The first week of May a certified letter arrived at the school from a Mr. Alphonse Pendergast, Esquire, a lawyer in Albany, with the firm of Pendergast & Stern. I took it back to my room and read the entire package and them read it again.
It seems my mother's estate was being settled and the will stipulated that I would be the sole beneficiary. Pendergast outlined the multiple documents in the packet: I would receive a monthly allowance until I turned 21, at which point all of the income from several irrevocable trusts would be mine. Meanwhile, all of my tuition and fees would be paid by the trust and, assuming I went to college or graduate school, all of those costs would be borne by the trust. If, at the end of my education, the funds had not been depleted I would inherit the annual income but the principle would remain in trust in perpetuity. If I had no spouse or children, the principle would revert to her designated charity, which was not identified.
It turned out that my mother was wealthier than my father was - or ever would be, even with all of his deals. The monthly income, and an annual allowance up to $10,000 for travel or special projects -- to be approved in advance by Mr. Pendergast or Mr. Stern -- would be available beginning June 30. Direct deposits would be placed in an account he had set up in an Albany bank and his firm would assume all responsibilities for accounting, taxes, and annual reports.
I was suddenly rich, comparatively speaking. I could do whatever and go wherever I wanted, as long as Pendergast approved. No more need to rely on my father at all, the bastard. I was, technically, richer than he was.
By the end of school, Teddy and I had figured out that we would go to Europe, at first with his family, and then spend the rest of the summer visiting various friends whose families also would be in Europe. Teddy had his own trust and his father approved the itinerary and convinced Pendergast to do the same. Mrs. Harrington obviously did not approve, even though I now was "somebody" but she kept quiet and avoided me whenever I visited.
We had a great time. Teddy's father, Max, spent three weeks taking us all over England, put us on the boat to Paris, and went back to the States. We were free and ready to explore the world -- or at least a portion of it.
It's pointless now to recall the details of the trip. Suffice it to say that we sucked and fucked each other in every country on the Continent, and would have been happy to try everything on all the other continents, but school beckoned.
Our sophomore year we insisted on rooming together and the school relented, probably by adding up the potential collective fortunes they hoped would benefit their endowments.
We were given the best rooms in the same hall, this time on the second floor, usually reserved for seniors, who seemed a bit put out by our arrival but didn't dare question the administration's decision.
We settled into our studies and a larger social life but remained intense lovers for the entire year.
We also were growing up. Our early adolescent bodies were changing. Teddy began shaving and he was getting more and more hair on his arms, legs and chest. He was changing into a man almost daily -- and I knew this because we still were naked most of the time when we were alone in our rooms. His cock also got bigger -- I knew that very well, too -- as did his balls, which seemed to have almost doubled in size. I still loved to lick and suck on them, but now instead of holding both in my mouth I could only manage one at a time -- and I know my mouth was not shrinking.
At the same time, I was growing, too. Instead of being lanky and awkward I had reached almost six feet (Teddy was still about 5'10") and my arms and legs also were covered in thick, dark hair. I had a nice treasure trail from my navel to my crotch but was otherwise naturally smooth. I played some sports but bulked up mostly from regular exercise and in the spring from crew. We were quickly reaching the apex of our physical prowess.
Teddy loved to lick my trail along my lower belly and dive his nose into my vigorous bush, where he lapped all around my crotch until he reached my hole. His intense rimming still drove me crazy and we fucked as often as possible. If I had been able to be impregnated, we would have had an army of children by the time we graduated.
Our rooms had been designed as two bedrooms with a shared bath. We created one bedroom and a sitting room/study separated by the bath, which had a large bathtub and a stand up shower that could accommodate us both. We used them both, regularly, for our love making.
Our ardor became more measured, although not less passionate. But as our circle of friends grew we seemed to spend less time alone together. Teddy became more involved in sports and I began tutoring some of the younger boys, and some of my peers, in many subjects. Some days we hardly saw each other except in the morning, at meals, or after hours.
That was different but it seemed to be a natural progression in our lives. During holidays or long weekends I went to Prides Crossing to Teddy's home. There, we settled into his room, although I know his mother would have preferred that I stay in another room down the hall. One weekend we arrived to find she had installed two single beds in his room and Teddy immediately ordered the staff to return the room to the same state when he had grown up there.
I assume his parents -- or at least his mother -- had figured out our relationship but his father agreed to revert the room to the old arrangement. We slept together every night and his mother never said a word, although if it's possible she became more distant and was less likely to be there if we were there.
I loved watching Teddy play sports. He was a natural athlete and the other boys and masters and staff loved his sleek agility and his good nature and sportsmanship. Everyone loved Teddy.
After a game or event, whether I played the same sport or not, I always joined the team in the locker room to congratulate them. By that time I was assistant editor of the school paper and a decent photographer so I had an excuse to be there to talk about the game highlights, to do an interview, or to console them on a loss. I loved seeing them naked and comfortable in their masculinity. Especially Teddy. He was often the center of attention and was not beyond starting the towel snapping or ass grabbing that was part of the horse play in the showers.
Sometimes I'd get boned up just watching him playing with his cohorts and I always had a notebook or camera bag to conceal my hard on -- which also had grown quite a bit in the past year. Teddy remarked one night that he was glad I liked to get fucked by him rather than the other way around because he was not sure he could survive a full-on assault with my "lethal weapon" as he called it. Once in a while he would want to get fucked by me but it was never as satisfying for either of us, even though I loved the different sensations of being inside him.
The year sped past, we travelled again in the summer -- this time in the Mediterranean -- and returned to our junior year having grown and matured in many ways. Junior year was intense only because it foreshadowed college choices, so we spent more time studying and boosting our grades. I already had been on Dean's List since the second term of my freshman year and Teddy struggled but did well enough.
During winter break in our junior year we went to Australia and New Zealand to escape the cold and returned tanned (all over) to our pale classmates who suffered through another New England winter at home. I was getting used to this travel regime.
My father, bless his flinty soul, made a few requisite visits during Parents Weekend and other formal occasions but, for the most part, we had no contact. He looked older and, from reading the New York Times and the Wall Street Journal in the school library, it was clear that all was not well in the market. I knew little of his investments but suspected he was having a tougher time remaking the family fortune.
Just before the end of the junior term I had an urgent call from Mr. Pendergast in Albany. He sounded worried and explained that my father had requested a loan from my mother's trust funds and that only I could provide final approval even though I was still under 21. I said no and ended the call. Let him stew, I thought. He'd sold the family home, taken all of the proceeds, made risky investments, and wasn't going to be bailed out at my expense.
Shortly after, Pendergast called to inform me that my father had declared bankruptcy and left the country to settle offshore. I thought the worst and suggested he was living off ill-gained funds in the Cayman's or some other tax-free haven.
But Pendergast gently informed me otherwise. The bankruptcy was necessary to preserve any remaining assets. He had lung cancer, inoperable and untreatable, and did not expect to live through the summer.
I was stunned.
Teddy and I talked about it and over Memorial Day weekend I was given special permission to leave school before exams and go home with Teddy to have a talk with Max Harrington, who had become my surrogate father.
We spoke alone for hours in his quiet book-lined study while I confessed my hatred for my father, how he had treated me and my mother, and essentially abandoned me to pursue his fortune. Max listened and spoke wisely about navigating difficult relationships with the people we love, or should love, or who should love us, and how it is always best to forgive and love regardless of whether we are loved in return.
By the end of the conversation, he had convinced me to find my father through Pendergast and make my peace before it was too late.
Teddy and I caught a plane to the Bahamas the first week of July and found him in some tacky casino hotel rooms in Nassau. He looked terrible; in fact I wouldn't have recognized him on the street if we hadn't gone directly to his rooms.
He had a wracking cough, was incredibly thin, and was obviously in pain, although I could tell from the various medicines piled on the table that we was drugged fairly heavily.
He hadn't wanted me to come. I'm not sure if he felt guilty or simply didn't want to be bothered in his final days. Teddy and I sat and talked with him, took him to dinner, and tried to make him comfortable during the three days we were there -- that was all he would agree to when we negotiated through Pendergast.
It turned out he was a regular guest at the casino -- and had been for years. He had gambled away his fortune. I only confirmed that when the casino manager approached me to ask if I had any intention of paying his bill. Reluctantly I agreed to pay for his housing and meals, sending the bills to Pendergast, but refused to pay any of his substantial gambling debts. By that time, the casino had shut him off, so he was simply living -- or more accurately dying -- in his own private hell.
The final night, before we were to catch an early morning flight to Barbados, he was wretched. He had started drinking while we were there, against doctor's orders, so he was well stewed by then. His cough was worse and he could talk only in short bursts before clasping the oxygen mask to his face and resting.
About 8 p.m. as we were ready to leave he blurted out: "So you're both queers, aren't you?"
I glared at him then looked at Teddy, who simply shrugged. We turned to my father and could see the helpless, hopeless, impotent rage in his eyes. He gasped under the mask, then ripped it off and said, "I always knew. Your mother suspected but I always knew."
Replacing the mask he inhaled the oxygen as deeply as possible then spat, "Get out of my sight. I disown you. I never want to see you again, you faggots."
Tears of rage erupted from my eyes and I glared back at him, shaking with fury.
I grabbed Teddy's hand and pulled him to my side. "You may despise me, you bitter piece of shit, but I have one thing you will never have: I love and am loved. Teddy is my lover and I am his. You will die soon. But know this, my hate for you will die with you and my love for Teddy will live on long after you burn in hell. You bastard!"
I turned and left, slamming the door to his tacky suite behind me. I never saw him again. Pendergast reached me by telegram in Aruba a month later to say he had died and that his body had been cremated, his ashes scattered on the sea. All of his estate was essentially insolvent, although selling the penthouse in New York would bring enough to cover his final expenses and pay the estate taxes.
Without my mother's foresight and fortune I would have been destitute. The bastard. But I was now truly free. And oddly, at peace.