This story contains explicit sexual activity between men. Please read no further if you are offended by such or if you are a minor. Any resemblance to actual persons or activities depicted is purely coincidental, but actual places and events are mentioned to add a sense of reality to the story.
Please also donate to nifty.org to keep stories like this one coming to you free of charge.
And please let me know your reaction to the story. It means a lot to hear from readers. Write me at macoutmann@yahoo.com.
SAM CALDWELL'S FURTHER ADVENTURES
by Macout Mann
Chapter 14
David
Sam again goes down to Columbus for Christmas. He again invites the Williams family to join him and his mother for Christmas dinner. His mother has obviously become very fond of David, and Sam is amazed at how the young man has seemed to mature in the few months Sam has known him. He is well scrubbed, more attentive to his dress and general appearance. Much more polite.
David's mother again thanks Sam for "helping" David, and comments that he doesn't spend so much time away from home at night anymore.
Sam suppresses a giggle. Then he has a brainstorm, almost as radical as the one that resulted in David's being hired to look after Mrs. Caldwell. "Mother," he says, "I just had a thought. If you think you can do without David over the long weekend, I'd like him to come up and see Atlanta for the New Year."
"Oh," she responds, "I think that would be wonderful. And it would give me an opportunity to show you that I can take care of myself after all."
David's face lights up like a Christmas tree.
"Fu'-....Gee, that'd be great! I could hitch up there and back so that wouldn't cost anything."
Sam laughs. "You can hitchhike back, if you want, but on New Year's Eve you might get stranded somewhere and not even get to Atlanta for New Years. I'll send you a Greyhound ticket. You can pick it up at the station in Columbus. Then I'll pick you up at the terminal in Atlanta."
The bus arrives about two-thirty, only fifteen minutes late. David greets Sam and retrieves his overnight bag from the luggage bin.
"I'm so glad you came," Sam tells the youngster. "I don't know why. But I am."
"I don't know either. Over New Year's my dick could be making me lots of money down in Columbus."
"Don't I know it," Sam laughs. "Soldier boys away from home all alone when they ought to be having a good time."
"Fuck! You really did hustle, didn't you?
"Nothing wrong with selling your dick, Dave. Problem is that nobody wants to buy an old fucker's. That's why you need another vocation."
David is wearing a new pair of 501s, a flannel shirt, and a jean jacket. Looks quite fetching. Sam makes a note to get him into a fitness program. He's certainly not a weakling, but just a little muscular development would do wonders for his looks.
"Fuck, this place is awesome!" David exclaims as they drive north out of downtown. "I wish I could live here."
"You could do that one day," Sam responds.
Since David is so impressed, Sam decides to have a little fun. Instead of driving to the basement parking area, he pulls under the canopy at the Habersham's main entrance.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Caldwell," Clark says as he opens the door on David's side. "Will you be needing your car right away?"
"Not for a couple of hours," Sam answers. "Just have it parked in the garage, please Clark."
David is overwhelmed. "This is where you live?"
"Along with seventy-five or so other folks," Sam jokes.
David continues to be amazed when they reach Sam's apartment. "You've got to be one rich motherfucker," he says.
"Not really by Atlanta standards," Sam responds. "But I don't go hungry. And I don't want you or your family to have to worry about that sort of thing, either. That's why I want to see you into a good, steady job, when our six months is up."
"You're really being good to us."
Sam notes with pleasure David's choice of pronoun. He really appreciates David's devotion to his family. And he really wants his relationship with David to continue.
"Well, you need to have some fun the next couple of days. I thought we'd have a quiet New Year's Eve. We can go down to Underground Atlanta and have dinner. I think you'd like that. I've been invited to a party at some high society folks' place, but I don't think you'd like that. Not my favorite thing either. My friend Merritt, who lives on the floor below, is in the symphony. They're doing a special concert tonight, but he may come by after it's over. Anyway, I'll make eggnog for whoever's here at midnight. Then we can hit the sack.
"We can put your shit in the guest room or in my room, if you'd rather sleep with me. Your call."
"I've never spent the night with anybody," David giggles. "You fucking well know where I want to sleep, scrunched up against your hot dick."
"I was sort of hoping that's what you'd decide," Sam leers.
They take a tour of the apartment. On the easel in the studio is an almost finished acrylic version of almost naked Guy. Sam is going to have more fun with Curt Abramson. He plans to send the picture to Curt, once the book is published.
"What the fuck's that?" David asks?
"A great work of art," Sam laughs. He explains the deal, and David appreciates the joke.
They continue the tour, winding up next to the bar. "You've got to promise me to go easy on 'em," Sam says, "but I want to introduce you to Martinis. Aint nothing better."
David watches as Sam stirs eight parts of gin to one part of dry vermouth in a pitcher and adds one ice cube for each ounce of booze. He stirs vigorously then pours the solution into cocktail glasses and adds olives stuffed with onions.
"Onion-stuffed-olives eliminates having to decide whether you are having a martini or a gibson," Sam laughs. Then he explains the difference. "Both are acquired tastes," he adds.
David does find the cocktail a bit harsh at first, but soon begins to appreciate the taste. "I can see why I've got to go easy," he says.
On the way back downtown, David again is overcome, this time by the city lights. Sam wonders what he'd think of midtown Manhattan. David is also fascinated by Underground Atlanta, sort of posh, yet a little grungy.
After dinner, Sam suggests they walk around a little.
"Are those guys doing what I think they are?" David is suddenly very interested.
"Yeah," Sam answers. "Need to get your dick sucked? Columbus aint the only place where there are hustlers."
In full view of anybody watching, David reaches for Sam's crotch. "But I'm not hustling tonight. I'm just goanna be a shit-assed slut."
It's after ten thirty when they get back to the Habersham. Sam sets to work making the eggnog that will welcome 1993. It's to be the thick Southern kind that you have to drink with a spoon.
To a dozen eggs a pint of whipping cream, a cup of bourbon, and one and a half cups of sugar is used. The egg whites and cream are separately beaten until stiff; the egg yolks, bourbon, and sugar are beaten together until the sugar crystals are completely dissolved. Then all are combined in a creamy perfection.
A little after eleven Merritt shows up, still in white tie and tails and with his violin case under his arm.
"Whoa," Merritt says, seeing David. "I didn't know we were having a party."
"Meet David Williams," Sam says. "He's taking care of my mom down in Columbus. I've invited him up for New Years.
"Dave, this is my friend, Merritt Jensen. He's very talented, but not a very nice person."
"He sure does look fancy," David says. He's never seen anyone in tails before.
"This is the uniform for playing concerts," Merritt says. "I'm usually dressed just like you." He begins to get comfortable by removing his coat.
"Whatcha pick?" David asks. His musical knowledge stops at country.
"Oh, I fiddle." Merritt opens his case, removes his $75,000 instrument, and plays a chorus of "Auld Lang Syne."
"Damn!" David exclaims. "That sure doesn't sound like any fiddle I've ever heard."
Merritt plays the first few bars of the spectacular third movement of the Tchaikovsky concerto, then says, "Well, you get what you pay for I guess.
"I`ve got a friend whose father is in the Cleveland Orchestra. He's promised to let me have his Stainer violin on loan, when he retires. I could never afford to buy it." He replaces his instrument in its case and then says, "I'd sure like to play with you, though."
"I'm not sure you could afford to buy him," Sam grins.
"Oh, a fucking boy whore, eh?"
"You got it, man," David says. Sure as shit."
"Don't try to hustle a hustler, son," Merritt replies.
Outside, bells begin to ring, horns sound, and in true Southern style, firecrackers and bottle rockets start to explode. "Happy New Year!" Sam cries. "Time for eggnog."
As they sip the outlandishly rich concoction, they continue to wish each other the best for the year ahead. After a couple of refills the effects of the bourbon finally begin to be felt, and Merritt reaches for David's groin and feels the ample size of the teen's equipment.
"You're not really going to charge me for that, are you, stud?" he asks.
"I guess not, if you let me fuck you," David answers. "I aint never fucked a real violinist before."
Sam loves David's cockiness, and he joins in. "And I'll let you suck me, Merritt. But don't get me off. I want plenty of spunk left for when I fuck David after we've gone to bed."
Merritt carefully removes and folds his waistcoat, shirt, and trousers. "Gotta keep my uniform in good shape," he says. David and Sam have already stripped.
Merritt goes down on David and after a few minutes hunches over to show David his ass. Sam steps up to give Merritt his dick.
David rams his meat into Merritt in one thrust. Experience seems to have told him that Merritt could take it.
"Shit yeah," Merritt moans. "I just love young dick." Then he gobbles Sam up too.
David is anything but gentle. He pounds Merritt's hole relentlessly, grunting each time he plunges his pubes against Merritt's cheeks.
Merritt pulls away from Sam's prong. "Yes, give me some cum, Dave," he cries.
David is happy to oblige. "Fuck, yeah," he exclaims, "take my fucking seed, man."
Sam and David watch Merritt dress as carefully as he had undressed. "Might run into someone in the elevator," he says.
Then the two of them head for Sam's bedroom. Sam gives the younger man what for him is a new and wonderful experience. He starts by tonguing David's ears, then moving down his body. Tasting his nips, licking the growing fuzz on his chest, tonguing his navel, kissing his gut, and finally swallowing his rigid tool, while at the same time gently filling his ass with gel.
Sam rolls David on his back and gently slips his prong beyond the eighteen-year-old's sphincter.
Ten minutes later he leaves a creamy gift in the boy's colon. They spoon and both fall asleep together with the light still on.