bi, maybe gay. But, he’s not willing to cross his family. It turns out he’s a lightweight boy of privilege. I don’t think we can keep him in Lodge Systems. He’s not a hard worker. And he’s careless. We just can’t have that. I’m surprised I didn’t guess all of this years ago.”
“Meanwhile Goldman has issued the draft red herring. It’s really just an early peak, a tantalizer. They plan an IPO in about 60 to 90 days depending on general market conditions. They don’t want to come to market in December. And there’s often a post-new year market dip. So we’ll see. It’s pretty much out of my hands right now. I just need to make sure our three beta installations continue to operate flawlessly. Fortunately, my Boston partner seems to be on top of that project.”
Breck reached over and pulled me into him. My head nestled between his pecs, and his hands moved down to cradle my balls. He immediately started to massage them. I shivered and pushed down into him. He wasn’t going to make this easy.
“I’m afraid my African project is a lot more complex. I got the business plan just before I left. It needed a lot of work. Ron is a ranger-guide, apparently a star, but not a business man. He hadn’t considered so many issues. So we worked together to pin down where we are, how much money will be needed to bring the project to an opening, and discussed several possible ways to divide up the project to accelerate the roll out. Unfortunately, South Africa in general is not really a developed equity market and their lending practices are quite primitive. Ron is assembling a team, has completed a good deal of the construction of the hotel facilities, but he needs capital. And perhaps more importantly he needs financial management and maybe a hotel partner. I think it’s a great idea, but it’s risky and will take some time.”
“Ron asked me to stay and handle the financial management.”
“I assumed something like that was in the offing when you left. And I guess he sweetened the pot, so to speak, with some personal attention.”
“Let me give you the bottom line. Then, I’ll fill in some details. I didn’t agree to stay or to handle financial management. I did agree to help him structure financing. I’ve already contacted a hotel consultant that can do some of the initial stuff, and Ron has a friend who manages a successful hotel for an Indian hotel chain family. Russ is supposed to have met with Ron today to see what might be done. Ron will report back in two weeks, or so, on progress.”
“Are you planning to return in two weeks?”
“No. He’s got to handle the Africa side. If necessary, I’ll try to provide some American financial backing. But, he understands that I’m not available for regular Africa duty. This is his project, not mine or ours.”
“I told you weeks ago that Ron had helped me to move beyond Billy a year ago. We continued my ‘therapy’ this round. Yes, we fucked a few times. But, I’m not committed to Ron. I don’t think I’m in love with Ron. And I certainly don’t want to leave Miami. You’ve got nothing to worry about Breck. He is definitely not a competitor for me–at least in my thinking. Even if you’re planning to bow out.”
“I wasn’t worried, really. I’m pretty confident that I can get what I want. I’m not bowing out. Not at all. And I do want you, Paul. I know who I am and what I can offer–including almost unconditional love. But, I realize I’m dealing with someone who is still unsure of who he is, who is still injured, who is still looking for a magic bullet to make all the problems of the past disappear.”
“I’m going to try to be that bullet–or at least the gun that shoots it, Paul. We’re going to make this work. I was hoping that you’d be celibate in Africa. I suppose that was naïve on my part. I remember specifically how we parted–and that you had not made an exclusivity commitment. But, I hoped.”
“Now, however, I’m going to make a request. No, a demand. I need you to promise me that you won’t have sex with anyone else while we are still together. No excuses. No exceptions. You won’t even lust in your heart. Can you promise me that? I need to know that I’m enough for you. Because you are enough for me. You’re what I’ve been waiting for.”
With those final words, he flipped me over and took me into a deep kiss. I could feel his hardness in my gut, while his fingers trailed lightly over my cleft, pausing at my rim. He wasn’t playing fair. But had I?
“I’m ready to give us a serious try, Breck. I promise.”
“Well, in that case, we got something else to talk about–but not until I fuck the shit out of you for screwing Ron. Then, I promise. I’ll never mention it again. He pushed me off onto my belly and rolled on top. Get ready, boy. I’m taking that ass on a rocket ship ride to the moon.”
(What an interesting expression!)
Ron pushed me hard into the sheets. Then he pulled me up by my hips and crammed both large pillows under. He slapped my thighs apart, tested the level of cum still inside me with his tongue, and added just a little more lube. Then I felt him at the entrance. He was rigidly hard, and he pressed firmly. My ring could actually feel his hood bunching at the entrance. I started to fall into the pillow under his weight, so he reached around, grabbed my hips and held me close. Then he penetrated and started the short strokes that would punish my prostate. I groaned, but turned and smiled at him, signaling that the groan was pleasure not pain.
Breck pushed further and bottomed and held me tightly into his abs. His silky pubes were tickling. Then he began a long slow pistoning, hitting the love nut with each stroke. A fist coddled my balls. “These are mine, Paul. Nobody gets to hold these but me.” He began moving them with his fingers around his palm stimulating the semen to boil. I was ready. And apparently so was he. He pounded a few times, collapsed onto me, crushing the pillows and exploded deep inside. He shot many times, hard and hot. And I felt the heat and the pressure. My spine tingled, and then I too shot into his waiting fist.
We remained in that position in the bed for some time. He was on top, holding me tight. But, I didn’t feel trapped. I felt loved and protected. He, on the other hand, was making a point. I was his and his alone.
Later, over a makeshift dinner pulled together from the various foods Mom had sent over to sustain me, Breck started again. “I think this may be the last weekend before my uncle returns to his condo. Will you join me this weekend?”
“I may have to put some time in Saturday morning. Could we start after lunch?”
“How about if I come here Friday night and drive you to my place with lunch en route on Saturday?”
“Perfect.”
*******
Friday started late. I didn’t get home until around 9. Breck was there, and was dishing up a spectacular seafood feast. “I didn’t ask, but I presume you eat and like lobster? I had a New England clam bake delivered today. It’s just about ready. I’ve been missing my soul food.”
I went in to change as he set out the food. He called out, “You won’t need clothes. We typically do this on the beach so all we wear are swim suits. Otherwise we need those ridiculous plastic bibs.” When I came back, wearing only a jock, he too had stripped to his boxers. Yeah, you guessed it, those silly boxers with the lobster print from Nantucket Vines. I started to laugh. “Well, if these bother you, they’re gone. He locked his thumbs in the waistband and pulled them down. And there he was before me in all his naked beauty. So much better than clad in Daddy boxers.
“So I guess I’m overdressed.” I pulled off the jock.
The meal was everything that Breck had promised. Chowder. Steamed clams. Corn on the cob. Hot Portuguese sausage. Lobster. Red Potatoes. And everything was dripping in high-cream melted butter. He had even brought along a very nice White Burgundy. This boy knew how to eat. He had obviously been conditioned to expect the best. He even showed me how to remove the “meat” from the lobster as he fed it to me, dripping in butter.
“This is delicious. You do realize that I’m trying to take off the Africa weight?”
“With all the physical activity I’ve planned for this weekend, you won’t gain an ounce. And I can promise the dessert doesn’t involve any calories at all!”
He was definitely pulling out all the stops. I was beginning to feel that my relationship with Breck was moving at bullet train speed. Yet, I knew very little about him. So it was time to fill in some blanks. I backed up and nestled into his chest and gut. His leg crossed over to hold me close. And his hand reached over to cup my balls. He knew that we were about to have a serious chat–and he wanted maximum physical advantage.
“Breck, we’ve been together now for about a month. But, I don’t feel I know much about you at all–except the routine stuff. Tell me a little about your childhood and family.”
“Sure. It’s not really all that interesting. I was born and raised in Boston. I went to prep school at Exeter and college at MIT. I’ve got two much older sisters. Dad used to joke that I was a mistake–coming 12 years after my next oldest sister was born. The sisters are married. Neither works outside the home. There are four children total–three boys and one girl. My Dad runs the family investment trust. It’s a big business. Probably more than 100 employees in Boston and dozens more scattered among the investment locations. All together, there are about 80 beneficiaries of the trust–and another 25 or so are currently expecting to be added to the list over the next 20 or so years. I’ve told you I’ll be one after my 35th birthday.
I wrestled at Exeter and MIT and you know I was pretty successful. My academic performance was near the top. I love what I do. I’m excited to go to the job every day. Dad had decided to move some of the family money to high tech and I was the one groomed to work in that field. Thus, Lodge Systems of which I am COO. (Dad is CEO.) My family has a townhouse in Boston and a large property on Nantucket with several cottages where I spent most summers. I love the water. I’m a good sailor and swimmer.”
“How about experience with dating?”
“I was late to mature, didn’t date until Exeter and soon realized that I was more into my classmates than the girls who attended our mixers. I fooled around with several of the guys–including John who was in my class. I had a semi-long relationship with a TA at MIT, but it ended when he moved to the West Coast. I was dating a guy from UHealth–the one who talked me into MiamiBods, but it was nothing serious.”
“I’m pretty conservative. The night at Bods when I won the match and let the guy I beat blow me in public was probably the wildest thing I’ve ever done in my life.”
“Yet, you came on to me almost immediately after.”
“Another first. When you stared over at me and licked your lips, I almost busted right then and there in my pants. You are one dark, lean, sexy, dude, Paul. You’re deep and mysterious and dangerous. You radiate a unique blend of danger and vulnerability–so some guys would want to take you while others would like to protect you. In fact, I can’t count the number of firsts I’ve had with you. I’ve fallen really hard for you, Paul. Sometimes when we aren’t together I ask myself what is going on. I’ve never been so impetuous. If someone had told me a month ago that I’d be sitting in a guy’s apartment, starkers, eating lobster that I had brought, I would have thought him crazy. You bring out the man in me, the wild in me, the best in me.”
“I suppose you realize we are quite different. Of course, we look very different. I’ve had mostly a public education. And I’m Jewish as my mother keeps reminding me. My grandparents fled persecution in Central Europe with their parents about 75 years ago. They’ve done well–but we are not in the same league, Breck. We’re one step off the boat, and this is your country. You are so confident. So All-American boy. I’m close to a nerd. A neurotic nerd, always afraid that people will hate me or reject me for what I am. So I’ve easily fallen into dependent relationships when I thought that was required to keep him interested. And once in a while my aggressiveness breaks out to cover my insecurity.”
“This may not sound true. There are so many stereotypes of conservative blue blood Bostonians. But, my folks are not prejudiced. They never have been. I have ancestors who were rebels against England, abolitionists, socialists, feminists–and every other ‘ist’ you can name. Money and security have given us the liberty to be what we want–without concern for job security or what others might think. But, our foundation is social justice, secular religious conviction that we owe. Some call it noblesse oblige.”
“And what I think Paul, is that I’m in love with you. I want to see how this works. I want to make it work. I know my folks will love you–because I do and because you make me very happy.”
“Let me try to convince you that I’m sincere in my love. Let me share some of my self-security and self-esteem with you. I think we can both be better for it.”
Pointing to the table which he had covered conveniently in newspint, he started rolling the shells into the paper. “So let’s get rid of what’s left here and head in for a shower. I’m guessing we are both still dripping in butter.”
“And there is nothing I would rather do than roll around in bed with you right now. And butter is not really a great lube, despite the hype. And no place I’d rather be than here with you in my arms and me in yours.”
We showered and headed for the bed. Possibly to prove what he had been saying, Breck spread out on his belly and presented himself to me. I lubed and massaged him. Then I flipped him, and we finished missionary. I was lost in his deep blue eyes and content to relax in his arms, trapped by his muscular wrestler’s legs, but I knew I had to make this good. He had opened his soul. I stretched and started push-ups, going deep and caressing his love bundle with each stroke. I could see his smile and I could feel the tension building in his entire body. And of course, we released together. Then, we fell asleep in a deep spoon. Remarkably, I was the big spoon.
In the morning, I awakened early, cleaned up and left for the office, leaving him sleeping. I knew he would spend the morning in the condo gym. So I left a note that I’d be home at noon, ready to leave for his condo. He had declared his love in terms even clearer than he had used before I left for Africa. By the time I got home, I had decided I was going to take a chance. I was going to let myself fall for him. I was going to be vulnerable. And I guess if you aren’t willing to be vulnerable, you’ll never find love.
******
I picked up a small case with clothes and we headed for the garage. There, I had another surprise. Parked in my space was a chrome yellow Porsche convertible. “Oh, didn’t I mention? My birthday gift arrived while you were in Africa. Dad sent this–but warned me it was the last ‘big’ gift I could expect.” It was beautiful, and I knew immediately I was in lust–with the car as well as the boy.
We fell into an easy pattern. Over the next weeks, he spent every Friday and Saturday night at my condo and many other nights as well–since his uncle did return and often entertained. The beta tests of Lodge Systems installations continued to work well. Most Saturdays evenings were spent exploring South Beach, often including a club, and always finishing in my bed. Never did I feel trapped or taken for a submissive.
Ron sent a long series of emails, and then we had a few phone calls. The Indian hotel family had jumped at the opportunity and had put Russ in charge of getting the ranch hotel in place for the next major season. They were going to enter into a long term lease and management agreement for the hotel producing at least $250K per year in cash for the maintenance of the manor and the breeding operation–and Harriet would be “in training” to be the GM. Russ was apparently spending many nights at the ranch with Ron. Harriet had “sold” a dozen partnerships to acquire animals–and based on that level of community support, the South African Tourist Authority had authorized a large guaranty for the breeding animal acquisition. The project was absolutely on track for a grand opening in about a year.
It was getting near the end of the year. Paul wanted me to come home with him for the holidays. And he was always surprising me: flowers, food, gifts, and, of course, new ways of maximizing our pleasure on the sheets. We both learned to ride–cowboy and cowgirl. Both learned how to lap dance. I learned that Breck was strong enough to take me deep and hard while standing as Ollie had done. And I did lose the Africa-weight. I was deeply cut again and very pleased with myself.
In early December, one weekend, he had suggested an early Saturday dinner. He was going to surprise me with the venue. Then we’d return to the condo. He said he had one last surprise and a proposal. We had a great dinner at the newest Nobu branch which had opened in Miami. Then headed home.
We were cuddling in the king–and the night was still early. Breck had just released my balls from their favorite place–in the palms of his hands where he regularly rolled them like Chinese worry beads–and rolled on top of me. He braced himself with arms on either side and stared down into my eyes. I could actually see and feel the emotion.
“So here is my proposal. I believe you said that you had rented this condo–and I’m assuming the lease anniversary is coming up soon since you’ve been here almost a year. At first, I thought that I needed to start paying you rent since I spend so much time here. But, I’ve checked and there is a larger unit two floors above this one. I’m going to buy it. By the time your lease ends, I think I will be able to convince you to move in with me. There’s even an extra room for a permanent wrestling set-up. I intend to show you my inner-dom often in that room. Whenever you feel the need to be submissive–or whenever I feel you need to feel submissive, we’ll head for that room and wrestle. I’m pretty sure that I can satisfy any neurotic desires that you might have to be held in bondage or dominated. Otherwise we are partners and lovers. I’m proposing, Paul. I want you now and always. And when we marry next year, I’ll deed half of the condo over to you. Some day we can get a house, maybe in Coconut Grove, and fill it with kids. What do you think?”
“I’m simply aghast, Breck. You’re killing me. I never dreamed that I would meet someone like you, or that I could be so happy. But, we haven’t even met the folks yet–and we’ve been together for only a few months.”
“Lodges are impetuous. We didn’t come to America on the first boat with years of advance planning. I know what I want. It’s you. I know it’s going to work. I’m so sure, that I’m going to buy the condo whatever you say. If we aren’t live-in lovers, we’ll be neighbors with benefits. But I think I know what I can accomplish. A Goodfield doesn’t stand a chance when a Lodge decides how things are going to be. You can throw me out whenever I get to be too much. Or you can motion me to the wrestling dungeon. But the rest is non-negotiable.”
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“Wow. I’m going to say yes. On one condition. No two conditions. The first, you need to meet my folks this weekend.”
“Done. They’ll love me. I know how lovable I am. And I’m ready to promise your mother some grand-kiddies.”
I chuckled. “Wait until you meet Mom. She’s got her own ideas about my perfect mate. And I’m guessing your folks have also visualized your forever guy–and I doubt I’m it. But I will go to Boston with you for the holidays and walk the plank.”
“And the second. Pull up those legs and roll back, Breck. I’m taking you to Mars. I’ve seen enough of the moon.” He laughed since the full moon was shining through the blinds at that very moment.
As he positioned himself, pulling his legs into a wide vee and offering his ass, he added, “That is one condition that I’ll always be ready to meet. I leaned over to the end table and grabbed my black-rimmed glasses and the lube.
“You are about to be fucked by a nerdy boy, Breck. I hope you like it.” I ate him for a few minutes–something I knew he loved. Then we lubed and I slid in, thinking again that my cock had been dubbed a black mamba by another guy I once knew. I would wait until Breck renamed him. Breck released his legs and wrapped them around my waist as he drew my chest to his. We kissed and I slowly pumped, reveling in our contact, not wanting it to end too quickly. Breck turned nearly as dark as I as his arousal overcame him. Then, of course, we experienced a powerful, simultaneous orgasm of cosmic dimension–bigger even than Mars.
I placed my head onto his chest and breathed in his musky freshness. He whispered in my ear, “And, by the way, someday we’ll honeymoon in South Africa.”
As I squirmed over him, and took his left nipple between my lips, he sighed and pulled me tight. I smiled and thought. “Wait until he meets Ollie!”
BD
(I’m pretty sure this is the end of this series. But I reserve the right to bring them back in a different context.)