This story is purely fictional and is based solely on the author's imagination. Any connection between real people, or situations is purely coincidental. It depicts a love relationship between two men, both being of legal age.
The author reserves all copyright privileges. This work may not be reproduced, except for personal use, without permission of the author, and may not be linked to any pay sites.
Chapter 2
"Kenny," I set down the wine glass, and touched his naked shoulder. "What's the matter with you tonight? You seem so...distant."
"It's nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about." Kenny got up from the floor of our 'Cabin Paradise' and poured some more wine into his glass.
"Kenny, you can tell me. Maybe I can help." I pleaded, unsure where the sudden silence was coming from.
"You know, Russell, the cabin still smells the same as it did that first night. You remember?"
"Of course I remember. It was the first time we expressed our love for one another." The memory of it made my soft dick tingle awake.
"Yes, it was special wasn't it?" Kenny smiled at me and then turned to the window, staring out of it, as the bright flash of lightening announced the oncoming storm. "You know, Russell, I thought I'd never find happiness...true happiness. I just figured I'd die alone and unloved. But then, you stepped into my life." Kenny turned to me, softy smiling. "Life is fleeting, Russell, and it's over before you know it."
As the bright light faded, so did Kenny's smile.
I walked up behind him, wrapped my arms around his chest, and hugged his back tightly, slightly pressing my softened cock against his ass.
"You know you can tell me anything, Kenny. Please, what's going on?"
Kenny turned to me and our eyes locked for a moment, then he tilted his head down. "I need to go home." He looked up at me, gauging my response.
We had only been at the cabin a few hours and everything up to that point seemed to go really well, but I loved Kenny, and I would do anything for him.
"Well then, let's go home. We can be back in San Mateo in a few minutes." I rubbed the back of my hand against his cheek, and he tilted his head, snuggling my hand.
"No, Russell, I mean I need to go HOME." He turned from my embrace and again stared out the window. "Back to Birmingham."
"Birmingham?" If I had the wine glass still in my hand, I'm certain I would have dropped it. "Alabama? You want to visit your mom?" To say I was shocked would be an understatement. Kenny and I had talked about our families, although not in great detail. My parents had passed on, as had Kenny's dad, long before we even started dating. But, Kenny's mom was still alive, and the source of hard feelings, so I never pressed the issue with him.
Kenny turned from the window and again looked into my eyes. "No, Russell, I don't mean to visit..." His voice trailed off and he moved to the fireplace, kneeling on the floor in front of the bright, warm flames.
I moved in behind him, and kneeled down as well, and for a few moments, I simply held him, rocking softly.
Finally, I broke the silence. "I'm not sure I understand, Kenny. You said you need to go, but not to visit?"
"Russell..." His voice cracked. "Russell, I'm moving to Birmingham."
"WHAT?" I yelled, the reaction escaping my lips. "Are you insane? Have you forgotten everything you've told me? The pain and hurt down there? And your mother? She's the same one that said 'gays should be gassed like the Jews in Hitler's time!"
I looked at Kenny and could see the tears beginning to well in his eyes.
"Kenny, look. I know it's been awhile since you saw your mom, so maybe a visit is a good idea. Or hey, we could bring her out here? Stay with us for awhile, what do you think?" I'd try anything not to lose the man I loved.
"That won't be necessary," Kenny set the glass on the floor, and covered his face with his hands. "My mother is..." Kenny began to sob softly.
"Kenny, what is it?" I placed my arm around him and pulled him to me.
"She's dead, Russell." He finally uttered, barely audible.
The words hit me like a truck, and I didn't know what to say. So, for a few moments, I just softly rocked my man, trying desperately to ease his pain. I knew that they weren't very close, but this was the last of his 'family,' and that realization hit him pretty hard.
Kenny broke the silence when he said, "So, you see, I have to go back. It's up to me to run the family firm now."
I knew that all the arguments and pleadings in the world were not going to change his mind.
"I guess your mind is made up then." I said, half-pouting. I couldn't help myself. I sincerely wasn't ready to uproot us and move to Alabama. After all, it wasn't exactly 'Gay-Friendly, USA.'
Kenny looked at me and my heart sank into his eyes. I wanted to cry with him, but held it back.
I kissed him softly and then said, "Will you take me with you?"
Kenny's face instantly glowed and he threw his arms around me. "Oh, Russell, I knew you'd understand, I just knew it. Yes, yes, of course you're coming with me. Thank you, Russell, thank you!"
On the drive back to San Mateo, I convinced Kenny to take a slightly longer bereavement leave, rather than resigning. I would take some much needed vacation time and go with him to make final preparations for his mother's burial.
That night, Kenny and I tried to sleep, but with a constant flow of bad dreams, Kenny became restless, and we spent the rest of the evening just cuddling, neither of us uttering a word. Though our minds were spinning with infinite questions and scenarios of how this would affect us, neither of us spoke.
It was just about two in the morning, when Kenny slid his hand down my naked body. We became quite comfortable sleeping naked together and enjoyed the warmth of each other.
I looked down at his eyes, and he made an awkward smile. As he wrapped his fingers around my rising dick, he whispered, "Make love to me!"
I pulled him on top of me and our lips locked in a passionate embrace that I was certain lasted for 15 minutes.
All the while, I could feel his manhood growing and pressing against my own.
Kenny broke our embrace and moved down my body, gingerly pressing his lips to my skin as he moved, tingling every nerve in me.
One of the things that I had grown to discover in Kenny was that he was just as much a passionate lover as myself. His almost pecking kisses only caused my excitement and anticipation to grow, as well as my raging erection.
However, when Kenny reached my belly, his kisses increased in intensity. Indeed, his hunger for me grew, and his passion quickly turned to animal lust.
He worked his way down to my hard cock, now pointing at his face. He paused only for a moment, before completely engulfing my cock, with a new ferocious hunger that he'd never expressed before.
It was as though Kenny were trying to bury his pain in his lust.
Kenny continued to work my cock, up and down, faster and faster, growing more and more hurried and animalistic. On his last stroke downward, he bit the base of my shaft, and the shock soared through my body like a lightening flash. "Easy, Mister, I'd like to use that when you're done with it."
Kenny looked up at me, smiled devilishly and continued his oral assault on my cock.
Then, almost as quickly as he started he stopped. Kenny sat up, quickly draped his legs over me, and squatted down on my now throbbing cock, forcing it into him.
This was so unlike Kenny, and I wasn't at all prepared. The only lube was the remains of his spit on my dick. I felt my pole jab his ass and force itself inside.
Kenny moaned out loudly, a mix of pain and pleasure.
"Kenny..." I started to speak, but Kenny covered my mouth with his hand, stopping me.
He pushed his way further down, feeding my hard cock inside him, until he was seated on my pubic bush.
Normally, we wait a moment, allowing his ass to adjust to my intruder, but Kenny was not about patience. His animal lust, and a craving to escape his own reality, took over, and he slid upward, only to slam himself back down.
It was by far the roughest sex that Kenny and I had ever had, and as the sweat began to stream down his chest, his outward moans began to grow louder and more passionate.
Any pain he may have felt at the beginning was long past, and his eroticism had increased ten-fold.
Kenny was riding my cock hard and fast, and any enjoyment that I was receiving was oblivious to Kenny.
I watched as his dick bounced up and down, his streaming precum forming a thin line between the tip of his dick, and my belly.
"Ugh...Uhhhh...mmmm..." Kenny uttered, slamming my cock deep into his bowels.
I felt the walls of his ass tighten around me, and I knew I wouldn't be able to hold out for very long. I wanted to warn him of my imminent orgasm, but also knew that Kenny was, by now, in a completely different world; totally engrossed in his own escape, as though I weren't his life-partner, but merely a tool for his enjoyment.
Kenny began to arch backwards, and as my cock pressed hard inside him, his dick began to shower me with his hot cum, blasting rope after rope of his creamy nut juice across my skin.
He held his breath, and I could feel his ass tighten even more against my dick as his cock erupted.
I couldn't hold on any longer and felt my own cum race from my balls, and coat the walls of his ass.
Kenny continued to pump my cock, even though his was already beginning to soften.
Then, he collapsed on top of me, and I simply held him to me, the aroma of our sweat and seed filling the room.
His breathing softened, and then as my softening prick slipped from his ass, I heard him begin to sob again.
"It's okay, Babe, let it go...let it go." I cooed into his ear.
Kenny's tears returned, as the bliss of our passion escaped his body, and he once again, returned to his reality. "Why do I care so much?" He finally asked.
There wasn't an answer good enough to give. "Shhhh, it's okay, Kenny, I'm here for you."
At some point during the night, my lover and I fell asleep. I woke before the alarm and found Kenny snoring softly beside me. I rolled over, clicked off the alarm button and quietly walked to the bathroom, closing the door behind me.
After turning on the shower, I sat on the closed toilet and rested my head in my hands. I was beginning to wonder if I was going to be of any help to Kenny at all.
The door opened slowly and Kenny peeked in.
I smiled at him, trying to hide my own concern. "Good morning. I was going to let you sleep a little longer."
"Mind if I join you?"
"Of course not." I waved him in.
As we began to lather up in the over-sized shower, Kenny looked into my eyes. The same glow that I had fallen so deeply in love with had returned.
"Russell, Birmingham is not a very friendly place..." Kenny started as he rinsed off.
"I know, Kenny, I'll behave." I smiled back at him.
"No, no...it's not that," Kenny giggled. "In fact, I don't want you away from my side...ever! This will be hard enough to deal with, and I can't do it alone, Russell."
I hugged his wet body to mine. "Of course I'll be there every step of the way, Kenny."
As we took our seats on the plane, Kenny looked out the window.
"Nervous?" I asked.
"A little, I guess. It's been a long time."
"I'm here for you."
That was the only conversation we had the entire 7-hour flight from San Francisco to Birmingham. I just quietly held his hand during the flight.
As we landed in Birmingham, Kenny said, "Here we go." His demeanor changed and I could see the pressure building upon him.
We rented a car and drove to his mother's estate. When we arrived, I immediately felt as though I had dropped back in time. It was a scene cut from the movies. A large circular drive, well groomed grounds and the fine white house sternly presiding over the property.
Kenny put the car in park and shut it off, and we found ourselves just sitting there, looking up the tall 4-story white pillars that hung luminously over the large staircase.
"1883," Kenny said in a soft whisper, almost fearing the house would hear him. "An old Confederate built the house as a sign of his strength and power."
"It's beautiful," I conceded.
"Yeah, I guess so. But it's never been a very happy place." Kenny opened the car door and I opened mine.
As we began to climb the ominous stairs, Kenny said, "My father used to brag about how his children and grandchildren would grow up here."
"But I thought you were an only child."
"I am, and now you know why my father died so miserably. One son, and a fag no less. When I was 19, I moved out. It was a huge fight, and I vowed never to return to this hell house."
I patted Kenny on the back, consoling him.
"After I graduated from Santa Clara University, my father begged me to return to his law firm. 'It's a family business,' he claimed. Bullshit! It was his way of getting control of me." Kenny and I reached the top of the stairs and he turned around, looking out across the wide expanse of the property. "Sure looks peaceful, don't it?"
"Yes, it does, Kenny. It really does."
Kenny fished a key from his pocket, and I glanced at it as he swung it to the door. On the key chain was a 'skull and cross-bones' picture similar to what you see on a pirate ship. 'Symbolism is everything,' I thought to myself.
Kenny unlocked the door, and pushed the large wide door open.
As we walked across the inlaid marble floor, I expected to see cobwebs and dust. Not a single flake existed. The foyer appeared as though it had been freshly cleaned.
"Rebecca?" Kenny called out loudly, and his voice boomed and echoed against the walls.
I looked at Kenny and he smiled at me. "Housekeeper."
I nodded, as Kenny closed the large door behind me, and then pulled his cell phone from his pocket.
Kenny quickly punched in a number and held the phone to his ear. Then, after a moment, he said, "I'm here...fine, thank you. Yes, that's fine...very good, I'll see you then. Goodbye."
Kenny flipped the phone closed and stuffed it back into his pocket. "Estate Lawyer," he said, as he passed me.
All I could do was nod and follow.
As Kenny opened the French doors to the drawing room, a scarcely thin woman bounded down the large staircase to meet Kenny.
She was dressed in a typical maid's uniform, but the smile on her face took years from her. "Master Kenneth!" Her arms were around Kenny before he could even speak. Then, as she released her embrace, her smile faded and her haggard age returned. "I'm so sorry, Master Kenneth. Your mother was a sweet woman."
"Thank you." Kenny turned to me. "Rebecca, this is Russell. He's my roommate and will be staying with us while I'm here."
"I'll prepare the guest room immediately, Sir. Will you be dining at the regular time this evening?" Rebecca asked.
I looked down at my watch, which read 5:30. My body was drained from the lack of sleep, and petite lunch the airline served. The sound of a good meal made my mouth water.
"Yes, Rebecca, that would be wonderful. And please set an extra plate for Mr. Grandall. He'll be joining us as well."
"Very good, Master Kenneth." Rebecca scurried up the stairs, which was quite a feat considering what age she appeared to me. It was clear however, that she had resided with this family for some time, and knew of Kenny's arrival.
It was then that Kenny proceeded into the drawing room, and upon opening a cupboard, as though he had done so a million times, a large assortment of liquors and glasses appeared. "You won't find any White Zinfandel here, so we may as well make the best of it. Sherry?"
I was overwhelmed to say the least. "Yes, thank you." I knew Kenny came from money, though we never really talked much about it. Kenny was a successful attorney in his own right, but this was too much.
"Here you go," he said, handing me the heavy leaded-crystal glass, filled halfway with an off-amber liquid whose aroma met my nose before the glass met my lips.
Kenny gulped his glass down quickly, and then refilled it again. "I was sixteen before I was allowed in this room." He said, bitterly. "Adults only, Master Kenneth!" He gulped the second glass and slammed it down on the large dark oak desk.
It startled me, and I almost spilt my drink. I tried to make light of things. "Rather ostentatious, don't you think?"
"Ha!" Kenny laughed. "You haven't seen anything yet. Come on, I'll show you around. It'll be awhile before old Grandall gets here anyway!"
Kenny opened a side door in the drawing room, which led down a long, dark hallway. I set my unfinished glass down next to his, and followed him through the door.
As we proceeded through the house, I began to feel as though I were touring a funeral home. Dark wooded walls, and blood red velvets adorned the house. Even the artwork and tapestries were depressing in nature. There was nothing bright and cheery about this house, and as we proceeded through, I half expected to see ropes across the doorways, like some old museums have.
However, despite the darkness, I observed how Spartan the property was. So clean was the brass that it sparkled. Even the large chandeliers above glistened cleanly, despite its low luminescence.
After climbing two flights of stairs and walking down another long hallway, we reached the last door on the right. "Here we are," Kenny smiled for the first time. "This was my room," he said proudly as he swung open the door.
Kenny stepped back, as a guide might, and waved me in. "Go ahead. It's okay."
I hesitated for a moment, feeling very out of place, then proceeded inside.
As I looked around the room, my mood brightened, and I noticed it was the only room I had seen so far that had any hint of happiness. Several pictures of a much younger Kenny decorated the walls, along with trophies and ribbons. It was clear that the boy of a long ago had spent a great deal of time escaping his own reality, by drowning in a multitude of activities.
I looked at the wall border that adorned the high walls. "Carousel Horses?" I started to giggle.
"My mother hated this room. She never visited me here, and always insisted I come downstairs whenever she wanted to speak to me. My father wasn't overly pleased with my choice either, but I insisted. When the artist was commissioned to paint the border, my mother left the house, and stayed with my grandmother, until it was complete."
Kenny's face began to glow as he looked up at the multi-colored horses clinging to brass poles that hung on the otherwise pale yellow walls.
He was lost in a memory, and I knew it. I touched his shoulder and he started.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." I said softly.
"Robert Franklin." Kenny said. "You ever heard of him?"
I thought for a moment, and then shook my head. "No, I can't say I have."
"Not surprised, no one has. But he was the best artist in the world! He painted these." Kenny stood up on the bed, and reached high to touch the painted border. "Mr. Franklin sat in the middle of my floor for an hour, just staring at the walls." Kenny hopped down off the bed and squatted onto the dark wooden floor. Then, he giggled, as the memory flooded his mind and played back the day...
"What'cha doin'?"
"I'm watching the painting come to life," Robert said. "Come on, sit with me, I'll show you what I mean."
The nine-year-old boy sat next to the old man and then looked up at the wall. "I don't see no paint." Kenny giggled.
"Oh there isn't any yet, but you have to picture it, Master Kenneth. Picture what it will look like, and then you'll know if you're doing it right. Look," Robert pointed upward. "It could be clouds with a rainbow." He pointed to the other wall, "Fish in an ocean." He pointed to another wall. "Bright fall leaves falling to the ground, or," He said, pointing to the wall above Kenny's bed, "Carousel Horses to whisk you away to a bright and beautiful place."
Kenny's eyes lit up. "Yes, that's a great idea. Please, Mr. Franklin, the horses."
"What colors do you see, Master Kenneth?" Robert asked, again pointing up the wall.
"All of them!" Kenny said gleefully.
"All of them?" Robert confirmed.
"Yes, every color possible!" Kenny smiled and hugged the old painter.
"You're a good boy, Master Kenneth. A very good boy." Robert hugged the boy, and then retrieving a pencil from his pocket, climbed the ladder and began to draw the horses that would border Kenny's room.
"I can only guess now why he suggested it, but I'm so very glad he did. I used to lay on my bed and stare at those horses for hours." Kenny then looked up at me. "And you know what? He was right, those horses took me to places far, far away from here."
I could see a small tear come to Kenny's eye. But before I could wipe it from him, he uttered, "Oh my God." He jumped from the floor.
"What?" I said, surprised.
"It's still here. Look!" He pointed to the very edge of one corner.
I looked at the corner he pointed out, and there, in small script were two signatures. One was Robert Franklin, and as I looked closer, stepping up on the bed to aid me, was Kenny's signature...somewhat scribbled, but clearly his.
"Mr. Franklin insisted I sign it as well. I was so proud of it, and even when dad suggested that we repaint the room, I fought painting over the border. They never knew why, but respected my wishes.
That summer Mr. Franklin died. I cried for two days, and when I wanted to go to the funeral, my mom threw a huge fit. Said, 'No boy of hers was going to attend a nigger funeral.' I was crushed. It took me a long time to get over that, and I never did forgive her.
Mr. Franklin opened my eyes to the world, and all its possibilities, and I never got to say goodbye."
Kenny slumped down on the bed and hung his head.
My heart sank and I sat next to him. He buried his head in my shoulder and I held him, softly cooing the bad memories away.
"After all these years," Kenny finally said, "It still hurts."
"Master Kenneth?" Rebecca called from down the hall.
"In here, Rebecca," Kenny called out, wiping his eyes, and straightening his posture.
"Mr. Grandall is waiting for you in the Foyer, Maser Kenneth." Rebecca announced as she entered the bedroom.
"Thank you, Rebecca, I'll be right down."
Rebecca left the room and Kenny turned to me. "We all have to grow up sometime, Russell." He got up from the bed and led us out of the bedroom, closing the door behind us like some private vault.
As we proceeded down the stairs, my heart felt for Kenny. Here, in this house of many memories, he was still that curious and bright nine-year-old, now faced with so many adult decisions.
However, Kenny was raised well in southern Alabama, and as we entered the Foyer, Kenny put on a new air of distinguished demeanor that caught me off guard.
"Mr. Grandall!" Kenny said loudly. "Good to see you again," sticking out his hand.
Mr. Grandall looked even frailer and certainly older than Rebecca, and I almost giggled to myself at his appearance. With white hair and thinning face, exposing his cheekbones, Mr. Grandall appeared as though he would be the next to drop like a fly. "Master Kenneth. My condolences on your loss." He spoke softly and timidly.
"Thank you, Sir. May I offer you a drink?" Kenny asked, waving at the drawing room.
"Yes, thank you, Master Kenneth."
As we sat in large leather chairs, Mr. Grandall suddenly realized that he and Kenny were not alone. He eyed me carefully.
"Oh, Mr. Grandall, please excuse my ill manners. This is Mr. Russell Tibbs, my financial consultant. He'll be assisting me during my stay."
As Mr. Grandall looked me over, scrutinizing the stranger before him, Kenny winked at me and nodded.
Okay, so I was going to play his 'financial consultant.' So be it. I figured a few days of playing the 'straight man' weren't going to hurt anything. Then, I could go back home to San Mateo, where nobody gives a shit if you're gay or not.
"Hmph," Mr. Grandall uttered, and then turned back to Kenny. "We have several things to go over, Master Kenneth, so let's get started."
Mr. Grandall proceeded to lay out the details of the estate, including all properties here and abroad; companies, specifically outlining the family law firm located downtown; and equities totaling over eighteen million U.S. dollars.
When I heard the figure, I just about wet myself, but Kenny didn't even flinch. He'd heard of his family's wealth before, but it was merely talk then. I wasn't sure how he could remain so calm. That was, until Mr. Grandall's next statement.
"As the sole beneficiary of the estate, it is your responsibility to ensure that the law firm must not be sold, but must be maintained under the family name for a duration no less than one year, or forfeit the entire estate to the charity listed below."
BINGO! Kenny and I looked at each other. I was beginning to see why Kenny had withheld any reaction to the will.
Without missing a beat, Kenny said, "Is there anything else, Mr. Grandall?"
"Well..." he flipped through the pages of the document on his lap. "Not really. The rest are contingencies in the event of your death prior to your mother's. So, it really doesn't apply now."
"Very good then," Kenny stood from his chair. "Rebecca will be serving dinner soon. Shall we adjourn to the dining room?"
"Oh, thank you, that's very kind," Mr. Grandall said as he gathered the documents together. "But I'm afraid I can't stay for dinner. I have important papers to file on behalf of your estate tomorrow, and I still have some preparation to do. Perhaps another time?" Mr. Grandall stacked the documents on the desk and extended his hand.
"Another time then," Kenny shook the old man's hand.
"Good evening, Master Kenneth. Mr. Tibbs," he glared at me through cold steel blue eyes.
"Good evening to you, Sir," I said smiling as I stuck out my hand.
Mr. Grandall let out his classic "Hmph" and walked past me, without shaking my hand.
When Mr. Grandall left, Kenny closed the door and leaned against it.
I looked at him, still in shock. "Eighteen million dollars?"
"I know, pretty wild, huh? We'll have to visit the law office tomorrow. Good thing you packed your suit, Mr. Financial Consultant!" Kenny began to break out in laughter, and although I wanted to punch him in the arm, I couldn't help but get caught up in his laughter.
"Dinner is served, Master Kenneth." Rebecca announced, interrupting our laughter.
"Thank you, Rebecca. Mr. Grandall has declined our dinner invitation, Rebecca." Kenny said, trying to calm his laughter.
"Very good, Sir. I'll remove his plate."
"Rebecca?" Kenny paused and looked at me. I nodded, knowing what was coming. "Rebecca, how about you join us for dinner?"
"Me, Sir?" Rebecca looked stunned, as though Kenny had just asked her to strip naked and dance in front of us.
"Yes, you. I'd love to catch up on what's been happening around here, and you seem to know more than anyone else."
Rebecca shook her head; the mere invitation alone was against everything she had been taught. 'Hired help never eat with the masters.'
Kenny walked over to her and placed his arm around her shoulders. "Now, Rebecca, I insist and I won't take no for an answer. Go on now, and Russell and I will be right in."
Rebecca looked at him again, gauging whether he was serious or not. "Yyyy...yes, Sir," she finally stammered, leaving us alone in the Foyer.
"I hope you're hungry," Kenny said, smiling more than I had seen him smile so far this trip. "Rebecca always makes sure there's plenty of food!"
Kenny led me down the hallway to the dining room.
Tomorrow would be an interesting day, I was certain, but for tonight, I'd enjoy Kenny's southern hospitality.
I hope you're enjoying my story of Russell and Kenny. I welcome comments and questions, so email me at mycandlelight_dreams@yahoo.com I also have other stories posted on Nifty. If you'd like the titles, just ask me.