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 4
I loosened my tie, slipped it from my shirt and tossed it across the bed. I was about to unbutton and remove my shirt, when my door opened.
I turned and saw Kenny dressed only in a robe. "I just hate to shower alone."
That was my cue to join him in the shower, and he smiled devilishly at me, as he passed me and headed for my private shower.
I quickly undressed; tossing clothes like a whirlwind, and practically ran for the shower.
Despite my speed, the bathroom was already filled with thick steam, and I could barely make out Kenny's naked body, leaning against the back wall, as the showerheads sprayed and massaged his body.
I opened the door and stepped in, and as soon as I closed the door, Kenny pulled me to him, locking our lips together, and his hands all over me passionately.
My dick began to rise, brushing against his leg to meet his dick.
Finally, Kenny broke our embrace, and began whispering to me, barely audible over the shower spray. "Seeing you at my father's firm all day, I could barely keep my hands off you. I wanted to throw you on that fucking conference table and fuck you 'til you screamed."
All the while, his hands continue to thoroughly explore my chest, back, hips and crotch.
Kenny finally focused his hand on my dick, squeezing it to full attention. Then, he kissed me gently on the lips, and then knelt down in front of me.
"Mmmmm, yes, Kenny." I cooed as he slipped my hard cock into his starved lips.
Kenny wasted no time in getting into a hard and glorious rhythm on my cock. Kenny was hungry for my nut cream, and he let no doubt about it.
With his lips locked around my shaft, his left hand cupping my ass and brushing my love hole, his right hand stroking his own cock, my mind drifted into the heavenly bliss created by the steam, Kenny's mouth, and the sounds of our wet skin.
I moved my hands against the back of Kenny's head, and began fucking his mouth like I couldn't get my dick shoved down his throat far enough.
I could feel Kenny start to gag, so I quickly pulled from him, only to have Kenny grab my ass cheeks with both hands and pull me back into him.
He looked up at me; and softly nodded as if to say, "Feed me, Russell."
I would not let my lover down, and I thrust my cock into him, feeling the tip of my now aching cock into his throat.
"Oh fuck, Kenny...this feels so great. Mmmmm, yeah, suck it down...suck that dick!" I moaned, building my rhythm.
Kenny skillfully drew his breath each time my dick slipped from his throat.
Then, Kenny softly squeezed my scrotum, encouraging my balls to give up their precious nectar.
My balls responded, and I felt my load race from its storage and slip from tip, delivering my hot man cum directly to Kenny's stomach.
"Uuuugghhhh," I moaned out loud as I emptied my sac into him.
Kenny pulled back a bit, coating his tongue with the last of my seed. Then, Kenny moved up my body, and again, locked his lips to mine, and parting my lips, sharing the last of my tasty load with me.
As soon as the flavor of my cum hit my tongue, my hunger for more kicked in. It was my turn to feed, and Kenny would be my nourishment.
I moved down his body, planting kisses as I went, quickly arriving at the source of my much-needed sustenance. His dick was throbbing and as I encircled it with my mouth, it jumped inside me.
Kenny wasted no time, interlinked his fingers behind my head, and began fucking my face with the same fury and eagerness as I had shown to him.
My hunger did not have to wait long to be sated, as I felt his nuts tighten, and Kenny delivered the first shot of his hot white juices into my mouth.
I swallowed hard, waiting for the next shot, which quickly followed, coating my tongue with its salty-sweetness.
I swallowed again, each time quickly being refilled with my lover's delicious cream!
Kenny's breathing returned to normal, and as I let his softening dick slip from my lips, I squeezed at the very tip, milking the last of his seed from it.
Kenny pulled me up to him and hugged me tightly. Then he turned to me, kissed me softly on the cheek and whispered, "What's for breakfast?"
I couldn't help but giggle and Kenny started laughing too.
After all this time, he managed to remember what I feared most of all. Yet, Kenny never left, but stayed with me, and breakfast was always a wonderful treat.
That night, Kenny threw off his airs and slept with me in my bed. He woke early, kissed my cheek and whispered, "I'm going back to my room. I'll see you at breakfast."
I looked up at him and smiled. The moonlight glow that encircled his head reminded me of that first night in the cabin. I quickly hugged him to me. "I love you, Kenneth Schilte!"
"I love you, too." He kissed me again, quietly slipped from my bed and walked to the door. "See you at breakfast," he whispered, blew another kiss at me, and quietly walked out the door, closing it behind him.
I laid my head back on the soft pillow, thinking how lucky I was to find Kenny, and never wanting this love to end.
I was certain that I hadn't fallen back asleep, however, Rebecca's knock on my door proved otherwise.
"Breakfast is served," she announced.
I opened my eyes, rubbed them a moment, and then called out, "What time is it?"
"Six o'clock, Mr. Tibbs. Master Kenneth wanted breakfast served early this morning."
"Thank you, Rebecca, I'll be right down." I kicked the covers from me, and the cool air suddenly reminded me I was stark naked. I threw a robe and slippers on and proceeded downstairs.
"A bit early for breakfast, isn't it?" I smiled at Kenny, who was already half dressed and munching on a fresh bagel and cream cheese.
"Well, we need to get to the office early today. We have that meeting at nine, and I still want to get some issues settled with Jackall."
"Ah, yes," I snickered. "Jackall. What do you think of that guy?" I grabbed a blueberry bagel and poured some orange juice.
"He's an asshole, just like I remember when mom first put that fucker in place."
"Gosh, Kenny, don't hold back...tell me how you really feel." I jabbed him in the ribs before sitting down.
"Kenny? How attached are you to San Mateo?"
"What?" The question came from nowhere, and I had no idea where this was headed.
Kenny was about to speak, when Rebecca entered the room. "Charles says that the Mercedes is ready in the drive for you, Master Kenneth."
"Thank you, Rebecca."
She turned to leave.
"Oh, Rebecca. I almost forgot. I need to make sure that the services are finalized and that the wake has been announced." Kenny said.
I suddenly felt a bit ashamed. I'd forgotten the real reason we were there. The funeral. I was glad to see that one of us had a clear head.
"Yes, Sir. Four o'clock today, just like you requested." Rebecca nodded.
"Excellent. Be sure that Mr. Grandall is present. Send Charles to retrieve him if necessary."
"Yes, Sir." Rebecca nodded again, and left the dining room.
I looked at Kenny.
"He needs to know that I'm taking the instructions of the Will seriously, but I don't want him in the firm. I'll make my announcement during the Eulogy today." Kenny said, matter-of-factly.
"Kenny? Is that the appropriate place?" I asked.
"Good as any. Well..." he paused, gulping down the last of his bagel. "Need to finish getting dressed. How long before you're ready to go?"
"Twenty minutes okay?"
"Great." Kenny walked past me, kissed me softly on the top of the head like you would a child, and left me alone in the dining room.
A large dining room can seem very quiet...deathly quiet, in fact...when you sit there alone.
I couldn't take the silence. I grabbed the last of my bagel, gulped down another swig of my juice, and returned to my room.
In twenty minutes, I was showered, dressed in another of my suits, and waiting for Kenny by a large jet black Mercedes.
The front door opened and Kenny bounded down the steps, like he'd done so for years. Just another day at the office, or so it appeared.
He clicked a button on his key-remote, and the locks popped up.
We hopped in and Kenny sped us off to the firm. The time on my watch read 6:45 AM.
We arrived at the office and as we parked the Mercedes in the lower garage, a security guard greeted Kenny. "Good Morning, Mr. Schilte."
"Good morning. Let Mr. Jackall know that I've arrived, as soon as he gets here, please."
"But, Sir..." The guard said, locking the entrance door behind us. "Mr. Jackall is already here. Top floor."
"Thank you." Kenny said, as we made our way to the elevator.
Now, Kenny and I spent most of the day on the eighth floor, with the exception of the 'top managers meeting,' which was held in an even darker conference room on the ninth floor.
Kenny smiled as he clicked the button for the ninth floor. "Ooooo, this should be fun!"
I wasn't sure what he meant, but I had a feeling.
The elevator doors 'dinged' and we stepped onto the marble foyer, in front of a set of large glass inner doors.
Kenny led me directly to Jackall's office, a rather fancy corner office.
"Well, Jackall, I'm impressed that you beat me here." Kenny said, rather loudly, startling Jackall from his chair.
"Good morning, Kenny. Yes, well, I had some things to catch up on. All those meetings yesterday put me a bit behind."
"Well, not to worry. I'm certain you'll catch up." Kenny smiled. It was a snide comment and Jackall and I both knew it. But, Jackall wisely let the remark go. Kenny sat in one of the leather chairs facing the large oak desk. "I remember the first time I came into this office," Kenny started. "My father sat right where you are now, and he said to me, 'Kenneth, a firm is based on trust, knowledge, experience, expertise, a higher moral code, and above all, integrity!' He was right. Too bad I was too young to know it." Kenny got up from the chair and walked to the window. "I've seen all kinds of people in my life, Jackall, from all walks of life. Rich, poor, clean, dirty..." Kenny paused for effect, and I swallowed hard. I wasn't sure I needed to hear this. "Black, white, gay, straight..." Kenny continued. I knew why he said that part.
"I've seen people so far down on their luck that they don't know which end is up. I've seen little kids with guns, fearful that tomorrow won't come. I've seen adults curled up in balls, hoping that tomorrow won't come." Kenny walked from the window and sat back down. "I've seen the guilty go free and the innocent killed, Jackall. I thought I'd seen it all."
Kenny glared at Jackall, and all the poor man could do was stare back; a blank look on his face.
"Then I came home, Jackall, and saw something yesterday, in my firm..." Kenny pointed to his own chest. "That I never thought I'd see."
"I...I don't understand, Kenny." Jackall started to say.
"That's right, you don't understand. And that lack of understanding has put this firm in a very compromising position." Kenny got up from the chair again and walked over to a picture on the wall. He looked closer and I could almost see a tear forming in his eye. "Do you know who this is next to my father, Jackall?"
The picture was in Jackall's office. Had been since it was Kenny's father's office. A wrong answer to Kenny's question would only have added insult to injury. So, Jackall remained quiet.
"That was Lester Hannibal." Kenny said proudly, tapping the glass with his finger.
I quickly searched my memory, but the name meant nothing to me. I looked over at Jackall, and clearly the name meant nothing to him either.
Kenny then looked at Jackall, and seeing the lost look on his face, quickly angered. "Mr. Lester Hannibal was a black man, Jackall, and not just any black man. He was an honored and respected black man from Greenville!" Kenny turned back to the photo. "He was my father's first case in this city. The first of many, did you know that?"
Kenny turned to Jackall who remained still.
"He won that case, Jackall. Did you know that?" Kenny softened his voice a bit. "He won because he never lost his integrity. Never looked down on anyone, no matter what. He treated people like human beings..." Kenny paused again.
Kenny quickly turned and glared at Jackall. "Human beings," he repeated, "and not case numbers!"
Kenny turned to the picture again and whispered, only audible to myself, "I miss him." I wanted to rush to him, but knew to stay put. Kenny subtly wiped a tear from his eye and then turned back to Jackall. "I want you out of this office, Jackall, by noon today."
Jackall's jaw almost dropped to the floor. "Now see here, you pompous little punk, I've worked my ass off at this firm for over five years."
"Yes, yes you have, Jackall. And frankly, that was four years too long. You seem to think that this visit home is my first. But it's not. I've known about you for a long time now, and I've been well informed of your decisions in this firm. You're arrogant, snotty, frankly, your legal skills leave a lot to be desired, and if it wasn't for the other associates in this firm, you'd have driven it right into the fucking ground." Kenny leaned on the desk, his palms down, his face nearer to Jackall's reddened face. "And I'll tell you one more thing, Jackall. If it wasn't for me, your Clyde case would have buried you."
The color drained from Jackall's face. He slumped back into the chair, as though he had been shot. He was silent again.
"So, noon today, Mr. Jackall. You'll move into an Associate's office on the eighth floor, and never return to this office. Understand?"
Jackall simply nodded.
Kenny then smiled. "Hey, come on. Buck up. Tell the staff you want to be closer to the real action! I'm sure they'll believe you. After all, you've earned their trust, right?" Kenny began chuckling as he nodded toward the door, giving me my cue that it was time to leave.
As we reached the door, Kenny turned to Jackall. "By the way, that nine o'clock meeting? Don't embarrass the firm by interrupting it. You're not invited." Kenny closed the door, leaving Jackall to his thoughts.
"Well," Kenny winked at me, "That was pretty effective!"
Brian Stills sat silently in his chair as he looked around the large and rather formal conference room. The table where he sat took up most of the room, easily seating twenty-five people. There were black leather chairs all around it, exactly like the one he was seated in.
Brian cautiously looked around the room. He felt so out of place, his heart began to quicken. He admired the large paintings on the walls around him. They appeared to be scenes from courtrooms. One was a large judge, dressed in traditional black robe, raising the gavel to strike it on the bench. One was a full jury box, the faces barely distinguishable, but Brian noted that various ethnicities were used.
Brian's eyes were drawn to the end of the room, where a long table held a large coffee maker and a water cooler. Several china cups were arranged upside down, waiting for use.
Brian smacked his lips a couple of times. The water looked inviting, but Brian was afraid to move. He swallowed hard; hoping the dryness caused by his nerves would subside.
Brian was just about to gather his courage to retrieve some water, when the door opened.
"Good morning, Mr. Stills." Thomas gleefully greeted Brian.
"Good morning, Mr. Edwards," Brian said softly, almost ashamedly.
Thomas walked over to Brian's side of the table and took a seat next to him. "Mr. Stills, our Senior Attorney, Mr. Schilte will be joining us shortly."
Brian's eyes widened.
Thomas continued. "It's okay, Mr. Stills. You remember Mr. Schilte from the lobby, right?"
Brian nodded.
"Good. You just tell him exactly what you told me, okay?" Thomas patted Brian on the back.
Brian started to speak, but his throat tightened.
"Let me get you some water, all right?" Thomas asked.
Brian nodded again.
The coolness flowed down Brian's throat, and he could feel his dryness disappear.
"Thank you," Brian said, nervously smiling at Thomas.
"You're welcome. Now, let me get you a writing pad and pen, so you can keep some notes as we talk, all right?" Thomas always asked permission of Brian before doing anything.
Thomas could have slammed law books on Brian's head, but asking first, Brian would have said yes to anything.
Kenny stopped me just short of the doors. "Pay close attention on this one, Russell. I'm going to want your advice later."
I nodded and Kenny opened the door. "Good morning, Mr. Stills. I trust you rested well."
"Good morning, Mr. Schilte." Brian stood up in respect.
"No, no, please, be seated." Kenny closed the door and took the seat exactly opposite of where Brian was seated.
Brian sat back down.
I chose a seat a few chairs down, so I could observe and listen, but seemed in the background.
"Okay, Mr. Stills," Thomas said softly. "Just exactly like you told me."
Brian sipped his water again, cleared his throat and then began telling us his story.
It seems that Brian Stills lost his job a few months ago, as part of a pretty big layoff in one of the local factories. Not a legal case in itself, but then Brian began to outline some of the events leading up to his inclusion in the layoff. Brian was a dedicated worker, always on time, never absent, even worked overtime for free.
Kenny's eyes lit up. So did mine for that matter. Back in California, a company could get crucified for not paying overtime.
Then, as Brian put it, the company began to isolate Brian, accusing him of theft, which was never proven; insubordination, when he listened to opposing instructions from same level managers; and finally, poor work performance.
Brian hung his head down. "I don't understand," he began to cry. "I've never had a bad review."
Thomas produced copies of employee evaluations that Brian had brought in. Kenny quickly glanced through them and then handed them to me.
As I scanned the documents, I was amazed. Each section contained glowing remarks of Brian's performance, cooperativeness, and willingness to excel, beyond the company's expectations. This was not a 'poor performer.'
Brian continued to explain that because of the layoff, and the fact that he wasn't able to get a good reference from the company he worked over 6 years for, he still wasn't able to find another job. And most recently, Brian had been evicted from his home; now staying at a local shelter.
I looked at Kenny, and he turned to Brian. "I understand this is not the first time you visited our office, Mr. Stills."
Brian continued to bow his head. "Yes, Sir."
Kenny continued. "I understand you even met with Mr. Jackall regarding this matter, is that correct?"
"Yes, Sir." Brian said again.
"And Mr. Jackall informed you that this firm would be unable to help you, is that correct?"
Brian paused for a moment and shook his head.
Kenny asked, "Mr. Jackall tell you that this firm WOULD help you?"
Brian shook his head again. "He said..." Brian paused.
"It's okay, Mr. Stills. Mr. Schilte already knows the answer, he just wants to hear it from you." Thomas assured him in a soft voice.
Brian raised his head. "Well, Sir, he said that 'a no-good nigger ain't worth his time,' and he kicked my black ass outta here." Realizing he'd swore, Brian quickly tightened his lips, ashamed for speaking in such a way.
I was stunned. It was the second time I'd heard such blatant disrespect and racism in this office. Kenny, however, was not at all surprised. He did indeed appear to know what Brian was going to say.
Kenny stood up from the chair. He placed his hands on the table, similar to how he'd done in Jackall's office. I was prepared for the worst, but Kenny's voice came out soft and reassuring. "Mr. Stills, I'm very proud of you. I wish every one of my clients were as upstanding a citizen as you. I wish every one of the people that work for me were as good and decent as you. But the truth is, they're not. But you can bet that you won't experience that type of mistreatment in this office ever again! You have my word."
Kenny stood upright and looked down at Thomas. "Mr. Edwards, see to it that Mr. Stills is relocated to one of our visiting apartments, and begin the initial declarations on this. I want a brief by tomorrow."
"Very good, Sir." Thomas stood up, and gently pulled on Brian's arm.
Kenny looked at Brian and said, "Mr. Stills, we are going to help you. Thank you for giving us a second chance." Kenny stuck out his hand and Brian happily shook it.
"Thank you, Sir. Thank you."
Thomas shut the door on their way out.
"Can you believe this shit?" Kenny asked, slumping back down in his chair.
"Good thing this isn't California, Kenny."
"No shit. And Jackall! That Son-of-a-Bitch is trying to bury this firm!"
"Maybe." I said, sifting through the copies again.
"What do you mean 'maybe'?"
I produced a single sheet, which was a form letter, addressed to Stacey Adams at the company Stills worked for, signed by Jackall. It simply read, "We have met with Mr. Brian Stills, and feel that there is not sufficient grounds by which this firm can represent Mr. Stills."
"What the fuck is this?" Kenny asked me.
"Well, if I was a betting man," I looked at Kenny. "I'd bet that Jackall has an inside on this."
"Fuck! You really think so?" Kenny cupped his head in his hands. "Jesus, Russell. Maybe I've taken on more than I can handle."
"Don't give up so easily. Your father didn't and I don't think you should either!"
My words hit home and Kenny looked at me. Then a new sparkle came into his eyes. "You're right, and this letter may be just the ticket!"
Kenny rose from his chair and raced out of the conference room.
"I said not to worry about it," Jackall almost screamed into the phone. "I've got it under control." There was a pause and then Jackall stood and yelled into the receiver, "Are you threatening me?"
He could feel his temperature rising and his eyes widen.
"You don't know who you're fucking with. If I go down, you go down!" He slammed the phone down, just as Kenny walked into the office.
"Another satisfied client?" Kenny smirked.
Jackall ignored the comment and tried his best to control his breathing. "What can I do for you, Kenny?"
"Well, it's about your role in this firm." Kenny sat in one of the two dark red leather chairs.
Jackall looked Kenny square in the eyes. "I know exactly what you're looking for. Here." Jackall produced a single sheet of paper and presented it to Kenny.
"What's this?" Kenny asked, already suspecting the answer.
"My resignation, of course. That's what you're here for, isn't it?" Jackall slumped into his chairs, the fight sucked from him.
Kenny softened his voice. "Steven," Kenny paused and Jackall's face appeared surprised. It was the first time that Kenny had ever used his first name. "We all have rough times in our life. We make decisions and deal with the consequences. It's not brain surgery...it's life."
Kenny stood from the chair, leaning closer to the desk.
"Of course," Kenny continued, "Some of us make decisions that result in harder consequences." Kenny paused, letting the words hang for a moment. "I don't want your resignation, Steven."
"You don't?" Jackall asked surprisingly.
Kenny chuckled. "Nooo, I have a much better program in line for you."
Jackall's face moved from surprise to suspicion almost instantly. "What kind of 'program?'"
Kenny sat back down, looking over the resignation letter. "I want you to work on the Stills case...Pro Bono."
"Are you fucking crazy? Work for a fucking Nigger?" Jackall couldn't help himself. The words escaped his mouth before he could stop them.
Kenny held fast, and buried the boiling rage deep into his stomach. He took a slow, deep breath before speaking. "Steven, it's time you catapult into the twenty-first century. And this is just the ticket." Kenny stood from the chair and moved toward the door.
"You can't make me stay here!" Jackall yelled out.
Kenny grasped the doorknob hard, and could feel his knuckles go white. Then, he softly shut the door, away from prying ears. Still facing the now closed door, Kenny said softly, "You don't really think that Stacey Adam's testimony would hold up in court do you?" Kenny didn't turn around. He knew he had struck a chord on Jackall. "If word got out that you manipulated a case..." Kenny paused again, then turned and faced Jackall. The horror on Jackall's face was not surprising. "Well, let's just say I won't be needing this resignation letter, don't you agree?" Kenny didn't wait for an answer and tore the letter in half.
Then, he stuffed the letter into his pocket and walked out, once again leaving Jackall with his thoughts.
As Rebecca served dinner, she conspicuously avoided eye contact with either of us. I noticed it first, and then, nodding at Kenny, he noticed it too.
"Something wrong, Rebecca?" Kenny asked.
"No, Master Kenneth," she answered, again avoiding eye contact.
Kenny slammed his fork down on the china plate. "Damn it, Rebecca. I've known you most of my life. If there's something bothering you, let's have it!"
Kenny's outburst shocked Rebecca, and myself, for that matter.
Rebecca looked at me, and then at Kenny, then back at me again, then lowered her head. Finally, she spoke, hesitantly. "Master Kenneth, I've heard things...certain things..." She paused, second-guessing her start of this discussion.
"What kind of things? About what?" Kenny asked, a stern look on his face.
"Well..." she lowered her head again. "About you, Master Kenneth. You and..."
"Yes? Go on."
"You and Mr. Tibbs."
I just about dropped my glass of wine, as I quickly chocked down the liquid.
"Rebecca," Kenny pointed to an empty chair. "Come sit down for a moment."
Rebecca hesitated and then followed his instruction, sitting in the empty chair next to him.
"Rebecca, there's something you need to know about me." Kenny started. I knew immediately where this conversation was going, and I wasn't sure this modest, Southern lady was ready for this revelation. "Rebecca, Russell isn't just my financial advisor. He's my life-partner."
Rebecca didn't even blink.
Kenny, thinking he hadn't made his position clear, tried another approach; straight-forward. "Rebecca, we're gay."
Suddenly, she smiled widely. "I know that! You think I couldn't tell? I've known that since you were in high school, and you and Jimmy Pelket used to skinny dip in the pool."
Kenny had forgotten about Jimmy Pelket, and he certainly never suspected that anyone had seen him and his high school boyfriend in the pool. "Then, what's this about, Rebecca?"
Rebecca's smile quickly faded. "You're keeping Jackall."
Kenny sat back in his chair. He knew he was raised in a tightly knit community, but he didn't realize just how quickly news spread.
Rebecca began to plead, "Tell me it isn't true, Master Kenneth. Tell me you fired that good-for-nothing racist!"
"Rebecca, it's very complicated."
Rebecca's eyes widened. She fell silent, for she got her answer. "I have to clean up," she said, and walked out of the dining room.
Kenny looked at me and I tried to give him a supportive smile, but we both knew we wouldn't sleep well tonight. "Well, at least we can sleep in the same bed now."
"Not funny, Russell." Kenny said, stabbing another forkful of food.
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.