REJOINING SCHUYLER - Chapter 8
Jack Jr. in Paris
Gay Erotic Fiction by Simon Mohr
Nothing intended to resemble any person, living or otherwise, exists in this work of fiction. It is for adults. If this material is illegal where you live or you are a minor, please do not read it. All Rights Reserved. Please donate to the Nifty Archive using the donor information on this site.
The night hours wore on in the 787 at Orly Airport in southeast Paris. Raul awakened first at 3 a.m. He felt cold all over, tried to get out of bed to adjust his room thermostat, and fell to the floor. He had some minutes of consciousness left and managed to push his security bracelet button.
The security forces on and off the plane knew where he was, but the aircraft was buttoned up tightly for the night. Only the men on the plane responded at first. The first responder opened Raul's door, turned on the light, and saw Raul in a pool of blood on the floor to his horror. Fresh red blood was pouring from Raul's mouth, though diminishing, and the guard noted only a faint pulse in the neck. The guard pushed his bracelet three times, and the whole plane began to wake. He spoke into a lapel microphone and soon the airport emergency squad, red and blue lights blinking, siren screaming, and by that time, the flight attendants had opened the cabin door, and the mobile steps had rolled up from the hangar.
An airport paramedic managed to start an IV, not an easy task given Raul's collapsed veins from volume depletion. The medic smiled when he saw the units of 'universal donor' O negative blood on board in a refrigerator kept in the hold. Jack didn't mention the units of matched blood in the third refrigerator for each passenger. The Trust medical department mandated that the 787 store them for international trips as part of provisioning. The medics discussed the ethics of taking blood out of the nation's blood supply; the reality was that kings, queens, presidents, Fortune 500 CEOs, and others did just that regularly. There existed some merit in keeping them healthy since they represented large segments of the economy. Jack knew about the practice. He'd spent years in the White House.
Albumin, platelets, fresh-frozen plasma . . . they all resided in a separate freezer deep in the hold. The additional fully equipped operating room down there was over the top, not to mention the trauma surgeon, nurse anesthetist, respiratory therapist, and lab tech with the lab that always flew along on global trips.
Jack appreciated the ability to remove an appendix or pin a fracture at 41,000 feet over the Atlantic or at airports where medical support (think blood supply, for instance) was deficient or non-existent.
When he thought about it at times, Jack got a little squeamish about being sutured in turbulent air. Jack preferred no sutures any time if possible.
Over-the-top facilities and premium supplies didn't help Raul this time.
The security supervisor on this trip summoned the airport physician who briefly attended Raul and approved the emergency treatment. The crew, doctor, and patient sped to the nearest urgent care location, which, typical of efficient French planning, was the Medical Center emergency room, located right in Orly airport. The rest of us, except Julio, stood in the aisles, shocked, stunned. Julio sank into a passenger seat in the back. The medic found no external injury on Raul, and he had no history of disease that we knew. Raul's medical record did not show he took any medicine.
Rafael shook his head. "My father in Cuba died this way. He felt tired and weak for a day, perhaps more, then began to bleed through his mouth and died. Doctors there called it bilharzia. The Cuban intern who treated my father told us that a parasite could infect freshwater. Snails and slugs exposed to the infected water can harbor and grow the parasites. Rats who eat the infected mollusk feces also grow parasites. Rats eat the infected snails and slugs. The spread of the parasites to humans was more common in tropical countries, Cuba included. Persons who bath or wade into infected freshwater ponds, rivers, or lakes are at higher risk." Raf sat down and began to sob. Jack sat beside him and put his arm around him.
Raf continued after a few minutes. "The intern told us that a pill now controls the parasite, which otherwise burrowed into veins near the intestinal tract and lungs. My dad didn't know he had bilharzia and didn't know about treatment. When he got symptoms, he didn't have access to the pill that might have saved him."
We got a call from the hospital later that confirmed that diagnosis. An ultrasound showed Raul's large spleen; some liver enzymes levels elevated. There was other lab evidence of the diagnosis as well. He was anemic. His platelets were low, which eventually caused fatigue and pale skin color. Raul's white blood cell count was off as well, both in number, type, and the presence of abnormal cells.
The subsequent news hurt all of us. The tear in Raul's blood vessels extended during resuscitation. He rapidly became unconscious from lack of sufficient blood flow to the brain and other vital organs, suffered a heart attack, coded on the table, and did not recover. Raul died there in Paris; he slipped into unconsciousness at the onset of the heart attack.
In Paris, the Ministry of Health sent a representative to the airport and asked us to have any in our household from Cuba tested.
"Human to human transmission of schistosomiasis or bilharzia doesn't happen."
"We recommend screening those of your companions who have traveled to or were born in a 'tropical' country, especially anyone related to Raul, or who grew up in the same neighborhood as Raul."
Julio and Rafael looked at each other. They both went willingly for testing. Julio tested positive with a large spleen and some lab tests confirming the diagnosis. Fortunately, the Ministry of Health gave him the yearly pill, and Rafael volunteered to take one as well to prevent trouble later. Both had the expected minor side effects. Both lived and resolved to take the pill every year once back in the US.
We cut the trip short. We left the same day after making arrangements with the consulate. Long before we arrived in Manhattan, I asked the New York City public health department to tell me about their screening of Cubans in the city for schistosomiasis. The department forwarded data from Miami-Dade, Broward, and Palm Beach counties in Florida as well.
When we got home, I asked the Mayor, the Head of the City Health Department, and the US Surgeon General to meet at the Museum. I had a proposal to make. $10 million per year to treat 2 million people each year indefinitely in exchange for their support to raise the same for Cuban citizens unable to get the medication and screening from WHO, Congress, other wealthy donors, wherever they could.
The group agreed to let me donate to the Cubans in Cuba and those in South Florida. They wanted the political plum of raising money for the Cuban vote in New York. That was fine with me.
Julio did not fully recover from the shock or the infection. Ne never lost the feeling of fatigue and wanted only to go home to Cuba to spend the rest of his days with what was left of his family there.
Rafael had lost two boyhood friends. One to death, the other to distress from the disease. Months passed before Raf appeared happy, a confident father, fantastic in bed and out, fully immersed in life again. Joe and Eric supported me, loving me back to the place I needed to be.
Jack Jr. Reunited with Joe and Eric
Jack woke that fall in late September to rain falling outside his primary suite window. He felt Joe's warm back and ass next to his and remembered the quiet urgency of the night before they slept. Joe had reached to him. "I want you."
During the gentle, tender rocking sex that followed, Joe showed Jack precisely what that meant. From puberty on, males know the pleasure of releasing semen.
It becomes a pure pleasure when a man eagerly consents to share the experience and wants you to come inside of him.
When your partner gets excited to watch you work and senses your pleasure happen inside him, feels your body jerk, sees your face display what you feel and think, hears your voice 'sing' the cadences of deep, intense feeling, so close, so intimate; then you have known pure pleasure.
As your cock slides in, out, then gets harder and thicker just before your cum spurts deep, you learn a little more about the guy that wants you.
Sharing sex resembles, in no small way, the pleasure one gets from the ticket for a seat in the front row center, not to mention the performance.
Jack thought he knew Joe pretty well from sharing the fun with Joe but had been somehow surprised to see Joe's reaction when Jack took Eric moments earlier. Joe had watched, excited as fuck. That Joe felt 'worked up' seemed the understatement of the year. When Jack came inside Eric, Joe nearly came at the same time, screaming a cry to the deity.
Very shortly after that, Joe had gone after Jack as a hummingbird goes to a large red flower.
Eric had watched them intently, his hands on Jack's head, thumb stroking Jack's forehead. Eric's mind deeply immersed itself in Jack and Joe's coupling, as deep as his brother's cock in Jack's ass. His other hand lay on his brother's ass, feeling the rapid thrusts, the contractions of Joe's gluteus maximus muscle, the soft hairless skin, the warmth, and the male contour.
Occasionally Eric leaned over and took Jack in his mouth, running his tongue on the underside of Jack's cock, feeling Joe's lower abdominal muscles bumping his head. The rhythm of Joe's thrusting, the warmth of his lover's skin, the fragrance of love, the tastes . . . all three men felt little separation from each other.
Jack brushed the comforter aside. Feeling warm air from the grates and appreciating the underfloor heating with his feet, he saw that Joe was still asleep, as was Eric. He imagined them naked under the sheets. They had taken turns showing and telling Jack what they thought of him and each other before exhaustion hit last night.
The tops of the maple trees whipped around in the brisk wind as the giant leaves twirled down to the ground. Jack saw the lawn, covered with multi-colored hues, a mix of green, orange, and hints of red leaves this early in the season. Jack expected the complete fall color changes wouldn't hit New York until mid-October.
Traffic outside the titanium fence looked normal. Scores of yellow taxis raced past the museum grounds, honking, darting between lanes and obstacles.
The parts of the park that he could see were closed, empty in the early morning hours. He didn't expect a lot of visitors today.
It appeared as if the wind were pushing the taxis down Fifth Avenue. The window, slightly ajar, was open far enough for him to hear the rumble of the city. Jack loved the sound; he was used to it now.
He thought, briefly, of breakfast, of his baby boy, the weather, the pandemic. His multi-tasking mind hosted all kinds of ideas at once, part of his attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. Mild cases like his didn't interfere with his daily living activities and helped his creative abilities. Jack's occasional insomnia, his short attention span to tasks he didn't want to do anyway, and his restlessness jolted his mind to the next task; it spurred him to better organization, to forward progress.
Jack started at the knock on the door. The manny brought his son in, already fed and changed, awake, looking for the start of his day. Jack took the baby and smiled at him, lifting his eyebrows, "Hey, you, are you ready for some loving from one of your daddies?" Jack tickled RJ's stomach. Raf had slept in his suite across the hall last night.
Jack had hired two new footmen after the Paris trip. Out of many applications, a man named Robert Schmidt, along with his brother Dan stood out. The Trust had a long-standing policy against footmen service if they were related. Jack decided he could break the rules in a good cause and their curriculum vitae were spectacular. Their personalities matched their background checks along with their professional demeanor, intelligence, and looks. They both had degrees in hotel management and experience as valet and concierge, respectively, at a large hotel in Manhattan. Their recommendations were checked and were way better than average. Robert and Dan were both about 5'10, 160 pounds, well-muscled, well-dressed, and cleaned up very well. Robert's hair was dark; Dan was blonde.
Raf had taken one look at Dan, head to toe; Dan had noticed Raf. They had talked about this and that when the subject of babies came up for some reason. Dan told Raf he'd taken care of his nephew for his sister after his nephew was born. That idea took hold in Raf's head (both of them), and soon, Dan was sleeping in Raf's suite in Raf's bed some nights of the week, getting up often to tend to RJ.
Robert, too, had become 'interfaced' at the Museum. In Jack's office to interview, he'd met Sam in the anteroom and noted Sam's gaze, saw Sam drop his pen, swallow, and stare at Robert's body. Robert had made a mental note to talk to Sam when he could. After all, here was a guy who was interested in him. Sam was handsome, alert, and his smile made Robert's cock swell.
Within a week, Robert and Sam had tumbled like clothes in a dryer. The two got to be friends from the inside out, both versatile, both loved sex, pleasuring the other in every way they could drum up.
Raf and Jack spent a night together once or twice a week with RJ (who slept in his crib), the whole family in the same room. Other nights found Jack, Joe, and Eric cuddled up in Jack's bed with RJ again in his crib in Jack's suite.
RJ grinned at his dad. He waved his arms, cooed, then let a ripper that startled both the manny and Jack.
"Oh, the joys of childhood," observed the manny.
Jack half expected the baby's excitement after the past few months. RJ's body movements and sounds were nearly automatic, and a happy reaction now when he saw Raf or Jack. RJ recognized his dads and loved to hear them and be held.
Jack linked his little finger in RJ's tiny hand and told him he loved him. The baby made a joyful sound, a long vowel, 'ah' with an inflection up, then down quickly. RJS wasn't doing consonants yet, and neither dad had heard a word out of him yet.
The manny took the baby out to recheck RJ's scuppers. Eric, awake now, joined his brother and Jack for breakfast. After ordering, the men jumped under Jack's still warm covers. Hands, hearts, and other parts came together, and a few minutes after Jack talked to the kitchen, footmen wheeled in the table with breakfast.
The men ate without many conversations that morning, playing footsie under the table, absorbing the sight of a grey day in Manhattan with the rain beating even harder on the windows. Out of the blue, Jack began to talk about the campus in New Mexico for bright young men.
Previous beneficiaries of the Trust started the school to foster talent for the Schuyler Trust by selecting the brightest young minds in the country, enabling them to develop their already superior skills for leadership and prepare them for analysis of complex financial issues. At least two graduates of the campus school had entered service through Paolo Schuyler's office and been beneficiaries of the Trust.
"Would you both consider flying out with me to New Mexico Thursday to visit that campus? I want to revive it with more talented recruits for the Trust. RJS will likely be the next beneficiary since he is a blood relative, but I want backup here. If RJS wants to be a belly dancer or wants to follow after his aunt Hannah and reject the Trust . . . we'll need a good successor in any case. As you know, picking the next one is one of my tasks in life."
"Eric and I have been talking about that too, Jack," said Joe. "We've been wondering if Eric could swim in the gene pool in Ireland next go around."
"That's a stunning idea. What would happen if two brothers fathered the baby?"
"Would the chance for congenital disability increase because the mating would double any 'bad' genetic traits? Would there be a way to check for any doubling and repair them 'in the tank,' so to speak?" Eric frowned.
"Bad traits?" Eric replied. "I can't imagine that. We're all normal so far."
"Sure, all that shows is that any bad genetic traits are not 'expressed' as something you can see or measure because they were all single bits of genetic information.
Some traits are only 'expressed' when there are two copies of the faulty DNA bits in one person. A famous example of that is sickle cell disease. If one parent passes one trait to the baby and the other does not, the baby is essentially unaffected that anyone knows but may pass the bad trait to an offspring.
The complete disease with its suffering shows when both parents pass their trait for the disease, even though neither parent had two of the faulty genetic bits, and no evidence of the disease as a result."
Jack had studied this subject and had done well in genetics in college biology.
"We could ask the guys in Ireland," Jack went on. "It could be that CRISPR technology or something else shy of abortion has progressed to the point of fixing defects earlier. There's no question you two would make a gorgeous baby of either gender . . . and pretty smart, too. Of course, Raf or I could end up being the parents, again. This time the odds of any one of four men being a parent would be 25%, any two being the parent would be 50% given four candidates. If there is any chance of damage due to consanguinity, let's back off and have each of you contribute your genes in a future 'mixing.' Does that meet with your approval?"
It did, and after breakfast, they quickly lost interest in bacon and eggs, quickly finished their peach Bellini, and jumped back into bed to practice. This time the three didn't fuck.
They made love to each other as co-dads that might share a child one day. Joe lay on his back; Jack sat gently back on Joe's rigid member and leaned forward to nuzzle Joe's chest. Eric, thrilled at what he saw, moved behind Jack and lubricated his way. Eric then slowly inserted his pole atop Joe's cock in Jack's hole.
The resultant stretch for Jack was initially too much to bear, he thought; then, as he accommodated his lovers' combined girth and action, a steady pleasant burn took over as they massaged each other to a climax inside him.
After they all came, the friction decreased dramatically, and Jack realized yet again that cum can be an excellent lubricant, a great river of it——even better.
After showering and toweling, Jack called the travel office downstairs. "We need Apricot for New Mexico Thursday. Perhaps Mango as well. I imagine Albuquerque is the closest airfield. We'll need vehicles to the Schuyler School campus for an expedition to include Joe, Eric, Sam, and I plus footmen, security, housekeeping, and IT teams, and an REI expeditionary team. We can meet an equine provider at the campsite chosen. Let's leave the Museum here at eight a.m. and Teterboro at eight-thirty a.m. or close."
He strolled down to his office, where Sam was knee-deep in paperwork. "Sam, let's go to see the campus in New Mexico Thursday morning. Come with us. Bring your essential paperwork to do on the plane—pack for four days. We might finish sooner, though. Business casual is fine. I talked to the travel office already, and we will also take Joe and Eric. We are going to spin up the campus again and prepare for a talent search."
"If we have time, we'll hike in the warm outdoors, maybe even camp out in multiple two-person tents. I want to use my new Gransfors-Bruk Forest Ax. Can you notify Security and Housekeeping and the kitchen?"
Jack paced up and down the anteroom.
"Also, Sam, call REI and ask for a male expedition planner to outfit all of us for four days max in New Mexico. We'll need everything from soup to nuts. Get them their first $10K on account this afternoon, balance on return. If they need a contract for personnel, look over it and let me know you see any weird points. "There has to be a campfire with s'mores every night unless we get sick of them, and at least one of those campfires better get me a chance to use that new ax. REI has to coordinate with Housekeeping and our kitchen."
"We need Security to talk to IT about communications for the camping part, an electric VTOL close by less than two miles away and out of sight, but not heard or seen, the usual teams on the ground. Great water is a must. I expect horses to carry the bulk of things, so we'll need to the travel office to arrange an equine outfitter there."
"Schuyler Trust did a trip like this in the cold north once. I've only read about it. I was too little to go, and no one invited me. Dad told me they saw a bear with cubs and that, other than the fun in the tents at night, was that."
"We'll also need footmen to erect and strike camp, and they have to be housed and fed and outfitted. We'll all need Stetsons to keep the sun off our heads and tell the footmen they have to bring plenty of spray suntan lotion. We'll need UVA and UVB protection in the one product, and 50 is the right number plus we'll mandate the Stetson's and a UV resistant long sleeve shirt which is breathable for air temperature stability; also, we'll need long pants, no short pants, with the same fabric. Skin cancer we don't need. Some of the outfitters have 'coolant' socks with UV-resistant fabric. We'll see."
"Oh, Sam," Jack continued, "Tell Security to bring the wasps, their chargers, and the bracelets."
Sam had been making notes as fast as possible during the session with Jack. "Should I remind the footmen to bring, uh, personal supplies for randy campers?"
Jack stopped pacing. "You continue to remind me, Sam, that Nobel Prize winners don't have the monopoly on genius. I'm beginning to think that if I died and got stuffed into a corner, no one would miss me for months. Should I be worried here?"
"Nah," laughed Sam, "you're safe. Who would sign my check or finally have sex with me in the New Mexico mountains in a tent?"
"To avoid sexual harassment charges, then, I would have to fire you, then have sex in the New Mexico mountains, then hire you back to do paperwork on the plane?" Sam nodded.
"Right, officer."
"Doesn't that seem like a lot of paperwork for a roll in the hay, er rocks? You and I are closer than my two lovers. We have a history going back to childhood, daily work together, we eat together. What if the sex was disappointing or something? Seems like a lot to risk."
Sam nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, there's that. Why don't we not and say we did."
The electric VTOL plane lifted off the Museum roof promptly at eight a.m. Thursday. Jack, Joe, Eric, Sam, and a bodyguard flew straight to Teterboro. The others took SUVs along with the luggage and camping supplies earlier. The expedition re-assembled near Apricot. Luggage and supplies got loaded into the baggage space. At the same time, the bulk of Security, the REI coordinator, IT types, and other Museum staff climbed into Mango, added the day before when Jack looked over the passenger load. The two Gulfstreams rose into the air within minutes of each other. Raf and RJ stayed home with their staff to minimize disruption to RJ's schedule.
The weather was fine above the clouds. It always is on jets. After the initial settling in, a strawberry mimosa or two, French toast with large Oregon blueberries, plenty of melted butter, maple syrup, freshly ground coffee, and orange wedges, the group either slept or murmured in groups. The Albuquerque weather was clear, warm, and dry, welcome after Manhattan rain.
The SUVs took the group and their luggage and supplies to the school. The Schuyler Trust had notified the school personnel of the upcoming visit. The security convoy through the guarded gates to the administration building. The principal met them at the front door, and Jack introduced everyone. "Hope you have a place for us to hang out tonight, Paul."
"Hey, the dormitories are empty now that the school is dormant. All of us are delighted to see you. I've asked the staff to ramp up services for food and necessities for your visit. We'd also love to start up school again if you decide."
The tour of the school showed minor wear over time. Jack thought some paint and floor polish would solve 90% of the wear. The other 10%, resurfacing of the drives and parking areas could happen quickly.
The retail locations were in good shape; the administration building, the classrooms were clean, and everything seemed to work. The Manhattan visitors ate in the kitchen, and even Sam liked the food.
Jack and the principal sat that night and discussed re-opening. "How long would the process of re-hiring teachers and booting up new curricula that match current New Mexico standards take, Paul?"
"Easily? Six months sailing with a light wind to our backs. If pressure and money are applied, we could get it done in three months. Some professors must finish their contracts. The campus changes can happen in a few weeks."
"The educational changes, curriculum, and new staff could take most of the six months depending on quality and quantity. The retail spaces can be available to students in a short time since the locations are up."
Paul Smith continued, "We would need legal help with contracts and the state permits and licenses. I assume the Trust Legal people would assist with that."
"Let's do it, Paul. As of tomorrow, start the process. I'll tell the Trust Legal people to do everything to help. I'll tell the Trust to start a budget process with you now. Can you manage on $40 million to begin?"
"I'm sure we can, Jack. I'm excited. Do we send the budget to you directly or to the Trust?"
"Send it to Sam at the Museum at my office. He's bright and helpful and doesn't take no for an answer usually. He'll know what I want and can speak for me. For this project, Sam will tell the Trust on my behalf about our anticipated money needs. The Trust will do their audits as usual."
"All set, then," said the principal. "I will look back at the records and see what quality and quantity of courses were there back when and replicate where possible and improve whenever possible."
"Thank you, Paul. Be sure to give yourself a raise too. It's been a few years, and the cost of living has gone up."
The visitors slept well and the next day left for the mountain country closer to Taos. The equine 'supplier' met them at the trailhead, horses packed, and the group geared up and moved out. A headwind of warm, desert air met them on their way. The path wound up and around large boulders and occasional cactus. The 'caravan' included Jack, Joe, Eric, Sam, and Robert, Sam's new footman friend.
Jack assumed that Raf, Dan, and RJ were safe at home. Security hiked with them in teams. The electric VTOL helicopter was always within a mile or two of the hikers.
The Crotalus viridis or prairie rattlesnake, four feet in length, entered Jack's tent soon after the men slept and sensed warmth.
It had never met Jack, Joe, or Eric but seemed to welcome the smells and promised temperatures away from the cool night air. It had never encountered two determined wasps in the form of drones, nor had it faced the night security team outside.
The snake's head entered the tent, paused to inspect, and sensed the flight of two very determined insects. The male reptile slithered another foot before being pierced with venom that robbed all its muscles of the ability to move further.
Jack and company woke relatively fast to the noise of the incoming security team, jumping in their bags to the top of the tent. Chaos reigned. The general excitement continued for another ten minutes. The VTOL was on standby anyway, and the camp wasn't going to sleep the rest of the night, so the party broke up.
The horses, jumpy now, were calmed by their handlers, and Jack decided Plan B was better. The helicopter took the principals to take two bodyguards to the backup location in Taos. After the quiet, short flight, Jack, Joe, Eric, Sam, and Robert arrived at The Palms at Taos River, a spa resort for the mega rich. A security team came before they did.
A blazing fire burned in the fireplace inside their suite, and snifters of warm brandy met them at the front door of a toasty, luxury resort not known for its reptile population. They eventually slept after unexplained shivering and chills cured by hot showers; curiously, a distinct lack of interest in sex coupled with a lot of touching for human comfort occurred under the hot water.
Eric giggled, a little alarmed to discover he couldn't seem to stop. Finally, Joe slapped his ass. "Ouch, stop!"
"You stop, or we'll all get nuts."
"Boys," Jack said, channeling his mom, "Cease. We've all scared ourselves enough. It's time to get some rest before breakfast."