Exposed: Chapter 31
After the funeral, James threw himself into classes and getting Troy finished in time for the Trojan Games. James also shocked the tennis coach when he showed up at the tennis team's organizational meeting. Coach Jenks had been trying for three years to get James on the tennis team and had finally given up, here he was like a gift from heaven.
Of course, Jenks had to put on a show to make James earn his spot just like everyone else. Finally, Tristan Beck, a senior captain and, until James showed up, number one singles player, said, "Come on Coach, every senior and most of the juniors have been schooled by James in either P.E. or intramural tennis. The only thing I ask is that since I'm losing #1 singles, I get James as my doubles partner." Tristan's partner had graduated the year before and he hadn't been looking forward to who he'd get to replace him. Now, he felt he had a shot at a great year with James.
"James, are you okay being Tristan's doubles partner?" Jenks asked.
James smiled and said, "Okay by me."
"Good," Jenks said.
Since it was still turn-your-balls-blue weather at the beginning of the tennis season, several area teams had joined together to rent one of the local indoor tennis clubs for practice, and to host their first invitational meet of the year. It was a 15-minute bus ride from Mill Brook to Winchester where the tennis facility was located.
On the first day of practice, the team loaded up for the trip to the courts. James found an empty seat and put in his earbuds. He'd just turned on his workout playlist when Tristan sat down beside him. James smiled and gave him a nod but didn't take his earbuds out.
When the team got to the courts, they immediately started their warmups and then Jenks assigned courts so he could evaluate the players. James and Tristan played what would likely be the #2 doubles team. It soon became clear that James and Tristan's games fit well together, and that no one else on the team came close to their level of play.
After a half-hour of watching the team, Jenks called James and Tristan over, and said, "You two are going to have a great season, but after doubles 1 and singles 1 and 2, we ... there's no other way to say it, we suck. There isn't enough time for me to work with everyone before our first meet. So, I'm going to need you two to help with coaching. Tristan, since you're the captain, you and I will work with the varsity. James that leaves you with the JV, can you handle that?" James smiled and said, "Yes Coach." What Jenks didn't know was that James had spent much of his last four summers volunteering at his tennis club's Junior Tennis Camp.
On the bus ride back to Mill Brook, Jenks explained his plan to the team, and several of the JV players seemed excited that James would be working with them. James figured it was a bit of hero worship following his success during the swim season. Aside from James' inner circle, it wasn't widely known among the students how rich and powerful James had become.
When the bus got back to Mill Brook it was a mad dash to the cafeteria. By the time the tennis team went through the food line, the only other students in the dining hall were athletes. Brock, Kip, and Weston were sitting with the lacrosse team and Lance was sitting with the baseball team. When James walked by, Brock said, "Hey buddy, come join us." But James smiled and said, "Sorry, not my tribe." He then went and sat with the JV tennis players.
James was an immediate hit with the young tennis players who felt honored that a Senior and the best player on the team would sit with them. James took the time to get to know a bit about each of the JV players and to let them get to know him. Eventually, the big question was asked, "Are you really gay, and is it true that Brock Champlain is your boyfriend?"
James smiled and said, "Yes, and yes. Does that bother you?"
One shy little Freshman boy softly said, "Maybe a little."
James looked and him and in a non-threatening way asked, "Why is that, Anthony?"
"I guess it's the way I've been raised. My parents are very conservative, and my mom's father is a higher-up in the Southern Baptist Convention."
"I see," James said. "Let me just say to all of you, I intend to be a good teammate and a helpful instructor for anyone who wants my help. If I do anything to make you feel uncomfortable, please tell me. I don't want any of you to have a bad experience on the tennis team. Will that work for you, Anthony?" Anthony smiled and nodded.
For the rest of supper, conversation was light and there was a lot of laughter. As they were leaving the cafeteria several of the varsity players told James they wished they had sat with the VJ players.
On the way back to the dorm, Matt, one of the JV tennis players, ran up to James and asked if they could talk. "Sure, but it's a little cold out here," James said, "Let's go to the library." Matt hadn't said much at supper, and James wasn't sure what Matt wanted to talk about. James chose seats at a small private table, but still visible to the student library aide and other students.
At first, they just sat, but finally, Matt said, "My older brother, well stepbrother, is gay. He lives in Colorado with his mother. My Dad doesn't know that Giles is gay."
"What does your brother do?"
"He's a Sophomore at Colorado School of Mines, he's going to be an engineer."
"So, what has you concerned?"
"Every Summer, he comes to spend a week with me and Dad. Also, for the last two Summers, I've gone to spend a week with him and his mother. The thing is Giles is planning to tell Dad he's gay. I'm afraid that when he does, he won't be allowed to come to Connecticut, and I won't be allowed to go to Colorado."
James was used to having advice, answers, or possible options; but for this, he had nothing. "So, Matt aside from listening and being your friend, what do you want me to do?"
"Tell me why?"
James wasn't sure what Matt was asking, and said, "Why what?"
"Why does he have to come out now? Why can't he wait? Why can't he just keep that a secret?"
James thought for a minute and then asked, "How old are you, Matt?"
"Fifteen"
"It's three years until you are an adult, and probably more like seven until you aren't dependent on your father. That's a long time to ask your brother to deny who he is and live a lie."
Matt understood what James was saying, but it was still hard thinking about the possibility he would be cut off from Giles.
"I can't make any promises or guarantees about how your parents will react, but love is an amazing force that can change people in ways we never expected. I also know that it's very hard to stop determined people from communicating with each other in the world we live in. It might be hard, but you don't have to lose contact with your brother."
"You're a lot like my brother," Matt said. "He's confident and the kind of guy you just trust." James wondered how Matt would feel if he knew how many times that confidence was an act to cover up the fear of being discovered to be a phony.
"Hey, anytime you need to talk, I'm here to listen. You understand, anytime," and Matt nodded. They talked for a little longer and then Matt said he needed to go because he had a tutoring session to get to. He was about to leave the library to get his books when he stopped, turned around, hugged James, and then ran off.
When James got back to the dorm, there was a note from Brock saying he was in the library working on a project. Obviously, it was in a different section of the library so James hadn't seen him. So, James decided it was time to tackle "Things Fall Apart" by Chinua Achebe, another of the novels on the A.P. Literature list.
About an hour after he started reading, Brock came in shivering, "Fuck it's cold out there. I hate these Spring cold snaps, you think it's about to warm up, and then it kicks you in the teeth." Between when practice ended and then, a front had roared through, temperatures were dropping, and the wet, heavy snow was beginning to pile up.
Brock continued his rant about the weather, "Why in the hell did I decide to play an outdoor Spring sport in New England?"
"Because if you'd had gone to school in the South, you'd have complained about the heat during soccer season. Plus, you wouldn't have met me. Just go take a hot shower and that will warm you up."
Brock smiled and said, "I know another way to get warm."
James chuckled and said, "I've got another hour of reading."
As Brock stripped off his clothes, he said, "Fine, but if I get sick, you'll regret it. Mom says I'm a terrible pain in the ass when I'm sick."
"Then you must have a chronic cold," James said with a grin.
"No, it's lovesickness," Brock said in a sappy tone.
"Ew, ick. Who are you, and what have you done with my man?" James said and threw a pillow at him. Brock ducked it, laughed, and ran into the bathroom.
When Brock finished his shower he put on a T-shirt, but no underwear or sleep pants. James didn't know why he found that look so sexy, but it was hard for him to focus on his book with Brock parading around bottom-half naked. So, he closed his book and said, "Damn it, Brock Champlain, if I don't do well on the A.P. Literature exam because I missed a question about the Heart of Darkness, you'll...." James didn't get to finish his sentence because his lips and tongue were otherwise engaged.
The next morning the intercom in all the dorms came on, yes Mill Brook still had an intercom. It wasn't used often, but when it was, James couldn't help but think of the intercom announcements in the old Charlie Brown comic book Mr. Gregg kept on his desk. The announcement was that a tree limb had fallen and taken out the electrical service to the main building and classes were canceled for the day. A small generator had temporarily been hooked up to the intercom system allowing the announcement to be broadcast. There was a great cheer that went up from the dorms. It was also announced that breakfast would not be served in the cafeteria, and donuts would be delivered to the dorms. Again, there was more cheering.
"You know what that means," Brock said.
"You can catch up on your homework?" James said with a bit of a snark.
"No, it means we can catch up on our sex work."
"First of all," James said, "I don't think sex work is the term you want to use. Second, I don't think we're behind in the sex department. In fact, I think we've been working ahead in that subject. Third, I don't think Advanced Boyfriend Fucking is one of the A.P. exams I signed up for. You might be able to waste the day, but I have a shit load of reading."
As Brock was about to offer a rebuttal, he got a text, and when he looked at it he moaned. It seemed the ever-changeable New England weather was playing havoc with his day off. Although the day before was cold and there was a bit of an ice storm overnight, the temperature was expected to get into the low 50s by noon, and the lacrosse coach scheduled a 1:30 practice. To the message, he added, "Dress warm, we will be outside."
James laughed and said, "Poor baby. You should have learned how to play tennis."
The boys threw on some sweats and went down to grab some donuts. Mr. Gregg and Michael had coffee brewing and a kettle of hot water for tea or cocoa. Dean Meyers and the food service manager must have cleaned out the local Dunkin' Donuts.
After getting a couple of donuts and a cup of coffee, James went over to talk with Michael. "What are you doing over Spring Break?" James asked.
"My girlfriend and I were going skiing in Vermont, but we ended it."
"I'm sorry," James said. "I feel like I caused that."
"No, you didn't cause it, unless you were sneaking off to New York a couple of nights a week to fuck the bitch... Sorry, that wasn't very professional of me."
"Hey, I get it," James said sympathetically.
"Anyway, I canceled the trip and will likely just hang around in the City."
"Some of the guys and I are spending Spring Break at a resort Pierce International owns in the Canary Islands. Do you want to come along? Security is being provided by the European agency, so you would just be there for fun."
"I don't know," Michael said.
"Come on the temperature is in the 70's, there's a heated pool, and a sauna. Best of all the legal drinking age is 18, so we can go to the bars."
"I can go to the bars anywhere," Michael said.
"Yes, but not with us. Come on, you'll have fun. It will be good practice for this Summer, and best of all, it's all on my Pierce International account."
Michael smiled and said, "Sure, what the hell."
"Great. I'll get you the details once Axella finalizes them."
After donuts, James read some more of "Things Fall Apart," Power was restored to the main building around 11 a.m. and word went out that lunch would be served at noon. The cafeteria staff was able to put together a sandwich and salad bar, which wasn't bad.
Tennis wasn't having practice. The deal the teams had worked out with the tennis club was for Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. So, James planned on running on the track while Brock was at lacrosse practice. James saw a couple of the JV players and mentioned he was going to do some conditioning then head over to the tennis courts to hit a few balls.
The track ran around the soccer/lacrosse field, so he figured he'd get a chance to perv on the lacrosse boys, although in sweats, rather than shorts, they weren't that sexy. Actually, one player was wearing a long-sleeved Under Armour shirt and shorts: Weston. Weston had massively muscular legs and James figured they could generate heat like two Cummins diesels. He was about ready to start his second lap when he was joined by eight goofy Freshman and Sophomore JV players.
After they did a couple of laps, they headed to the tennis court. James said, "I'm impressed that all of you guys came out. How about we work on serving? Yesterday, I noticed that some of you are losing power in your serve because of a few technical flaws. I had some of those flaws and when my coach corrected them, it made a big difference in my power and accuracy."
James then showed them some drills the tennis camp he had attended used to work on with serves, and as the guys did them, he would make adjustments and corrections. Because he was used to working with young kids just learning to play tennis, James had a soft and affirming approach to making corrections. He was also very good at breaking down the service motion into easy-to-follow movements. By the time they finished, all the JV players had improved their serves and Matt and Anthony had improved a lot. James made a point of praising them as individuals and as a group. At supper, James was again the king of the JV, or as Brock would start calling them, his Tennis Guppies.
After supper, James went back to the dorm and was just getting ready to take a shower when Brock came ass-dragging in.
"How was practice?" James asked although it was obvious that it was brutal.
"It sucked," Brock said, as he pulled his shirt off.
"Fuck, you look like someone mistook you for a piñata," James said. "I hope you gave as good as you got."
"Yeah, it seems like there's always some asshole who thinks he can dethrone the king. This year it's Yale Walsh." Yale was a Junior, and a leader in a desperate search for followers. The kind of guy that was always yelling and jumping up and down on the sidelines. The kind of guy who was so excited and so out of control that when he was put in the game would immediately get a penalty. He was also a total coach ass-kisser.
"So did you put the peasant back in his place?"
"Yep, after the second time he hit me with a cheap blindside, I steamrolled him. Drove his ass into the ground. He's probably still trying to remember what year it is."
"Well, get undressed and we can shower together."
Brock smiled and said, "That's the best offer I've heard all day."
"It better be the only offer you heard all day," James said, "or I may have some ass-kicking of my own to do."
"I like it when my boy is being possessive."
"I'm your boy!? I think we may have some role adjustments to talk about."
"That's okay by me," Brock said, and then added "Daddy," as he wiggled his now bare ass at James.
James spanked it hard, and said, "We're definitely not going there!"
"Yes, master," Brock said and ran into the bathroom.
Once the water was warm, they both climbed in. James loved the smell when the hot water first hit Brock's sweaty body and it mixed with the steam. It was right up there with the smell of a just-opened bag of potato chips. James grabbed the soap and began washing and massaging Brock's back. "Damn, I love to massage these muscles," James said, as Brock purred like a cat being stroked.
After a while, James turned Brock around and pushed his arms about his head. Then he buried his nose in Brock's pits to get one last sniff of musk before washing it away. After washing Brock's pits and arms it was time for his chest. Damn, the stud had pecs James thought as he massaged Brock's chest and sucked on his nipples. Eventually, James worked his way down Brock's washboard abs and then dropped to his knees to give Brock's cock some special attention.
It didn't take long for Brock to push James away, and say, "Not yet. Not until you've fucked me." He then turned and braced himself against the wall. James did a quick soap, wash, and rinse of Brock's butt and crack. Soon James' face was buried between Brock's muscular cheeks, and his tongue was teasing Brock's hole. Brock's moan filled the bathroom and bounced off the wall tiles. James hoped that Kip and Lance in the next room couldn't hear Brock's moans, but even if they did, James was on a mission and wasn't going to stop.
Brock's moans only increased when James used some body wash for lube, slid his cock in, and began to fuck. What started slowly soon picked up speed until Brock's chest was smashed against the shower wall and James was jackhammering his ass. Finally, James released a massive load deep inside Brock. After five blasts of cum, James was on tiptoes trying to squeeze out the sixth. When it came, he had to wrap his arms around Brock to keep from falling to the floor.
"That was amazing, and now it's your turn," James said.
James turned Brock around, dropped to his knees, and swallowed Brock's hard and leaking cock. James knew all the signs of when Brock was getting ready to cum: the way his balls contracted, his short fast breathing, the small quiver in his left leg, and the tightening of his sphincter. After toying with Brock and not allowing his release, James finally decided Brock had waited long enough. So, he pushed his finger inside Brock, found his prostate, and triggered an orgasm that seemed like the final barrage of a fireworks show.
Eventually, James and Brock rinsed, dried, and plopped down on the bottom bunk. Even though it was only seven o'clock, it didn't take long for Brock to fall asleep. James wasn't tired yet, so he got up, put on some clothes, and went to see if anyone was hanging around in the lounge. He found Weston watching TV.
"So, how was your practice?"
"Good," Weston said, "It feels good to be the aggressor for a change."
"So why did Brock take such a beating?"
"I actually think Coach Watkins put Yale up to it, and that tomorrow it will be someone else taking shots at Brock."
"Why would he do that."
Weston hesitated, then said, "Let's just say that Watkins isn't woke."
"You think Watkins has a problem with gay players?"
"Not just gay players," Weston said. "Have you ever wondered why I'm the only minority on the lacrosse team?"
"I guess I hadn't thought about it."
"Don't take this the wrong way, but white guys never see what people like Watkins do. Hell, I'm betting that Brock thinks that Yale out of the blue decided he'd go after one of the team captains....You know Kurt LaFrance."
"Yeah, We're in several A.P. classes together. He's a nice guy but keeps to himself and his group of friends. "
"Does he remind you of someone else?" Weston asked.
"Vaguely," James said. Then added, I think his parents are lawyers in Washington, D.C."
"Yes, his father represents the Mohawk nation to the federal government. You know, a lot of people don't know that, because of intermarriage, LaFrance is a Mohawk name. Anyway, at the first lacrosse meeting of our freshman year, Kurt mentioned that his people had been playing lacrosse for hundreds of years. A week later, after a shit load of hazing, Kurt was running track instead of playing lacrosse."
"How does Watkins get away with it?" James asked.
"Because he's subtle, and he gets people like Yale to do his shit work. The asshole even got himself appointed to the Mill Brooks Diversity and Inclusion Committee as cover."
"So how did you manage to avoid his crap?
"I didn't. My freshman year was hell. I got limited playtime on JV; and in practice, I was the target for a couple of the varsity players. If it hadn't been for Brock and Kip, I would be running track as well."
"So, what changed things?"
"Between my freshman and sophomore years, I hit a growth spurt. My balls must have been on overdrive because I went from boy to man in eight weeks. Played hell with my complexion, and they didn't make a deodorant strong enough to cover my stink. Then during football, I made a name for myself as someone who could take a hit and give one as well. That year was also the first time my father was on the cover of Forbes and my mother heard her first big case as a judge."
"So, the week before practice, I walked into Watkins' office and threw down on his desk a copy of Forbes with an article titled The Big Apple's Newest Power Couple.' Then I said, You fuck with me this season and my parents will take everything you own down to your last jock strap, and then when you're living on the street, I'm going to track you down and kick your ass."
"Shit, that took balls."
"Like I said, they were in overdrive. However, the jerk is a pussy. The look on his face told me I was golden from that moment on."
"Do you think something like that would work for Brock?"
"No, Brock is too nice to pull that off, and even with you standing beside him, all it would do is ruin Brock's Senior season."
"So, what can we do?"
"Don't worry. Kip and I have this. We have a very good chance of winning the state tournament in lacrosse. So, tomorrow, Kip and I are going to march into Watkins' office and give him an ultimatum, either he backs off Brock and announces his retirement at the end of the season, or we quit. I think at least four other seniors will also quit, but either way, without Kip, Brock, and me, Mill Brook will be lucky to win a single game. Plus, if he doesn't agree, when the administration hears we quit and why, Watkins will be toast anyway."
"Damn," James said, "You play hardball."
"Fucking right, I do. I learned it from my dad. However, don't tell Brock what Kip and I are doing. He's a lover, not a fighter. At least that's what I've heard."
James smiled, then asked, "So why are you telling me all of this?"
"Because the other thing my dad taught me was to always have an extraction plan if the mission goes sideways. You're our extortion, I mean extraction plan."
As it turned out, Weston and Kip didn't need any backup. After initial resistance and a lot of bluster and bluff, Watkins surrendered, no doubt figuring it would be easier to get another coaching gig if he left Mill Brook `voluntarily' and with a possible state championship under his belt, rather than being fired.
So, after practice that afternoon, Watkins announced his retirement at the end of the season. After Watkins made his speech, Brock proposed dedicating the season to Coach Watkins and the team cheered its agreement. Only Weston, Kip, and James would see the irony.
With all the emotional and physical stress James had gone through since the semester began, he was running on empty when classes were finally dismissed for Spring Break. James, Brock, Kip, Lance, Weston, Malik, and Michael were headed to the island of Gran Canaria. Michael had picked up a rental van, and as soon as the guys had their gear loaded, they drove to a regional airport just outside Boston to board one of P.I.'s jets. It would be a seven-hour flight from Boston to Gran Canaria.
The guys left after classes were done. That plus the drive to the airport and the flight time, got them to Hacienda al Sol just in time for breakfast. While it was true that Hacienda al Sol was a resort, the only way to make reservations was through the Pierce International Executive Concierge Department. Aside from being a private vacation spot for the Pierce family, corporate executives, and board members, it was also used for entertaining clients and potential partners, rewarding employees for service to the company, executive retreats, and as a special getaway for VIPs: a long list of celebrities, sports figures, and politicians wanted an invite to the resort.
The resort had sent cars to pick up the guys and when they arrived at the resort, they were met by a woman in her mid-thirties.
"Welcome to Hacienda al Sol. My name is Isabella Leon, the assistant manager of Hacienda al Sol. If you would like, I can have your luggage taken to your rooms. Breakfast is being served in the dining room."
Between the flight and the forty-five-minute drive from the airport to the resort, it had been 9 hours since the guys had a meal, although there were plenty of snacks on the jet, they were a pack of hungry wolves. In addition to a buffet of fruit, pastries, and juices, resort guests could order from a variety of hot dishes. James had been researching the Canary Islands and decided to go with Toast Teror Chorizo, honey, and nuts. Teror Chorizo is a soft, spreadable sausage made with pork, spices, garlic, white wine, and paprika.
While they were eating breakfast, a man in his mid-forties and two teenage boys came over to introduce themselves. "I'm Prince Michael II, of Romania, and these are my son's Prince Michael III and Prince Constantine. Please allow me to express my condolences on the death of your father. James and I collaborated on several projects in Eastern Europe."
James stood and said, "Thank you. Pardon me for my lack of knowledge about Eastern Europe, but I was not aware that Romania is a monarchy."
Prince Michael II laughed and said, "Romania is a republic; however, the House of Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen hang on to the title, even if it is hollow. In real life, I manage the family investments and consult for Credit Suisse about Eastern European business and economics. That is how I met your father."
James looked at the boys and asked, "So what about you guys."
Prince Michael III said, "I'm taking a gap year, but next year will be studying economics at Columbia in the United States. I hope to assist my father with the family investments and join his consulting firm.
"Well," James said, "I`m sure we'll see quite a bit of each other then. I'll also be attending Columbia and majoring in economics."
Michael III smiled and said, "Perhaps we can spend some time together this week. It would be good to know someone before I arrive in New York."
"Absolutely, I'd very much enjoy that," James said. Then he turned to Constantine and asked, "What about you?"
Constantine said, "I have two more years of school, and then I plan to become a professional soccer player." Prince Michael II cleared his throat, and Constantine added, "However, on the off chance that I don't make it as a professional soccer player or a Formula 1 race car driver, my interest is in medicine."
James smiled and said, "Let me introduce you to my friends, I think you will have some things in common. After introducing the princes to the guys, James said, "Brock, Kip, and Lance are also soccer players, and will be playing college soccer next year. Brock at Fordham in New York and Kip and Lance at the University of Massachusetts. Weston will be playing football at the United States Naval Academy. And Malik will ... what have you finally decided to do?"
Malik said, "I will be attending Harvard, and plan to debate."
"And at the end of the table is Michael, who isn't a Prince, but he is our knight in shining armor. He normally provides security for Brock and me, but this week he's on vacation. It's our way of saying thanks for putting up with a couple of teenagers."
Michael III laughed and said, "There's an exceptionally large number of Michaels here at the resort, the manager and one of the masseurs are also Michaels. I hope that's not some kind of omen."
Michael II rolled his eyes and said, "Don't let this one start with the omens, magic, and monsters crap. What most people know about Romania is that it was once ruled by Vlad the Impaler, known in popular fiction as Count Dracula. Contrary to what he'll try to tell you, the Hohenzollern-Sigmaringens are not descended from Vlad."
The guys laughed.
Prince Michael II then said, "We have kept you from your breakfast long enough. So, we will say goodbye for now."
The guys all said goodbye.
Brock asked what the plan was for the day. James said he was planning to go to the room and rest, maybe take a nap, and then spend the afternoon hanging around the resort's pool and gym. He planned to start exploring the island the next day. The rest of the guys thought that was a good plan.
The Hacienda al Sol started life as a plantation, and it was still surrounded by banana trees. The building was Spanish colonial and many of the walls were stone and the ceilings had exposed oak beams. The suite James and Brock were assigned was more like a small apartment than a hotel room. On the first floor was a living room and a small alcove with a refrigerator, microwave, and coffee pot. The bedroom was a second-floor loft. It had a cathedral ceiling with exposed timbers. A dormer window captured the ocean breeze and provided a stunning view of the surrounding area. The bathroom featured a large shower, which immediately filled Brock's mind with impure thoughts. However, James' thoughts were soon turned to dreams when he stripped off his clothes, flopped down on the bed, and fell fast asleep.
What eventually woke James up was the realization that his dream about Brock sucking his cock, wasn't a dream at all. "Ummm babe, that feels so good," James said. "Why don't you turn around so we can each get some love." Soon the boys were cruising down Route 69. It didn't take James long to get Brock to release a massive load. James often joked that he could get Brock to cum just licking his ears. Then James put his hands behind his head and reveled in one of the best cums he'd had in weeks.
When they were in the shower, Brock asked, "How do you do that?"
"Do what," James said.
"Get me to cum first no matter how much of a head start I have."
"I'm just that good, and you are just that horny," James said. James wasn't about to reveal his secret. What he had discovered was that Brock's frenulum was particularly sensitive, and when combined with a gentle massage of his balls, it was more stimulation than the boy could resist.
Brock kissed James and said, "Thank you for finding me tied to that fence."
"Yeah," James said, "It could be Pickles Gates sucking on your cock rather than me."
"Ewww, that's a boner killer."
"Hey, we can do a test sometime to see which is more powerful, my cock sucking skills or the image of Pickles naked and on her knees."
"Not a chance, I don't want that crone anywhere near little Brocky, even in my imagination."
The boys laughed and finished their shower.
After lunch, the group put on their swimsuits and went out to the pool. They found a pool volleyball set and were playing when the princes came out to the pool. Brock yelled, "Hey, Michael why don't you play on this side and Constantine can play on the other side. So, it was James, Brock, Malik, and Michael vs. Weston, Kip, Lance, and Constantine. The boy's father picked a lounge chair to catch some sun.
The game was fun and competitive with neither team conceding any point. However, playing hard didn't stop James from checking out the princes. Constantine was cute but still very much a boy. However, Michael was a hottie who reminded James of the BelAmi boy Kirk Gauguin. If both boys took after their father, they would certainly be good-looking men.
James got a bonus piece of eye candy when Michael, his security agent, came out to sunbathe. James had never seen Michael bare-chested, and rarely when he wasn't wearing a coat, jacket, or some loose-fitting sweats. James guessed that was to make it easier to conceal his weapon. But now, without anything covering him up, James could see how lean and muscular Michael was, and he was impressive.
After they played volleyball for an hour or so, it was time for a break. All the guys ordered various beers, except Malik and Constantine who ordered sodas.
While they relaxed in the sun and drank their beers, James asked Michael what it was like to be a prince, and Michael said, "It's probably not what you imagine. Being a prince in Romania is not at all like being a prince in England. To start, the royal family does not have any official role to play and is not recognized by the government. My great-grandfather, Michael I, was the last real King of Romania, and he was deposed by the communists in 1947."
"After the ouster of the Communist dictator Nicolae Ceaușescu, my grandmother returned to Romania and began humanitarian relief efforts. She now lives in Elisabeta Palace in Bucharest, which is nothing like Buckingham Palace. We live in Zurich where my father works."
"What about your mother?" James asked.
"My parents are still married, but they don't live together. They get along better with an ocean between them. She is a project specialist for the United Nations Development Programme. She lives in New York, but she travels constantly, which is why Constantine and I live with our father. Although, I'll live with her while I'm at Columbia. It's easier for security reasons."
"That's the same reason Brock and I will be living with my mother." Michael gave James a funny look, and James said, "Brock and I are boyfriends."
Michael smiled and said, "I hope to find a boyfriend in New York."
James smiled, told him about Peter, and showed him a picture. Michael seemed very interested in Peter and said, "Let me give you my Insta account, and feel free to share it with Peter."
At four o'clock Michael II told the young princes it was time to get ready for supper. They were to be the dinner guests of the Romanian consulate. While the royal family had no official power or position, it wasn't unusual for Romanian diplomatic missions to invite them to a dinner party for local politicians and business people. Having a member of the royal family at the table added a sense of gravitas to the event and for Prince Michael it was an opportunity to do a little networking. Of course, the boys hated the events, but like good little princes they did their duty.
Over several months, James had noticed something peculiar about Brock and clean sheets, they produced an almost uncontrollable need to have sex. At first, James thought it had something to do with the scent of the laundry detergent, so he decided to experiment and change detergents. However, a change to scent-free detergent didn't make a difference. Eventually, James came to realize that it wasn't the smell washing gave the sheets, it was the smell it took away. After washing, the sheets no longer smelt like them, like Brock and James. Hot, sweaty, sloppy sex was the fastest way to return the sheets to the smell Brock found comforting and relaxing.
Of course, James had no scientific evidence to support his theory, nor could he find any conclusive research on the subject. In the end, it might just have been a case of coincidence and confirmation bias that created a link between clean sheets and hot sex, but he expected a vigorous and athletic sexual session that night, and Brock did not disappoint.
The next morning, James woke up a bit sore, thoroughly satisfied, and the sheets smelled like Brocky and Jimmy.
I hope you're enjoying "Exposed."
If you have enjoyed reading "Exposed," I hope you contribute to keeping Nifty.Org a place where I and other authors can share our stories. https://donate.nifty.org/
Also, if you would like to find other stories I've written, or am writing, check out https://www.nifty.org/nifty/authors.html#williammarshal