The Lifeguard

By Orrin Rush (Of Blessed Memory)

Published on Jun 22, 2000

Gay

Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction. If you are offended by graphic descriptions of homosexual acts, go somewhere else.

Copyright c 2000 by Orrin C. Rush. All rights reserved.

Neither this story nor any parts of it may be distributed electronically or in any other manner without the express, written consent of the author.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance of the characters to anyone living or dead is pure coincidence and not intended. They are all products of the author's imagination.

THE LIFEGUARD

Chapter 20

Eric hit the ground running. He couldn't wait for Monday so he could start looking at office space. Micron would be sending out a "Facilities Specialist" in a week or so to take care of the details.

I hoped he'd find something close to our Headquarters so we could at least have lunch together. He had the same idea, but didn't want to be "too" close so that he'd be tempted to call on me for advice all the time.

"There's always the phone," I reminded him.

Within two weeks, he was settled into a 21st floor suite only 7 blocks from my office. It wasn't huge, consisting of his office, a reception area, a conference room, and a couple of spare offices just in case.

The "Facilities" person Micron sent included Eric in the furniture and decoration process. Nothing was too good or too expensive, according to Eric.

He didn't want me to see it until it was complete, including a Secretary. On the day the office officially opened, I was given the grand tour. The flowers I'd sent were already there, along with several others from New York.

He was like a little kid, and I didn't blame him. The office was luxurious, and most impressive for someone barely out of college.

"Now it's time to REALLY go to work," he sighed.

We'd agreed to meet after work and have dinner out to celebrate. "We haven't checked out any of your local hotels," he said, "let's have dinner at one of them."

Our spirits were high when we got to the Maitre 'd's podium. "Table for two," I requested, "or if you have a booth, we'd prefer that."

"I'm sorry, sir, we don't have anything available," the Maitre 'd told us.

I looked around, and there were vacant tables and booths scattered throughout the restaurant.

"How soon will you have one?" I asked.

"We won't have anything open tonight," he said.

"I find that hard to believe," I said incredulously.

"That's the way it is, SIR," he almost shouted.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked.

"Don't you get it, SIR?" he sneered. "Your kind aren't welcome here. We don't cater to queers."

"Wait a goddam minute," Eric piped up. "Where's the manager?"

"I AM the manager, SIR, and that's the way it is. Hotel policy. I don't make the rules, I just enforce them."

"Let's go, Eric," I said, turning to walk away.

"They can't do that, can they?" he asked as we walked out.

"They seem to be getting away with it, but they're not going to for very damned long!"

"What're you going to do?" he asked when we were back in the car.

"I don't know how many hotels York leases from us, but every damn one one of them is in jeopardy. What they're doing is absolutely illegal. Talk about discrimination! I'm sure as hell not going to sit still and let them pull this shit. I'll throw their asses out.

"I'm so sorry, babe," I continued, "this was supposed to be a celebration."

"That's OK," he said. "I've kind of lost my appetite."

Eric told Annie what had happened while I grabbed the phone. My first call was to Dan. "I was just refused dinner at one of my own hotels," I roared.

"The York?" he asked.

"Yes."

"I'm not surprised. They're notoriously gay unfriendly," he said. "I thought you knew that."

"I do now, and either that changes or they're out on their asses."

"Good luck," he said. "They've been getting away with it for years."

"How do they manage that?"

"They put faggots at the desk and every other place, and make them refuse rooms or service to any of us who show up," he said.

"I didn't think we were that obvious, that explains it. 'Takes one to know one'."

"You guys aren't. But that's how they work it," he said.

"I'll let you know what happens," I told him. "This is NOT going to continue at my hotels!"

Eric and Annie were in a huddle. "How many hotels does York lease from us?" I asked her.

"Fourteen, I think," she said. "I also think they're all run by York itself, not franchised out."

"Calm down, babe," Eric said, handing me a drink.

I took a sip and winked at him. "This could be fun. I enjoy getting indignant once in a while." Turning to Annie, I asked "Do you know how many hotels York has, total?"

"About 50, I think, but I'm not sure," she answered.

"Then, yanking 14 out from under them could really hurt."

"That's more than 25% of their business," Eric added. "That's a big chunk."

"I think we'd better take a look at those leases," I said. "Annie, get one of your legal eagles busy, I want to know where we stand."

"Tonight?" she asked.

"No, but I want an opinion by 9:00 tomorrow morning."

"I'll have it for you," she said. "Another thing. If you do throw them out, I think I could re-lease them in less than 30 days. A couple of the big chains have already asked me to call them if anything becomes available. I don't think that would be a problem at all."


Annie was waiting in my office when I got there. She had one of our bright young lawyers with her.

"What's the verdict?" I asked.

"I'll let Dale tell you, Dad."

"I've looked at all 15 of the York leases, Mr. Rush," he said. "Every one has a standard clause requiring compliance with all laws in the jurisdiction in which the hotel is located. I went a step further and found that all York hotels are located in cities or states that prohibit discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation. They're clearly flaunting the law."

"Is that grounds for canceling their leases?"

"In my opinion, yes," he said.

"I respect your opinion, Dale, but I'd like everybody in Legal to look at them before I start raising hell."

"We can do that and I can have an answer back to you within an hour," he said.

After he'd gone, I asked Annie who ran York.

"Gordon Pike is President and CEO," she said.

"Can you get me his phone number?"

"Sure, be right back."

I got a cup of coffee and planned my attack.

Annie came back with the phone number and Dale was close behind.

"We all agree," he said. "If they are practicing discrimination, you have the right to terminate all their leases."

"That's what I'd hoped," I said.

"My boss had a suggestion," Dale continued. "York will undoubtedly deny this is happening, so, in order to take legal action, we'd need hard proof that they're doing this."

"Isn't the fact that they wouldn't let Eric and I have dinner at the Marina York proof enough?"

"For that one location, yes," Dale said, "but that alone wouldn't cover any of the other hotels."

"Either those assholes change their policy or I want them out. How do we go about getting proof?"

"Either we find someone who has suffered from this policy, and get affadavits from them, or we send someone to each hotel to see if it happens to them. If it does, we have them," he said.

"I don't think York will go quietly," I said, "so we'll need all the ammunition we can get. I guess we'll have to round up all our friends and buy a few plane tickets. I don't want this to continue in OUR hotels. I'd like to check 'em out myself, but Eric can't get away."

"I'd like to volunteer," Dale said. "My partner and I wouldn't mind being thrown out of a few hotels."

I smiled. I didn't know. "Can your partner get some time off?"

"I'm pretty sure he can."

An idea was forming. "How many cities, besides here, are we talking about?"

"Only six," he said.

"Here's an idea: Take the plane. Ron and Jason, our pilots, are gay too, so together, you could probably hit at least 2 cities a day, maybe three. You could also both try the same hotel, and if you all got the same treatment, we'd have all the proof we'd need. Oh yes, would there be any problem with 'entrapment'?"

"I don't think there would be an entrapment problem, but I'll get more opinions on that," he said.

"Check out the entrapment, check with your partner, then get back to me. I'll call your boss and ask him to let me have you for however long this takes."

"Thank you sir," he said.

"My name is Dave," I told him.

"Yes sir....Dave," he said, smiling.

Our legal department wasn't large, but they were good, damned good. They cleared the entrapment issue, and Dale's partner was available and on his way to the office. Ron and Jason didn't have anything scheduled that couldn't be transferred to commercial flights, and were on their way up.

It was about lunchtime when we all got together. At about that time, Eric walked in. I brought him up to date on what was happening, and he gleefully joined the planning session.

Jason had a map and planned the route. He figured that they could get the job done in two days if they timed everything carefully.

Eric and I would check out the other York hotel here in town, and the team would cover the other 13.

"I'm proud of you, Boss," Jason announced. "We'll do our best for you."

They didn't want to waste any time, and planned to leave that afternoon.

"I want a daily report, in fact, call me after every hotel you visit."

"We'll do that," Dale promised.

They left to pack and get started.

"Think it'll work?" Eric asked.

"I actually hope it doesn't. I don't want to believe that this is really going on, but if it is, it's going to be stopped, at least in the hotels we own."

"Let's check out the York Galleria tonight, then we'll have a better idea," he suggested.

"This time, we'll get names - if it happens again," I answered. "We'll have the whole story by Friday."

Even though we had dinner reservations "for two", we were refused service. It had been a "mistake" that the reservation had been taken because the restaurant was already overbooked. This explanation given with a lot of empty tables in clear evidence.

When pressed, we were again told that we "just weren't welcome". Pressed further, the reason given was that this was a "family establishment not catering to deviates."

It was difficult not to take a swing at the pompous little swish who was feeding us this crap. Eric saw how pissed I was and led me out.

By the time we ate at a friendly restaurant and got home, there was a message from Dale. They'd been thrown out of two hotels already, not quietly, but with a lot of vicious remarks thrown in.

By Friday, all 15 hotels had been checked out, and all had given the same treatment. Some were nice about it, most weren't. It was time to call Pike.

Eric had made me promise to let him listen in, so he ran over from his office.

I had Nancy place the call because I was in no mood to deal with a bunch of protective secretaries.

I swore to myself that I would remain calm, treat it as an everyday business matter. Eric was on an extension, muted, so he could listen, and Annie was hovering in the background.

When Pike was on, I picked up the phone and introduced myself.

"So nice to hear from you, Dave. I was wondering when we would get together. What can I do for you?"

"I believe we have a few matters that need to be discussed," I told him.

"Fine with me, Dave. I'm gonna be busy for the next couple of weeks, you could come back here anytime after that. We could get in a couple rounds of golf. How's that sound."

"These matters won't wait," I told him. "I'd like you here in my office early next week."

"Aw come on, Dave, nothing can be that serious. How about three weeks from Monday?"

"That won't work, Mr. Pike. This is urgent," I told him.

"How 'bout tellin me what this is all about."

"Your leases are in jeopardy, Mr. Pike, all fifteen of them," I said calmly.

That got his attention. The "good old boy" vernacular disappeared.

"You can't be serious," he said. "What's the problem?"

"We'll discuss that when you get here, Mr. Pike. Would Monday be convenient?" I asked.

"You sound real serious."

"I am," I assured him.

"I guess I'd better get out there then. I'll see you on Monday."

"I'm at the Metalco Building, and will be waiting. Please let me know what time you'll be here."

"Just as soon as I make some reservations, Dave, I'll call you," he said.

"Thank you, Mr. Pike. I'll see you on Monday."

When the phones were hung up, Eric whooped "Can you spell P O W E R?"

I smiled at him, understanding, and Annie looked at us like we were both nuts. "I don't get it," she said. "You were cool, Dad."

"Private joke," I told her. "I think I got my point across."

After she left, Eric came over and pressed his crotch against my shoulder. "See what you do to me?"

"Wait til we get home, horny stud," I said, massaging him and making him even more uncomfortable.

"Asshole," he said playfully. "See you in a couple of hours, and I'll be all lubed up."

I didn't fully understand Eric's obsession with this "power" thing, but was more than willing to play along.

When I got home, he was true to his word. He dragged me directly to the bedroom, undressed me then himself, and got his knees up to his shoulders in a hurry. "I want, no, I need you right now," he said.

Seeing him lying there, his long cock pulsing on his stomach, was more than enough to bring me to full attention. I lubed up and entered him smoothly and easily. Knowing that he was already aroused almost to the point of climax, I tried to level the playing field.

Leaning forward and resting chest to chest, I took one of his biceps in each hand. He understood. He flexed while I pumped. In seconds, we were both over the edge, bucking and twitching together.

"Feel better?" I asked when the spasms died down.

"Much, but I need more." I was more than willing, so round 2 got underway. It lasted a lot longer, but the results were the same.


Pike was due to arrive at 1:30. We were assembled in my office waiting. Annie was there in her official capacity as President of Chateau Properties, Dale was there as our legal representative, and Eric was there because he absolutely insisted on being there at my side.

We all agreed that it would be handled like any other meeting even though the issue was one we were all emotionally involved in. I would restrain myself and stick to the facts.

He was 20 minutes late. After his apologies, he turned on the "Good old Boy" charm, which none of us bought. I was as cordial as I could be, under the circumstances.

"Now tell me about that 'little old problem' we seem to have," he said.

"Mr. Pike," I started, "I'd like to know about your policies regarding homosexuals at your hotels."

"It isn't written down anywhere," he answered, "but we try to keep 'em out. We just don't want them around because we cater to God Fearing Christians with family values, at least the rich ones." He winked at me.

"So, you refuse service and rooms to anyone that might be perceived to be gay?"

"Sure do," he said. "We don't want them perverts prancing around with our good Christian folk. I'm sure you understand. Hell you wouldn't want THEM around either."

"What would you say if I told you that I was one of THEM, Mr. Pike?"

"Dave, do you think we should be discussing this sordid stuff right here in front of this lovely young lady?" he asked, indicating Annie.

"My daughter is President of Chateau, and is here in that capacity. Now, please answer my question."

"I'd say you were pullin my leg," he answered. "Surely you must be kidding me."

"I'm not," I snapped. "My partner and I were refused service at your hotel right here in town. That's intolerable and illegal."

"That must have been a mistake. It'll never happen again, I assure you."

"That's not good enough, Mr. Pike. The same thing happened to my people at every one of the hotels you lease from us."

"You can't prove that," he spat out.

"Oh yes we can, Mr. Pike. We have more than 15 affadavits, including mine, and we have videotape of your employees committing these illegal acts as well. What is your response to that?"

"They'll never stand up in court," he said, getting really defensive.

"You must think I'm rather stupid, Mr. Pike," I told him, keeping myself calm. "I'd never make these accusations without having irrefutable proof. You've also admitted, right here in front of four witnesses, that you encourage and condone these practices. That's in clear violation of the terms of your leases with us. What do you want to do about it?"

"We're not changing our policies," he said.

"Then, I suggest you pack your bags," I told him, nodding to Dale.

"Mr. Pike," Dale said, handing him a sheaf of papers, "these are fifteen eviction notices covering all of the properties you lease from us. You have 30 days to vacate those premises."

"This isn't legal!" he screamed. "You're putting me out of business."

"That's our intention," I assured him.

"I'll fight you to the Supreme Court, and let the whole world know you're a goddam pervert," he yelled.

"That's your privilege, Mr. Pike," I told him. "You'll lose, and the other people who lease hotels to you will probably run you out too. If you want to make this messy, I'm ready. I suggest that you go quietly and salvage what you can."

Then he completely lost his composure. "No fucking queer is going to push ME around. You must all be perverts, look at you snickering sons-of-bitches!"

"That'll be quite enough, Mr. Pike," I said. "I suggest you take your bigoted self elsewhere if you're going to act like that."

"Now you're throwing me out?" he asked incredulously.

"You got it," Eric said. "I'll be happy to help you to the door." He rose and headed in Pike's direction. Looming over him, Pike was clearly intimidated, and, gathering what dignity he could muster, headed for the door.

He had to get in a parting shot, though. "You can't get away with this, you bastard. Better start watching over your shoulder."

I just smiled at him, refusing to dignify that crude threat with an answer.

When he was gone, I commented to the silent group "A man like that doesn't deserve to be in business, much less in charge of a billion-dollar operation."

Dale broke the silence. "He runs 35 other hotels, and I don't think he owns a one of them. With your permission, Dave, I'd like to advise the other owners of his illegal activities and see what they do."

"Let's not 'corner' him yet," I suggested. "Let's see what he does, then we can decide. In the meantime it might not be a bad idea to check out the others - who owns them, and if they're in jurisdictions that have discrimination statutes."

"I'll go to work on it," he said on his way out.

"I can't believe dinosaurs like that still exist," Annie commented. "I'm so damned proud of you, Dad, for doing what's right."


For the past week, all of my energies had been concentrated on the York matter. Eric, however, had concentrated on his job, and was in the final stage of preparation for his first meeting with a prospective merger candidate that I laughingly referred to as his first "victim".

His target company had developed technology that Micron wanted. I was happy to see that Micron wasn't into "reinventing the wheel". The company had already floated their first public offering, but their stock had stagnated. There was one problem. They had gotten their initial bankroll from a Venture Capital firm that just happened to be owned by Kevin's family. Eric was concerned about creating any problems with Annie's boyfriend's family.

I appreciated his concern, but told him not to worry. Business was business, and Kevin's family stood to make a bundle on the stock they held. They would probably welcome Micron's offer.

I offered him use of the plane, but he insisted on flying commercial. This was HIS business and he didn't want to impose on my generosity. His plan was to fly up to San Jose and back the same day. The company was located in Silicon Valley.

When the day came, I kissed him goodbye, and spent the whole day worrying about him. I knew he was enormously capable and well prepared, but nevertheless, thought about him all day.

When he got home, he was less than joyful. His "victims" knew about his relationship with me and Metalco, and had assumed that an offer would be coming from us. When they learned that Eric represented Micron, they were disappointed and not too eager to be swallowed up by them.

"They thought they'd be the first hi-tech acquisition for Metalco," he said. "They were planning on becoming the cornerstone of your entry into that field. When they learned about Micron, they were afraid they'd get lost in the shuffle. I'm pretty sure it's an ego thing."

"How are you going to counter that?" I asked.

"I get the impression that these two guys are pretty much loners, kinda nerdy," he said. "They don't like the idea of being told what to do, and want to be the center of attention.

"The stuff they've got is really important to Micron. They want to incorporate it into their next generation software. Micron wants them bad, and the offer they're willing to make is outrageous, in my opinion. We never got that far today when they balked at even the idea.

"I also get the feeling that money isn't as important to these guys as recognition. I've got a few ideas that I'm going to talk over with the guys in New York in the morning."

"Sounds to me like you're on the right track," I agreed.

"If Micron's next generation could be advertised as having 'Tetracom' features, they'd get the recognition they're looking for. That's one hurdle. Then, if they met the fearsome foursome from New York, I'm sure their enthusiasm would rub off on these guys and convince them that a team effort would be to their advantage. All this, not to mention the money they'd make."

Micron agreed with Eric's assessment, and thought the idea of including "Tetracom technology" on their software label was brilliant. They gave Eric the go-ahead to present that concept, and agreed to come to Silicon Valley and present their case if necessary.

He was off again to see his victims. This time, I didn't worry. Eric was as perceptive as usual, finding the problem, zeroing in on it and finding a solution.

He was a lot happier when he got home than the last time.

"I was right," he said. "Recognition was the key. When I told them that Micron would integrate their stuff, and feature it in their advertising, they became all ears.

"Then, when I threw out our offer, they damned near fell off their chairs. They were ready to sign right then and there."

"Congratulations," I told him. "You did it again. So money was a factor afterall?"

"Oh yes, but not as important as having their name on millions of CD's."

A little later, Eric got a call from Kevin. They talked for quite a while, and when Eric came back, he was all smiles.

"I was wrong on that one," he told me. "Tetracom is Kevin's pet project and he's ecstatic over our offer. He wants to get together and see if any of their other companies would be of interest to Micron.

"He didn't know I was working for Micron, and, at first gave me hell for moving in on his turf, but he's happy with the deal. I guess the guys up north are too.

"I've got another idea I want to run by the guys in New York. I think it'd be a good idea to approach the other four on my 'hit list' before anything leaks out about this deal. What do you think?"

"Take 'em by surprise! Hell, if you could close them all at the same time, you'd be set for life. Go for it."


Our friend Mr. Pike decided to play hardball. His lawyers' response to our Eviction Notices outlined their refusal to vacate and threatened lawsuits if we proceeded, and even more, for defamation of character, if we went to the press.

Dale and his boss, Jack, the head of our Legal Department, brought me this news. They both watched for my reaction, Dale intently, hoping, I'm sure, that I wouldn't cave in.

"This is absolute bullshit," I told them. "If they want to play this way, so can we. I'd hoped that it wouldn't come to this, but I'm not backing down an inch. I want those assholes OUT."

"It could be a long and costly battle," Jack warned. "The guy's fighting for his life and I hear he's a street fighter."

"Then, we up the ante," I said. "If enough pressure is coming from enough directions, he'll make mistakes. He's got a temper. I saw that when he was here, and he'll do something rash. If he wants a street fight, we'll give him one.

"You guys might not approve of my tactics, but on something like this, I intend to win. If that means not exactly playing by the rules, so be it."

"If that's what you want, we're here to help," Jack said. "I agree, it's unconscionable what that guy is doing, but it takes someone like you to give him his comeuppance."

"Moral outrage may or may not be on our side," I said, "so I suggest we take an indirect approach instead of a frontal attack. It may not be exactly kosher, but I think it might work. Eric and I have come up with an idea that is pretty devious, but will put enormous pressure on Pike. We won't even have to drag the other owners in, they'll join us voluntarily. By the way, is discrimination a misdemeanor or a felony?"

"It depends on the Jurisdiction," Dale said, "Sometimes even the Federal Government gets involved."

I spent the next hour outlining the plan Eric and I had come up with. Dale was jubilant, Jack wasn't so sure, but agreed to give it a try.

We watched and waited. First it was one lawsuit filed, then another, then a deluge.

Individuals were filing wrongful discrimination suits against York and certain of their employees, asking for enormous damages. Most weren't even our hotels!

Local Prosecutors were jumping on the bandwagon, some were opening "investigations", others getting indictments.

At first, the press largely ignored the story, hiding a short paragraph near the back pages. When it became apparent that this wasn't a local thing, the story reached the front page of a lot of papers, and got national TV coverage.

Pike called me, no doubt against his attorney's advice. "You really play dirty," he said. It sounded like he was having trouble maintaining control.

"What are you talking about?" I lied.

"You're behind all these lawsuits, admit it you bastard."

"Can you prove that?" I asked.

"No," he admitted.

"Then you'd better keep your goddam mouth shut, or I'll sue your ass off for defamation of character. Go whine to somebody else." I hung up on him.

Jack and Dale recommended that we move quickly, so we did. We filed for immediate eviction, and the courts approved. We wanted them out before they could file for bankruptcy protection which would delay everything. We got in just under the wire. Annie's new tenants took over and the transfers went smoothly. I had no regrets.


Eric had been busy. He had reached agreement with two more on his "hit list", and was getting ready to go after the last two. They were, by far, the largest. One was located in Denver, the other in Austin.

Both were successful on their own and really didn't "need" Micron. That would make Eric's pitch all that more difficult, and he agonized over how to approach them.

One was a producer of Educational Software, the other Games, areas that Micron wanted to get into, but didn't want to develop themselves.

Eric decided that before he faced them, he'd go to New York and get an "enthusiasm injection" from the fearsome foursome, and maybe pick up some new ideas.

He'd already made one trip to New York without me, and even though he cajoled me, I didn't particularly want to go this time either. I'd miss him, at night particularly, but also felt he didn't need me there. He was doing very well on his own, under Sarah's watchful eye.

On his first trip, he'd stayed with her and had a wonderful time. I was a tad envious, but certainly didn't lose any sleep over it. He didn't just stay with her, he had escorted Sarah to a Charity Ball, and had even danced with a real princess.

This time, he was gone more than a week. We talked every night, and sometimes during the day. We now both carried cell phones, but he was the only one who had my number. I missed him terribly, and one night we even tried phone sex, but it was far from satisfactory for either one of us. I couldn't even get off. We needed each other's warm bodies.

As usual, he stayed with Sarah. They were really becoming palsy walsy. I had another twinge of jealousy. With her as his "sponsor", he was becoming "in demand" in New York's best social circles. He wouldn't accept any invitations, however, unless he could escort Sarah. This, no doubt, endeared him to her even more.

Planning ahead, she'd had a tailor make a housecall and measure Eric for both Black Tie and White Tie outfits. Although he complained to me, it seemed that Sarah had him totally under control.

When he was finally ready to head back West, he planned to stop in Denver and "pounce" on one of the last two on his list. He didn't know if he'd be there one day or several, and suggested that I meet him there.

"I know you have a hotel there that we haven't broken in," he reminded me.

"OK," I agreed, "I'll bring all the 'stuff' and meet you there. I'll ask Dan to make all the arrangements." We worked out all the details.

It would be one of the hotels that had been vacated by York, and I was anxious to see how the new operators were doing.

Eric was to leave New York on an early morning flight, check into the hotel, then meet with his victims. I would arrive in the afternoon and be waiting for him. It was also his birthday, which hadn't been mentioned.

We'd discussed the birthday issue before. I felt that my birthdays were celebrated with a great deal more enthusiasm by others than they were by me, and preferred that they be downplayed as much as possible. Eric agreed, but I could tell he didn't want his to be ignored or forgotten, by any means.

Annie and Ingrid were planning a surprise party for him that weekend, but I wanted to give him my little gift on his actual birthday. I'd noticed that most of the time he wore a sports watch, and had another that was a bit dressier. I wanted to get him something special. Not gaudy or ostentations. I looked at a lot of watches, and finally settled on a Patek. It didn't look expensive, gold with a black leather band, fairly large dial but paper thin. Only those who could afford one would even have any idea of what it was or its value. I had something engraved on the back.

Not being very good at waiting, the next 24 hours went by very slowly for me. This was our longest separation to date.

The hotel was one of those glass and steel buildings. The lobby soared, and although simply done, was spectacular. I was greeted by the manager himself who showed me to our suite. Eric's bags were dumped just inside the door, so he must have been running late.

The manager was was very accomodating without overdoing it, and invited me on a tour to show me the changes that were planned. They'd only taken over the hotel a few weeks previously. We agreed to set a time, later, for the tour, and I asked him about their restaurants. I told him that that evening was a special occasion for my "partner", and I wanted the best they had to offer.

He asked if he could handle everything himself, explaining that they had brought in one of the hotel chain's best chefs, and they would love to prepare a surprise menu for us.

That settled, he left, and I unpacked Eric's bags and my own. I could smell his unique aroma when I hung up his clothes, and got an instant boner. That wouldn't work. I took a cool shower and waited.

He burst in with a huge smile. I stood and grabbed him, planting kisses all over his face. Finally I hit his mouth, and that made the wait worthwhile.

"God, I missed you," he said, still holding on to me.

"Me too, more than you know."

We separated long enough for him to take his coat off, and it was pretty obvious that both of us were "happy" to see each other.

"Sit," I ordered.

"Here we go," he kidded, "I get home, and two minutes later you're bossing me around."

"Behave, dammit," I laughed back.

I made us drinks while he sat and watched, then joined him on the sofa.

"No business talk tonight," he said. "I just want to be with my MAN!"

I put my arm around him and said "Happy birthday, my love."

"You remembered! You never said a word."

"Of course I remembered. Here's a little something for you," I said, handing him the beautifully wrapped package.

The paper got ripped off and he opened the case. He looked at it closely then, in a hushed tone, "My god, it's a Patek. I've heard of them, but this is the first one I've ever seen. Thank you, thank you."

"Oops, slipped! I forgot, only one Thank You is allowed," he continued.

He took it out of the case and read the inscription. "I love you more every day too," he said. "This last week has been hell."

"Yeah, I'll bet! You and Sarah partying every night. I'm jealous."

He just smiled at me.

"What're we doing tonight, besides....?" he asked.

"Dinner first," I told him.

"If I have to wait that long, I'd better take a shower, a cold one."

Most tables "for two" are too small, not enough room for all the china, silverware and glassware. When a table "for four" is set for just two, it isn't intimate. The table we were led to was different than any I'd seen. It was like Goldilocks' porridge, just right.

When we were seated, we were handed a card. It was a hand-engraved menu listing, I counted, the nine courses we would be having. It was in French with English subtitles.

"You've been busy," Eric commented with a big smile.

"Wish I could take credit, but the hotel manager and the chef handled everything."

"Are they trying to get us drunk?" he asked, pointing at the line of wine glasses in front of each of us.

"Just mellow," I answered.

The first course arrived. Then the second, third, and so on, a different wine with each. The service was impeccable. Our waiter didn't hover, but all you had to do was "think" about something and he was there with it. There was a comfortable interval between courses, not a wait.

The food was fabulous. Classic French, and hell on the cholesterol I'm sure. We talked, no business, but a lot about Sarah and her escapades. For someone her age, she had boundless energy, and, according to Eric, a wonderful sense of humor.

"It's like I've known her all my life," he told me. "I'm closer to her than any other woman, except maybe my mother."

After the final course, the Chef emerged from the kitchen to take a well deserved bow. Our compliments were sincere and lavish. He was a friendly sort, and before he left, advised us that our dinner had been "compliments of the hotel." Regardless, I left several hundred-dollar bills for a tip.

A cart with liqueurs was waiting in the living room of our suite. "If I drink any more, I'll fall asleep on you," Eric laughed.

I offered to help, but he was insistent on "preparing" the spare bedroom. I sprawled on the sofa and waited. It seemed to take a lot longer than in the past, but I really didn't much notice.

He came to get me, and the ritual began. The tender kisses, the slow disrobing, and the generous spreading of the warm oil.

Standing, rubbing dick to dick, our tongues entwined, was too much for either of us. I started spurting first, Eric followed.

We staggered to the bed to enjoy the afterglow. "We're not done yet," Eric whispered in my ear. I groaned in agreement, holding him in my arms.

We took our time, but soon recovered. Eric sat up, and started stroking me with one hand. With the other, he played with my butt. "Mmmmmmmm, tight!" he said.

"Lack of use," I answered. "It's been a while."

"I missed you soooo much," he said, then groaned when I took his raging shaft in both of my well greased hands.

He moved over me, and I raised my knees. He took his fingers out and probed with the spongy tip of his dick. When he found the spot, he eased himself forward. I felt the head pass the tight ring, and wanted more immediately. I pushed forward impaling myself, feeling him pass my prostate, sending a thrill throughout my entire body.

Fully inside, he paused. I flexed my ass muscles, and he groaned.

The long strokes began. My body rose involuntarily to meet each thrust. Our tongues found each other, and we were completely one. We rocked together in rhythm, building. He moved up and down, side to side, probing my passage and setting me on fire. I could feel him swell, then back off when he changed pace. It felt so unbelievably good that I didn't want to end it by cumming.

Finally, it was time. The waves of ecstacy flowed through me, coming from the internal stimulation, my dick rubbing his abs, and from other parts of my body that weren't even being stimulated.

I reached the edge. I didn't plummet over, but skittered along it, a sensation I'd never experienced. My brain was in chaos, wanting to go over the edge but at the same time wanting this incredible "limbo" to last forever. I slipped over. It was a free fall, downward, outward, all at the same time, more intense than I'd ever experienced.

My brain finally recognized that Eric's dick was throbbing and pulsing inside of me. This set off another wave of pleasure.

We lay still as the aftershocks shook our bodies, his dick softening inside me. He raised up to gaze into my eyes. The love I saw there brought tears to mine.

We lay there silently, absorbing the wonders of what had just happened.

Eventually we were capable of moving. As I stood, I realized what an enormous load Eric must have deposited in me because cum was starting to run down my leg, something that had never happened before.

We scrubbed the oil off of each other, and after toweling off, I headed for the other bedroom.

"Not so fast," he warned. "There's more."

"I don't think I can stand any more," I pleaded.

"Go pour us a brandy, or something. I'll be right out."

I was obedient, but curious as hell about what was next. While I got us both Drambuies, Eric came out, turned the TV on and put a cassette into the VCR.

I handed him his drink and sat next to him on the sofa. He fiddled with the remote, then the TV dimmed. It came back up showing a room full of candles. The lighting was dim but adequate. It was the room we'd just come from.

Eric entered the frame, with me right behind. There was the oiling-up, then the rubbing and kissing. I could see myself convulse, then Eric do the same. You couldn't see me cum because of the camera angle, but Eric's stream shot out the side, going several feet in the air. This was better than any porn flick I'd ever seen!

The tape showed us moving to the bed. Now we were in perfect focus.

"This is going to get better," he said, pushing the "pause" button. "Be right back."

When he got up, his towel fell off, and his long dick was pointing skyward. I realized that mine was as hard as his.

He was right back, holding a stop-watch. "We're going to see how long these things really last," he giggled and pushed "play" on the remote.

It was a side view, elevated so you could see both of us full length. We watched ourselves rest, recover, and the foreplay. I couldn't help but gasp when I saw Eric positioning himself at my back door. His dick looked absolutely enormous.

He slid in, slowly. I'd "felt" this, but actually seeing it happen took my breath away. I could see my beatific smile as he pumped. So that's how I looked!

I was so engrossed in what I was watching that it took a tug for me to realize that Eric was stroking me. I reached for his. So far, we hadn't been making any comments, listening to our own groans and moans.

Eric's ass was gyrating wildly as he plunged into me, my hips rising to meet him.

I watched myself start to tense up. "There you go," Eric said. I was grimacing like I was in pain, my face tightened as I fought the long trip along the edge, then all hell broke loose. My whole body bucked and jolted, Eric's strokes faster and harder. He was grimacing too.

My bucking continued, throwing Eric, on top of me, around like a toy. From the look on his face, it appeared that he wasn't even noticing, riding it out, bucking himself, his hips pistoning his cock into me.

I couldn't believe how long this continued, arms flailing, both of our heads flopping around. Then the aftershocks, Eric jabbing into me to deposit every last drop and me meeting him, begging for more.

While we were watching all this, our fists on each other had sped up involuntarily, and with a sigh, both of us sprayed all over ourselves. Again.

"Hot, huh," he leered and bent over to lick up the gobs all over my chest.

"When did you come up with that bright idea?" I asked.

"In San Francisco," he said. "Remember, I told you I had an idea on how to time these things? We're going to have to replay that thing and see how long they lasted."

"And then, we're going to burn the tape," I told him.


To be continued.

AUTHOR'S CRY FOR HELP!

In future chapters, I will be getting into some rather involved legal matters, Civil and Criminal. Unfortunately, my knowledge on that subject is rather inadequate.

Are there any ATTORNEYS out there who would be willing to provide some very general help?

As always, your comments and suggestions are welcomed and used. Let me know if you want to be on my "alert" list for upcoming chapters orrinrush@yahoo.com

Next: Chapter 21


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