Silver Spoon

John Winston III was incredibly wealthy. As the saying goes, he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Both his parents could trace their ancestries back to the Mayflower, or at least, close to it. When Johnny was only three years old, both of them were tragically killed by an avalanche, while skiing in St. Moritz.

The administrators of their joint and separate estates chose not to sell their town house on Central Park West. Instead the house was rented out, and always showed a small profit for Johnny's trust. He would inherit the house on his twenty-fifth birthday.

After the death of his parents, Johnny went to live with his mother's two aunts, who had never married. They raised him with love and care. Each of them was equally as rich as Johnny's mother had been. Careful investing, and innate frugality, more than tripled their net worth in their lifetimes, and Johnny was their only heir.

The only other relative Johnny had was his father's kid brother, who was equally as rich as Croesus. Uncle Clayton was only twenty-four when Johnny was orphaned, and he never married. Johnny was his only heir. Many people considered Uncle Clay to be slightly askew from normal. When he was old enough, Johnny spent a month every summer at Uncle Clay's summer estate in East Hampton. It was always the best time of Johnny's year.

His aunts were religious and very puritanical. Uncle Clay was the exact opposite. During his stay, the summer house was always full of young men in various stages of undress. Often at the pool, the men would be nude. Uncle Clay sometimes joined them in nudity. It was the first place that Johnny experienced the sight of erect cocks, and where for the first time, he saw the difference between one that was cut, and one that was uncut.

Every evening Clay got Johnny ready for bed. He would bathe him and tuck him into bed, sometimes in pajamas, sometimes in underwear shorts, and sometimes naked. Johnny never questioned him about that, but he constantly questioned him about what he observed around the house. Uncle Clay was honest in answering all of Johnny's questions. It was he who taught Johnny about circumcision and erections. When Uncle Clay spoke of these matters, Johnny would find his own little weenie plumping up. Uncle Clay assured him that it was perfectly normal, so he went to bed without a worry.

Most of the guests were only around on the weekends, but Uncle Clay had a special friend who was there all summer with him. Billy Freemont was an evangelist, who took the entire summer off from his preaching duties, and tent revival events, to concentrate on the business end of his campaign. There were seven bedrooms in the house, and young Johnny did not find it strange at all that Billy shared Uncle Clay's bedroom and standard sized bed. After all, they were best friends, and best friends had sleepovers, didn't they?

Johnny was about eleven, when his sexual education reached a level where he became aware that Uncle Clay was probably gay, and that his friend Billy might be more than a friend. Johnny found that very titillating, and devised ways of getting his aunts to let him spend occasional weekends with Uncle Clay in his city home. In his uncle's home, he was free to walk around the house naked, and he never had to go to church on Sundays, unless Uncle Billy (he called him uncle now) was preaching nearby. His aunts considered Uncle Clay to be a bad influence on Johnny, but they felt he needed a father figure, and so they allowed him to visit on the occasional weekend, which after awhile became every weekend.

Shortly after his twelfth birthday, during a weekend at Uncle Clay's town house, Johnny had his first wet dream. It was wonderful and scary at the same time. At first he thought that he had wet his shorts, but upon examination, it was obvious that the sticky fluid was not pee. Uncle Clay had no visitors that weekend, so Johnny cleaned himself up and went into Clay's room. He desperately wanted to ask him about this strange phenomenon. His uncle was sound asleep so he crept into bed with him, intending to ask him about it in the morning. He hunkered up to his naked uncle and he too fell sound asleep.

When he awoke, he was alone in bed. He went back to his room, showered and dressed. He could smell breakfast aromas coming from the kitchen downstairs. He rushed down to find his uncle in the dining room reading the Sunday paper, and being served by the butler. Without a word, he sat down at the table, and the butler served him as well. Nobody said anything. Finally Uncle Clay put his hand on Johnny's and asked, "What were you doing in my bed last night, sport? Is everything OK?"

As best he could, Johnny described his wet dream to Uncle Clay. It was difficult to describe the physical and emotional feelings it aroused in him, but to Johnny's surprise, Uncle Clay made it easy for him. His uncle seemed to know exactly what he was talking about, and what he had experienced. Johnny was more surprised at what happened next. Uncle Clay stood up and grabbed Johnny in a ferocious bear hug. He literally took Johnny's breath away.

"You are becoming a man now," Clay beamed. Then he sat down again and said, "Let me explain what is happening to your body."

Johnny had already experienced erections, so if he expected some sexually explicit narrative, he was very mistaken, and sorely disappointed. Uncle Clay could not have been more clinical. He described the changes occurring in Johnny's body, and how these changes were part of his maturing process. "The fluid you ejaculated will someday join with your wife's egg and make a baby," he told Johnny.

"How does that happen?" the boy wanted to know, so Uncle Clay carefully explained how an erect penis could be inserted into a vagina, causing an ejaculation.

"How can I keep from messing up my bed if I have another wet dream? I sure don't want to wear diapers." Uncle Clay took a deep breath, and as clinically as possible, he described masturbation to his young nephew. He used a banana to illustrate.

"If you relieve yourself that way, you probably won't have any more wet dreams. I do it all the time. Most men do. It's perfectly normal, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Trust me. It won't cause you to grow warts on your palms." That having been said, he laughed his sides off.

Johnny was fascinated by the whole conversation, but it took a few days of thinking back on Uncle Clay's lesson, and a thorough search of the subject in his Encyclopedia Britannica, before he was fully cognizant of the awesomeness of being on the brink of his sexual life. By now he was convinced that Uncle Clay was gay, and that Uncle Billy was a special friend. He also searched the encyclopedia to learn whatever he could about homosexuality. While reading about the subject, he popped a good sized, nicely hardened boner. He started stroking himself (as Clay had instructed), and before he knew what was happening, he had his first orgasm by masturbation. He was unprepared for it, and had a lot of cleaning up to do. He wanted to telephone Uncle Clay and tell him about it, but decided to wait until they were alone. That very weekend Uncle Clay was going to open up his summer home for the season, and Johnny was going with him. Better yet, Uncle Billy would not be joining them for another two weeks, and no company was expected during opening weekend, so they would be alone.

He and Uncle Clay sat in the back seat of Clay's chauffer driven limousine on the way to The Hamptons. Johnny wanted to tell his uncle all about his first masturbation experience, but Clay kept speaking to the driver all through the trip, and he had no opportunity. It wasn't until after dinner, when he and Clay were sitting on the veranda, enjoying the cool early summer breezes that Johnny told Clay about his first real orgasm, and how wonderful it felt.

"I told you that it was an awesome experience, and now you won't have to worry about wet dreams. Do it as often as you would like while you are out here with me. And by the way, guys call it jerking off or whacking off. You might hear me doing it while you're here. Just ignore me."

That's how the days went when Johnny was with his uncle, either in East Hampton or in the town house. The years passed and Clay was always ready to answer Johnny's questions as honestly as he could. Johnny just couldn't seem to get up the courage to ask Uncle Clay about his relationship with Billy, or just simply to ask him about his sexual orientation. It seemed to be the only taboo subject between them, or maybe it was taboo only on Johnny's part.

When Johnny was fourteen, one of his aunts passed away. She had breast cancer, which had spread throughout her body. She suffered great pain in the end. Everyone said that it was a blessing that she passed. His other aunt could not seem to go on living without her sister, and she died a year later. Shortly after his fifteenth birthday, Johnny went to live full time with his uncle.

This time he instructed the executors of his aunts' estates, who also were overseers of his parents' estates, to sell his aunts' town house. As they had aged, they had allowed the mansion to fall into disrepair. Johnny knew instinctively that one day he would move into his parents' home. It was always being improved to keep it rentable. He had no desire to inhabit or renovate his aunts' decaying residence.

Johnny spent the summer, after graduating high school, with his uncle in East Hampton. He was eighteen now, and would be off to Harvard in September. On the first night out, the two men were enjoying a gin and tonic on the veranda.

"I need to ask you something, unc," Johnny suddenly spurted out, "before I lose my nerve."

"Shoot!"

"Are you gay?"

Clay broke out into laughter. "Isn't it obvious to you? What took you so long to ask me? I'm not ashamed of it, and I have never hidden anything from you."

"I was just plain afraid to ask. I'm sorry."

"Why are you asking now?"

Johnny hesitated a long time before answering. "I'm thinking I might be gay myself, but I'm not sure. I've never been with anyone, male or female. How do you know if you're gay anyway if you are still a virgin?"

"Do you jack off, like I taught you to do years ago?"

Johnny snickered. "Several times a day."

"What do you think of when you are approaching your climax?"

"How good it feels."

"Yes, yes, but I mean who do you fantasize you are making love with?"

"Well it's usually one of my male teachers, but once in a while, a girl. I never fantasize I'm with any of my buddies. In fact, I wouldn't want to be. I'm not attracted to anyone I know."

"Sounds like you desire older men. It also sounds like you might indeed be gay. How would you feel about it if I fix you up with one of my guests this weekend? They are all a little older than you."

"How would I feel about it? Look!" Johnny was pointing to his magnificent eight inch hard on which was tearing at his jeans."

"I'll take good care of you, my gay nephew. You've made me very happy tonight. Our bond is closer than ever. We are brothers now, as well as nephew and uncle." Clay did something then that he had never done before. Instead of kissing Johnny on the forehead or the cheek, he smacked a closed mouth kiss directly on Johnny's lips. Johnny loved the feel of it.

"Uncle Clay, how do you know if someone you are with likes you, or if they like you for your money?"

"That's a good question. Your Uncle Billy fell in love with me before he had an inkling as to how rich I was. Let me tell you about it."

Clayton Winston, younger son of billionaire John Winston II, was in his chauffer driven limousine, returning to Harvard, after attending his older brother's wedding in New York. His mother had died just a year earlier, and it broke his heart that she had not lived to see her elder boy so happily wed.

Clay was almost ten years younger than his brother Johnny. His mother had been frail all her life, and it had taken her that long to conceive another child. She never regained her strength after Clay's birth. Worse yet, his father hadn't had a happy day since his wife died, and he too had suddenly aged and was in poor health. That was why Clay, a confirmed atheist, felt the need to pray for his father.

As the limousine got closer to Boston, Clay noticed an outdoor bill board with an interesting announcement. Reverend Billy Freemont would be preaching at a large Baptist church in Newton, MA on October 25 at 4 PM. Most of the billboard was taken up with a picture of a smiling Reverend Billy.

Clay remembered reading about Billy. He was a very young evangelist, who started his ministry before his 16th birthday. Now at 22, he was world famous. Tales of his healing powers were widespread and well documented. Clay didn't believe a word of it, but suddenly he wanted to attend the "meeting." He felt that whether he believed or not, maybe he could ask Reverend Billy to pray for his father. Then he would tell his father that the famous Billy Freemont was praying for him, and maybe it would halt his father's descent into despair.

He took out his appointment book, noted the date and time, closed his eyes, and dozed for the rest of the trip. While he dozed, Billy's billboard picture invaded his dreams. Clay had never seen a young man so handsome. He saw Billy's piercing blue eyes, and he knew instinctively that Billy was gay. As he dozed he got hard and he dreamed of making love with the evangelist. Better yet, the evangelist in his dream was so smitten with Clay that he wouldn't let go of him.

His dream was shattered, when during Billy's sermon, he made a passing reference to the evils of homosexuality. At least he didn't dwell on the subject. It didn't deter Clay from his mission. After all he was a virgin, and in the closet. Nobody but he himself knew that he was gay. Billy needn't know either. Still, in spite of his condemnation of homosexuality, Clay felt instinctively that Billy was gay. It was the habit of all evangelists to blame gays for all the evils in the world, including fires, earthquakes, volcanic eruptions and terrorist attacks, so maybe it was all just a ploy on Billy's part. Like evangelists before him, if he got caught, Billy could always claim that the devil made him do it.

At the end of the sermon, congregants wishing to receive healing from Billy lined up the center aisle of the church. As each one got to him, he laid his hands on their heads and said a small prayer. Clay saw this as an opportunity to speak with The Reverend. He joined the line. When he got to the front, he and Billy looked into each other's eyes. Both of them were transfixed. Some unknown cosmic power source passed between them. Before Billy could bless Clay, Clay said, "Please reverend, I must speak to you privately."

"Yes, of course," Billy answered. "Come to the Vestry after the service."

Billy greeted him cordially when Clay entered the room. "I'm glad you came," he said. "You look so troubled, and I was afraid you would change your mind. What's troubling you, my friend?"

Without any wasted words Clay said, "My mother died last year, and my father is so distraught that he is falling into ill health. He wants to die and he's willing himself to do so. Can you pray for him, please, Reverend?"

"Of course," Billy said. He took both of Clay's hands in his own, bowed his head, and said, "Let us pray." He recited some beautiful words, and invoked the healing power of Jesus to bring Clay's father back to a healthy and useful life. Frankly Clay thought it was all nonsense, but he knew that when he told his father about this face to face meeting with the famous Billy Freemont, his father might just believe it, and begin the process of creating a self fulfilling prophecy.

When the prayer was over, the two young men continued to hold hands.

"What do I owe you?" Clay asked insensitively.

"Nothing! You can donate to my ministry if you want to, but it isn't necessary."

"Then would you allow me to take you to dinner?" Clay said in a voice that was obviously pleading for a yes answer. Billy hesitated for just a moment, and then agreed to have dinner with Clay.

They had dinner in Billy's hotel. At dinner, Clay's hunger for Billy grew stronger and stronger. As a result, he became more and more agitated.

"I sense an inner turmoil in you. Is there something I can help you with?"

"I don't know. Perhaps you can, but I doubt it. I'm struggling with my sexuality, Reverend. I am still a virgin, but I believe that I am gay. I don't think you can help me with that. It's just that I haven't told a soul and I truly need someone to talk to about it."

Clay expected condemnation from the preacher, but Billy said, "If it is such a big secret and such a torment to your soul, why are you confessing it to me, and why now?"

"A few weeks ago I saw your picture on a billboard, and I have been obsessed by it ever since. Over the centuries men have fallen in love with Mona Lisa. In the same way, I have fallen in love with you, or at least, your picture."

Billy remained silent. Clay could not discern any emotion in his face or his eyes. It was sheer torture for Clay. He would have preferred for Billy to curse him and send him on his way."

Finally Billy laid his hand on Clay's and said. "Let's go somewhere quiet where we can talk about this without the chance of anyone overhearing us." Clay paid the bill, and they stood up to leave. Clay followed Billy without any thought to what was happening. They stepped into the elevator and Billy pushed the button to the third floor. Neither spoke. They entered Billy's room and they were both still mute. Billy locked the door and faced Clay.

"I've been fighting the same demon all my life," he said. "When I looked into your eyes in the church, I saw my soul mate, the someone that will stand at my side forever. I'm a virgin too, Clay, but I want to end all that with you."

Clay was stunned, but not for long. He fell into Billy's arms and they started to kiss. Clay remembered that Billy had condemned homosexuality, but at this moment he didn't care to think about it or ask for an explanation. He just wanted to make love to Billy and stop being a virgin.

The two men stripped rapidly and fell on Billy's bed.

"Do you know what to do?" Clay asked. "Have you ever seen a gay porn film?"

"No."

"I have. Do you trust me enough to follow my lead?"

"Yes."

"You have a beautiful cock. I'm surprised it's cut," Clay said.

"I might say the same thing about you.

"It's nice enough to eat," Clay muttered. He buried his face in Billy's crotch, inhaling the musky aroma of a man's genital area. It was a new smell to him, and it made him slightly faint. He started to lick the entire area as Billy squirmed under his tongue.

"Please," Billy pleaded, "you're torturing me." Clay went straight to his target. At first he sucked Billy's cock like a vacuum cleaner, being careful not to let Billy feel his teeth. Billy asked him to be gentler, so he started to lick sensuously up and down the underside of Billy's shaft. Immediately Billy felt his orgasm starting. He let Clay know and Clay took Billy's cock into his mouth. As Billy came, Clay swallowed every drop of what tasted like nectar to him. Clay held on to Billy as long as possible.

"How would you like some of that?" Billy asked.

"I'd like it a lot."

Clay stayed all night. By dawn's early light his ass was no longer virgin either. Parting was indeed sorrowful and not too sweet, but they called each other constantly. Whenever he could, Clay came to the city where Billy was preaching.

The weekend after being with Billy, Clay went home to New York and told his father that he had been blessed by the famous Billy Freemont, who had sent him healing. Whether Billy did indeed have the magical powers of healing, or it was the power of suggestion, but Clay's father gradually came out of his depression and grew stronger and healthier by the day. Eventually he gifted his New York City mansion to Clay and moved permanently to his home on the ocean in Palm Beach.

After being with Clay, Billy modified his sermons. He no longer made references to the evils of homosexuality. Instead he preached universal love. He insisted that love was the source of all happiness and health. He proclaimed that if you sent enough love to your enemies that eventually they would return the love, and wars would end. He became more popular than ever, even attracting segments of the population who felt nothing but disdain for other evangelists, many gays being among them.

After finishing his narrative, Clay said, "Johnny, please don't laugh when I tell you that Billy is the only man I have ever been with."

"But all those gay men in your house all the time, haven't you ever?"

"Never. Now I am not saying you should have only one man in your life. That's something Billy and I chose to do. Believe me, it's tough. He's away so much, and we have to hide our love in the shadows, but it's worth it for me.

"I've been off on a tangent. I never answered your question. You see Billy loved me before he found out how rich I was. You know what's so ironic? He won't let me contribute one red cent to his campaign. I hope you will just instinctively know the difference between true love and a man's greed."

The next weekend Johnny was lounging naked poolside when a man of about twenty-two or three lay down on the lounge chair next to him.

"Hi," he said, "my name is Bo Hawkins. I'm from Georgia visiting a friend in New York City, and he brought me to this here weekend shindig. It sure is fun, and I cain't take my eyes offa ya." Bo stuck out his hand, which Johnny shook.

"Did my uncle put you up to this. You really don't have to do it."

"Who's your uncle?"

Johnny pointed at Clay who was chatting with an older guest.

"No suh, I never spoke to that feller. I was too busy checking you out."

Johnny was suddenly conflicted. Even if Clay didn't instigate this meeting, did Bo really not know who he was? Was he attracted to him, or was he attracted to his money. Finally, he decided that he didn't give a crap. He would enjoy Bo over the weekend, and make sure never to see him again in the city. Besides, Bo was only here on vacation.

"I don't have anyone sharing my room with me," Johnny said in such a manner, that he sounded like just another guest. "How'd you like to come up to my room and get better acquainted?"

"I'd sure like that a lot. By the way what's your name?" Johnny hoped that Bo was not pulling his leg. The boy really didn't know who he was or who the host was.

"They call me Mr. Tibbs, southern boy."

It was obvious that Bo didn't get the joke. He stared blankly at Johnny.

"Just call me Johnny, Bo."

They entered Johnny's room, and Johnny locked the door behind him. The two men stood staring at each other. Neither knew exactly what to do or say. After an uncomfortable amount of time elapsed, Johnny took the initiative. "Look, he said, this is my first time, and I haven't taken any lessons, so you better make a move on me before I lose my nerve."

"Shit, it's my first time also." They both broke into laughter and Johnny began to strip. Bo followed his lead. In minutes they stood facing each other, two naked young men.

They were about the same height, six feet. Bo was not cut, but Johnny was, just like his uncle and his father. Each one was about four and a half inches flaccid, but at the moment, they were both at least eight hard inches and dripping precum. Bo had straight blond hair and blue eyes. Johnny had curly brown hair and brown eyes. They were both frightened and excited at the same time.

Finally Johnny reached out and fondled Bo's cock. Bo purred like a kitten. Johnny led Bo to his bed with Bo's cock in his hand. He sat Bo on the edge of the bed and fell to his knees. His tongue licked all around and up and down Bo's cock. Bo started wailing and Johnny took him into his mouth. He licked up and down the underside of Bo's cock, at least the part he could get in his mouth. Bo was screaming wildly now and squirming in every direction. Suddenly Johnny felt it. A warm, salty fluid was gushing into his mouth. Bo pushed in harder and nearly choked Johnny. The semen flowed copiously out of Johnny's mouth. There was no way he could swallow it all with Bo's cock occupying so much mouth space.

"I'm sorry," Bo said. "I wanted to warn you, but I couldn't speak."

"It's OK. I always wanted to taste cock and semen. I got what I wanted and I wasn't disappointed. You don't have to do it to me if you don't want to."

"I want to. I want to so much."

From that weekend on, Johnny set a course for his life. He vowed to have as much sex as he could, but never to "get involved." When he was old enough to get the townhouse, he set up residence there. His uncle's house in East Hampton was always available to him. It was as much his home as Clay's. He lived in luxury no matter where he was, and although he didn't have to work, he took up writing soft core, gay erotic stories and novels. He wrote under a pseudonym, John Blake, and he donated his royalties to AID's charities.

Johnny never wanted his tricks to be aware of his vast fortune, so he rented a small one bedroom apartment in Greenwich Village under his pen name John Blake. His good looks made him so successful in his pursuit of sex, that most weeks he spent more time in The Village than on Central Park West. In addition to contacts he made at the bars, the internet was in full use now, and Johnny also made contacts in gay chat rooms.

He averaged four tricks a week, and never let any one of them spend the night. Part of his coolness could be attributed to his oath never to get involved, but in his deep subconscious brain, he feared that he would fall in love with a false god, someone who was only interested in his money.

His Uncle Clay had long talks with him about his promiscuous life style. Coming from a place of love, companionship, and monogamy, Clay feared for Johnny's health. Clay simply could not reconcile Johnny's ways to his own quiet (and secretive) life style, but there was little he could do about it. He never stopped to think that none of us is exempt from love. It might even happen to Johnny one day.

His name was Edwin Rose. Johnny first saw Ed behind the bar of his favorite hangout. He approached the bar to order a gin and tonic, and was shocked to hear the bartender ask, "What'll it be Johnny?"

"How did you know my name?" Johnny sounded a little annoyed, as if this stranger had taken liberties with his privacy.

"I heard some of the guys greet you when you came in."

The bartender had no name tag, and Johnny didn't bother to ask for his name. He immediately wrote him off as a possible connection anyway. Bartenders generally worked until 2 AM. By that time, Johnny had long since evicted his tricks, and was sleeping peacefully. For the next two months Ed greeted Johnny cordially, but Johnny saw him only as an employee of the establishment.

One day, two months after Ed came to work there, Johnny placed an order with him, and noticed that he was wearing a name tag. The tag was printed in scarlet capital letters, lest you should miss seeing it.

"Edwin," Johnny said. "So that's your name. How come you finally got an ID tag?"

"The boss doesn't invest in them, until he's sure you're a steady."

A strange thing happened with the advent of the name tag. It gave Edwin an identity. He was no longer a non entity to Johnny. He was a living, breathing man, yes, a sexual human being. Johnny suddenly became aware of Ed's sex appeal, and he liked what he saw. How could he not have noticed right away? Ed could have passed as Bo's kid brother. The sexual pleasure he felt at his first ever encounter with Bo, came flooding back to him. After all these weeks, he had a sudden desire to nail Ed to his bed.

"What time do you get off?" Johnny asked with the biggest, sexiest smile he could manage."

"I've been waiting to hear you ask me that since the day we met."

"Well?"

"The bar closes at two, but by the time I clean up and get everything ready for the following day, it's nearer to three before I'm on my way. If you are really interested, I'm off all day Wednesday and Thursday."

"That's nice to know. Would you like to have breakfast with me Wednesday morning?"

"Could we make it lunch. I usually sleep until noon."

Johnny reached into his wallet and gave Ed a John Blake calling card. "Lunch it is," he said. "Just call me when you are on your way, and I'll be ready." He blew Ed a kiss, picked up his drink, and joined some friends.

It was barely past ten in the morning on the following Wednesday, when Johnny's phone rang. It was Ed.

"What are you doing up so early?"

"I couldn't sleep thinking of you and all the possibilities we might experience today. Can I come over? I'm only about ten minutes away."

"Sure. I'll leave the door unlocked. I'm going to jump into the shower now."

Actually Ed had called from his cell phone on Johnny's street corner. He opened the front door a couple of minutes later. The shower door was ajar and he could see the shadow of Johnny's naked torso through the shower curtain. He undressed in record time and before Johnny could object, he was in the shower with him.

"Damn, Johnny said. "You sure are big. I never realized how tall you are, seeing you behind the counter."

"The floor behind the bar is about six inches lower than the floor in front. That way we don't get sore backs from bending over all night. I'm six/five by the way."

Johnny glanced down at Ed's cock and he shuddered. This might be the first cock he would not be able to take up his ass. At the very least, it would be a challenge. While Johnny was musing away, Ed wrapped his massive frame around him and began to kiss him.

Ed forced open Johnny's lips, and they began to duel with their tongues. "Do you know how long I have wanted to do this?" Ed asked the thin air. Johnny was too lost in rapture to have really heard him. The excitement of the brush of Ed's tongue against his own was spreading throughout Johnny's body. The tingle reached his groin, and he began to get an erection. He pushed his engorged cock against Ed's massive body, and realized that he was pushing just below Ed's balls. Johnny stood on his toes and barely reached Ed's cock with his own throbbing man tool.

The warm cascading water running down their bodies made Johnny feel even more passionate. Suddenly he pushed Ed away. Ed looked at him quizzically, but remained silent. He wanted Johnny to say whatever was on his mind, but Johnny was speechless.

Until now, Johnny's love making had been lustful and urgent. There was rarely any kissing, and if there was, it was a quick peck without tongue. The kiss he had just experienced with Ed was different. It was full of passion and desire, and Johnny had responded to it. He was totally confused. He liked what had just happened and wanted more, but he was suddenly consumed with fear. He did not understand the emotions Ed was awakening in him, and he was scared of how he was feeling.

In the end he didn't give a shit. He grabbed Ed again and resumed their kissing. His hand found Ed's nine inch, fat as a sausage, cut cock, and he began to stroke it. Ed began to mewl, as Johnny's hand sent shivers from Ed's cock throughout his whole body.

Johnny heard Ed whisper, "Please don't stop." Johnny fell to his knees and took Ed's cock into his mouth. He could only manage to engulf Ed's head, but he opened wider, relaxed his jaw, and managed to take in about half of the fattest cock he had ever seen. His tongue stroked and his lips pulsated against this wondrous cock, and Ed came gushing into his mouth.

Johnny kept sucking and swallowing until Ed began to soften. When he stood up, he saw that Ed was crying.

"What's wrong?" Johnny asked.

"I didn't want to cum so fast. I wanted it to last all day."

Then Johnny said something that surprised even him. "That's no problem. You told me you had two whole days free, so what's your concern?"

"None, none at all." Ed fell to his knees, and returned the favor, and all the pleasure, Johnny had just given him.

Afterwards, they dried each other and lay down on Johnny's king sized bed, which occupied most of the bedroom. At first all they did was hold each other and fondle each other's cocks. Ed began to kiss Johnny again, and Johnny just melted into him. He wanted to feel as much of Ed's body against his own as was humanly possible.

I'm going crazy. Johnny thought. I must be crazy if I invited this stranger to spend two days with me. Well, he's not really a stranger. I've known him for a couple of months. Damn, he's so sexy... and so big.

Suddenly Johnny felt Ed's cock getting hard again and rubbing against his thigh. At that moment, all his doubts left him, at least for the moment, and he said, "Fuck me Ed. Please fuck me. I want you inside of me so badly."

Not only did Ed spend the two days alone with Johnny, they spent the time naked and making love. The only break they took was to go out to dinner Wednesday evening. Johnny explained that he wasn't much of a cook and kept very little food in the house. They went to a local, very inexpensive diner. The food there was passably good.

At dinner, Ed kept grabbing Johnny's hand, until Johnny had to beg him to please free up his hand, so he could eat.

"Can I ask you something?" Ed asked over dessert.

"Sure, fire away!"

"How is it you can take two days off in the middle of the week. What do you do for a living?"

"I'm a writer. When we get back to my place, I'll show you some of my published books. Unfortunately, my stuff has a limited audience and my royalties are minimal"

Ed frowned, and Johnny said, "Don't fret. I get by."

"In that case, dinner is on me."

"No way, we'll go Dutch. Now can I ask you something? If you had all the money in the world, what would you want to do with your life?"

"I'd go back to school. I want to be a doctor so badly, but it isn't in the cards for me."

You never know, Johnny said to himself.

For the next few weeks, they spent Wednesdays and Thursdays together. What shocked Johnny was that he had no desire to be with anyone else. He spent his evenings hanging out at Ed's bar and ignoring any possible contacts.

"I have to go away this weekend. I've been invited out to The Hamptons," Johnny announced to Ed one evening.

"I'll miss you," Ed said tersely, and then he turned away so that Johnny could not see the tears that were welling up inside of him. As far as Ed was concerned, Johnny was going to indulge in a weekend of debauchery. The truth is that all Johnny wanted to do was discuss his present condition with Uncles Clay and Billy. He really could not handle his unfamiliar emotional state. He had no idea that he was in love with Ed. Love was not a word in his dictionary.

Clay, Billy and Johnny sat at poolside sipping pina coladas, while Johnny tried to explain his confusion to his uncles. They listened intently without interrupting, but when Johnny explained that he had lost any desire to be with anyone else since his first encounter with Ed, both uncles broke out into wide grins.

"Hallelujah," Billy proclaimed. "My boy has found love. Johnny, Son, don't you realize that you have fallen in love with Ed?"

"And apparently he loves you too," Clay added. "Does he know how wealthy you are?"

"Actually he thinks I am terribly poor, surviving on a pittance of royalties from my novels. He wants us to move in together to cut down on our expenses. Now I'm afraid he'll hate me when he finds out that I have deceived him."

"Did you ever tell him that you were poor?" Clay asked.

"Not really. I don't think so. I just told him not to worry about me and that I manage to get by."

"Then you didn't deceive him. I have an idea. Billy is leaving me for a couple of weeks on church business, and I've decided to go back to the city, since you won't come out here now that you have met Ed. Tell Ed that your rich uncle wants to meet him, and take you both out to dinner. That's the truth. I'll wine and dine you both, give him a hint as to the family fortune, and see how he reacts."

"I wish you could join us Uncle Billy, instead of always having to hide how much you two guys love each other."

"I wish so also. In a perfect world it would be possible. Don't worry about us, Johnny. We are happy and quite used to our situation."

"I don't know what I would have done if I didn't have you two guys. I want so much to commit to Ed and live with him, but now I am scared stiff of his reaction to my wealth. Knowing you two have my back, makes me so much more optimistic."

"Let's meet Wednesday evening at The Plaza bar at six, and have dinner there at seven. I'll make the reservations."

Sunday evening, they all returned to the city in separate chauffer driven limos. Johnny's chauffer let him out at his Greenwich Village apartment, and Johnny immediately ran to Ed's bar. Ed's eyes lit up when he saw Johnny. It was almost closing time, and Johnny begged Ed to come home with him.

"I want us to be together every day and every night," Johnny said, and my apartment is bigger than yours. Move in with me tomorrow."

Ed ran out from behind the bar. He nearly crushed Johnny in a bear hug like only he could give. They kissed, and the few patrons, who remained, as the bar prepared to close, applauded them and yelled for more.

Neither of them slept that night. They made love for at least five hours before Johnny drew the blackout shades, and they fell asleep, holding each other tightly.

When they entered the bar at The Plaza Wednesday evening, Ed's eyes nearly popped out of his head. He stopped dead in his tracks and Johnny was prompted to say, "I told you that Uncle Clay was very well to do." He avoided saying rich, or filthy rich, or anything which would hint at Clay's vast wealth.

Johnny scanned the room. Uncle Clay wasn't there yet. "Let's wait at the bar," he said to Ed. As soon as they were seated the bartender approached them.

"I haven't seen you in ages, Mr. Winston. Will you have the usual?"

Johnny nodded.

"And what will you have, sir," he asked Ed.

Ed looked totally perplexed. Finally he said, "The same."

He turned to Johnny and said, "I thought your last name was Blake."

Johnny remembered that he had given Ed his card with the name John Blake on it. He had also shown Ed his novels and they bore his pen name, John Blake.

"Oh, that's my pen name. Didn't I ever tell you my real name is Winston? My uncle is Clayton Winston. He was my dad's kid brother. You'll like him. He's gay, you know."

Ed was confused now, and not in a good way. He grew silent and wary. Suddenly they heard a voice. "Winston, you old devil, I haven't seen you in ages. Where the fuck have you been?"

The voice threw his arms around Johnny and hugged him. Ed grew even more unhappy. He was certain that this stranger meant something to Johnny.

"Eddie," Johnny said, "this is my old college room mate, Franklin Pearson. He purposely didn't mention that the college was Harvard. Eddie didn't feel any better. He envisioned the two of them fucking away every night in a dorm room. It had never happened. As far as Frank was concerned they were both straight.

"Frank, meet my friend, Edwin Rose."

The two men shook hands cordially.

"I haven't seen you at The Club since Easter Sunday," Frank said. "What's with you?"

Ed's eyebrows rose up. The Club? Did Frank mean a gay club other than where he worked? It sure didn't sound that way.

Johnny opened his mouth to speak, and was saved by the bell. Uncle Clay stepped in. Frank and Clay said hello, and then Frank started to leave. "I'll see you around," he said.

"Regards to your wife," Johnny said, and Ed felt just a tad better.

Johnny introduced two of the three men in his life, and Uncle Clay said that their reservation was some minutes off, and he had time to join them at the bar for a drink. He ordered a Glenfiddich on the rocks. Ed knew that it was one of the most expensive scotches money could buy. They didn't even carry it at his bar. He was growing more uncomfortable by the minute. He was unused to being surrounded by such wealth. Johnny told him his uncle was rich, but now he knew that his friends were wealthy also. He reasoned that Johnny didn't share his uncle's wealth since he lived so close to the vest. Still, he was very confused at the moment.

At the dinner table, Uncle Clay said to both young men, "I've taken the liberty of ordering for us. I hope you won't mind. This is a special occasion and I want you guys to have a meal you'll never forget. I know you are moving in together, and I couldn't be more pleased. I want us to really celebrate."

In spite of all his misgivings, Ed liked Clay immediately. Except for his expensive culinary tastes, he didn't act uppity at all. He was an honest, down to earth sort of fellow. Even though Ed did not recognize the wine Clay ordered, nor any of the dishes, everything was absolutely delicious. Clay was right. It was a memorable meal, and one he would always remember. He could not ever hope to live like this, and he made up his mind to savor every moment.

"Are you taking any vacation time this summer?" Clay asked Ed.

Ed nodded.

"Johnny, why don't you take Ed out to The Hamptons on his vacation, and use MY PLACE. If you tell me when that will be, I'll see to it that only Billy and I are there, no guests. Would that be something you would like to do?'

Ed was dumb struck. Who was Billy, and would he fit in, in The Hamptons?

When he didn't answer, Clay said, "That was stupid of me. Of course, you will want to visit family back home. Where is home, Ed? Obviously it's not New York, not with that accent."

"I'm from a small town in Minnesota, and I won't be going home. My father has disowned me because I'm gay. As a matter of fact I'd love to see your place in The Hamptons. Thank you, sir."

"Drop the sir. I'm Clay."

When Ed excused himself to use the men's room, Clay whispered to Johnny, "Don't go back to The Village tonight. You can walk home from here. Take him to your house and get it over with. Somehow I feel that it will be alright."

Johnny had no time to answer when Ed returned to the table.

They lingered over an after dinner aperitif, and finally Clay said that he needed to get home. Johnny and Ed stood up to say their goodbyes and thank Clay for this wonderful evening. Ed shook Clay's hand with a firm, strong, as if he meant it grip, and Johnny kissed his uncle chastely on the lips. Ed envied their intimacy. It was something he never had with his father.

"Let's have one more for the road," Johnny said when they were alone. Ed nodded. When the drinks were delivered Johnny raised his glass. "To us!" he said.

"To us!"

"I have something to tell you," Johnny said, and he took hold of Ed's hand. Ed was very surprised. Johnny never showed affection in public, especially in a straight environment. Nevertheless he did not object.

"I grew up just a few short blocks from here. It's a beautiful night. I'd like to take a walk, and show you where my childhood was spent.'

"I'd love that. It'll be fun. I wish I could show you my farm in Minnesota."

"Who knows? Maybe someday! Anything is possible."

They walked slowly along Central Park West. Johnny shocked Ed again by taking his hand. The park was on their left, big, dark and very foreboding. Stately brownstones lined the other side of the street. As they walked Ed stared long and hard at the homes. He tried to get a glimpse inside any house that had a light on.

"I'll bet you have to be pretty rich to live on this street. Did you live off one of the side streets?" Ed wanted to know.

"You'll see."

They passed a free standing old mansion and Johnny said, "Uncle Clay lives here. We aren't far from my place now."

Ed was beginning to feel really queasy. Something was definitely off course, and he didn't like it.

They reached Uncle Clay's corner and crossed the street. On the other side of the street they had just crossed, was another stately mansion. It was on the corner and had a gated garden surrounding it. Johnny stopped and examined the house. Ed did the same.

"It's a beautiful place," Ed offered. "Do you know the people who live here?"

"I know them very well. Come with me." Ed followed Johnny as he took out a key and opened the front gate. He climbed the steps to the front porch, inserted another key in the front door and entered. Ed followed dumbly. He was unprepared for the magnificence which awaited him on the other side of the door. The front hall entrance was bigger than his entire house in Minnesota. It was two stories high, and a spiral marble staircase led to the next level. The staircase had hand carved rails, but the magnificence of the entry was a mammoth crystal chandelier that hung the length of two stories. Ed stared at the chandelier in utter awe, unable to move.

Johnny led him into a modest sized room off the entry way. "This is the library," he said. He motioned Ed to sit on a settee, and went to a bar at the side of the room. He poured each of them an aperitif and sat down next to Ed.

"I don't understand," Ed said. "What are we doing here? I want to go home."

"We are home," Johnny said. Ed put his drink on a small telephone table and began to shake.

"What do you mean?"

"Ed, please believe me when I tell you that I love you beyond a poet's words. I want to spend my life with you, every minute, every hour and every year. I pray you feel the same way, even when I tell you that I am a multi-millionaire."

"You lied to me."

"I swear I never lied. I just kept it a secret. Too many guys were after me for my money. I had to be sure. Please don't hate me. I'd die if you hated me."

"Fuck you John Blake or John Winston or whoever you are. I love you too much to hate you. But you gotta realize what a shock this is to me. I don't wanna be a kept man. I gotta pay my way."

"You will. I swear."

"How?"

"I'll lend you the money for college and med school. You can pay me back every cent, and when you are a doctor you can contribute to our household. I just don't want to lose you."

"What will you do when I'm spending the next ten years in school?"

"I'll write. But I'll write main stream stuff. I'm a good writer. You'll see that it's true when you read my books. I'm committing myself to you a hundred percent. Please accept me. Please."

"I'll bet you have silk bed sheets."

"Whatever made you say that?"

"Well do you?"

"Yes."

"Well then, let's go up to our bedroom. I've never fucked on silk sheets before."

At the end of Ed's junior year at NYU, Johnny's first book was published under his own name. The publishing company promoted it vigorously, and the reviews were glowing. It was an epic tale of murder and revenge among the wealthiest people in America. Johnny was able to draw characterizations from people he knew in real life, but he always portrayed them in the best possible light. On the other hand his villains and murderers were pure fiction. He began to receive substantial royalties as his book remained on the NY Times best seller list for over a year. It was still there when Ed graduated as valedictorian of his class.

Ed could have gone anywhere in the country to med school, but he chose Columbia, so he could remain in New York and live at home. He even did his residency at St. Vincent's in downtown Manhattan. In time he became a board certified oncologist, and practiced in New York. He developed innovative new procedures in seeking to cure cancer, and his reputation brought him patients from around the globe.

One morning, before entering his examination room to greet his first patient of the day, Ed removed the patient's chart from a wall tray hanging outside the door. The patient was from out of town, and Ed had not seen him before. He needed to read his medical history, and familiarize himself with his treatment to date. When he opened the chart, Ed staggered against the wall. The patient was his father, Lars Rose.

He returned to his office and buzzed his nurse. "Please tell the patient in Room #1 that I will be delayed, but I'll be with him in a few minutes." He sat at his desk, and his mind took him back to a time when he was only eleven years old.

His mother had died of cancer several months earlier. That afternoon the school bus let him off as usual, and he ran to the house to change and see what chores his father had for him. As he entered through the front door, he heard his sister crying and begging her father to stop. Ellen was thirteen at the time. The crying was coming from her bedroom. Ed rushed in to witness his father slapping her around.

"Cunt," he yelled, "you can't even make a decent sandwich."

The boy tried to pull his father off his sister, but he was drunk and crazed. Ed was no match for his burly father. He threw Ed against the wall, and Ed lost consciousness. He awakened to sharp blows to his face and body. His father was now beating him up. "I'll teach you to lay your hands on me," the drunken man said, and he unloaded yet another barrage against his son.

Of course, after he sobered up, he begged both of his children to forgive him. They were too young to strike out on their own, so they remained at home, and an uneasy peace prevailed. Whenever Lars got drunk, the children tried to disappear, but when he caught them, he would beat them. After he sobered up, he would beg them to forgive him, and the uneasy peace would be restored. A few years later, when Ed came out to him, the peace was broken for good.

Ed steeled himself and entered the examination room. The man that was his big farmer father was now a shriveled old man. The effects of the cancer had taken its toll. He was with a woman near forty years old, who was still very attractive. It was his sister, Ellen, of course. They did not seem to recognize him, and just in case they were wondering, Ed said, "We have the same name I see."

"I had a brother who was named Edwin as well, but he's dead," Ellen said.

Ed was shocked. Apparently Lars had told Ellen that he was dead. Ed's male nurse entered the room, and asked Ellen politely to leave while Dr. Rose examined her father.

Jed Bergen handed the doctor a disk and said, "Here are Mr. Rose's X-Rays." He put the disk in the computer and Ed examined them carefully. They showed every angle of Lars's diseased kidneys.

Then Ed examined his father's MRI report. The cancer had not spread and seemed to be in the kidneys only.

"I'm afraid the kidneys are too far gone for any kind of radical treatment except surgery," Ed said clinically and rather coldly. "Do you think your daughter would be willing to donate a kidney to you if she is a match? It's your only option, and if you don't remove both diseased kidneys very quickly, you will probably die in three months or so."

Lars hung his head. "I had hoped that one of your new treatments might help me."

"You should have come to me months ago. It's too late now."

"I can tell you that we have already determined that my daughter is not a match."

"The waiting list for a kidney is too long for you to depend on getting one from the kidney bank. Also your age is against you. Do you have any other relatives who might be a match?"

"My daughter thinks my son is dead, but I threw the dirty faggot out of my house years ago, and I don't know if he's dead or alive. At any rate I wouldn't know how to reach him."

Ed arched his back and gritted his teeth. "How would you feel about it if we found him, and he was a match?"

"I wouldn't want his kidney anyway. It's probably loaded with the HIV virus."

Ed excused himself and left the room. He clenched his fists and got hold of his emotions before returning.

"I'll see what I can do about finding a compatible kidney as soon as possible. Where are you staying while you are in town?"

"At a run down hotel on B Street in lower Manhattan."

"Does your daughter have to return to Minnesota? Does she have a family?"

"No, she never married. She takes care of me."

"That surprises me. She's a very attractive woman."

"Something happened to her in her childhood, and she shies away from men."

Ed began to cry inside, but he didn't let his father see his pain. He took down the name of the hotel where they were staying, and rushed to his office. He re-examined his father's medical records, and determined that he himself was a good match, and a promising kidney donor.

He sent Ellen and Lars away with a promise that he would be in touch if he could find a match. He had his receptionist cancel as many of his patients for the day as she could reach. He was able to shorten his office hours, and he rushed home to Johnny. He found his soul mate sitting in the library at his computer, working on his latest novel. It was about a big city oncologist. Ed was advising him on technical matters.

Ed fell into Johnny's arms. "Kiss me and hug me," he pleaded. "I need you so badly at the moment."

"You don't have to beg me to kiss you. What the hell has happened?"

Ed filled Johnny in on the events of the day. "What should I do?" he pleaded with Johnny, knowing full well that Johnny could not advise him. The enigma was all his.

After a long silence, Johnny said. "You don't owe the bastard a kidney after what he did to you and your sister. Besides he might reject it, and die anyhow."

"I know, but my sister needs psychiatric help. I want to be able to help her."

"I think you should sleep on it. I know you'll make the right decision. In the meantime I know just what you need to relax you."

"I'm not in the mood to make love."

"Actually I was thinking about a gin and tonic." They both broke out laughing, and Ed did indeed relax.

It seems that Ed was in the mood in the morning, and he and Johnny made love from about 5 AM to 7 AM. Ed made his decision in the shower.

As soon as he got to his office, he called the hotel where his sister and father were staying. He was relieved when Ellen answered. It was she he wanted to talk to.

"Ellen, this is Dr. Rose. I think I have a donor for your father. I have a full load of patients today, but could you come into my office about 5 PM. They'll all be gone by then."

"Did I hear right? Did you say that you had a kidney donor for my father?"

"Yes, you heard right."

"God bless you, doctor. We are all packed and ready to go back to Minnesota, but we'll be there."

When the last patient left, Ellen and Lars had been waiting about fifteen minutes. Jed told Ellen that the doctor wanted to see her alone before he saw her father.

"What for?" the surly old man spat between his teeth. "Does he want to play with her titties or something?"

"There's no need for that kind of talk here," the nurse lectured him. "I have a good mind to tell the doctor what you said, and ask him not to treat you."

"Sorry," Lars mumbled.

Ed made sure that Ellen was comfortably seated and then he sat down behind his desk. He clasped his hands and searched for the right words. Nothing came to him so he said simply, "Ellen, your brother Edwin is not dead. I'm your brother."

Ellen clasped her hand to her mouth to keep from screaming out loud. She jumped up and Ed stood also. They embraced long and hard, and Ed kept kissing her on her forehead.

"Why, why?" she asked, unable to ask more.

"I told Dad that I was gay, and he kicked me out of the house. He warned me not to try to contact him or you again, or he would harm you. I was young and scared. I obeyed him as I always had."

Ellen looked around his office at all the certificates on Ed's wall.

"You've done well, Edwin. I am so proud of you."

"Ellen, darling, I want to donate a kidney to Dad."

"How can you even consider it, after all he has done to you?"

"You and he are the only family I have. It's the least I can do. In the meantime, I want you to move into my home, and I want to arrange therapy for you. You need to forget all the horrible things he did to you, and put it behind you. I have."

"I don't know. I'm very confused. I'll have to think about it, but first things, first. Are we going to tell him?"

"At first, I thought that I'd let him think that the donor was anonymous, but I can't let you stay in that sleazy hotel. I want you home with me. In that case he would have to know."

"This is all too much for me. I don't know what to say."

"Say yes."

"I guess so."

"Who is taking care of the farm while you are away?"

"Oh, Edwin, we lost the farm years ago. I've been supporting both of us on my salary as a librarian. Now even the library may close. The young people today have the internet to do research, and if they do read, they read on IPads and Kindles and other digital devices of that sort. I should be thinking about retraining myself."

"There's plenty of time to talk about that. Anyway, I don't want you to worry about finances. Shall we call him in now?"

The nurse brought Lars into the office and sat him down in a chair next to Ellen.

"I hear you have a kidney for me," he said curtly. "I have no insurance and I can't pay for anything, so you might as well send me home."

Ed held his temper. He took a deep breath and said, "Listen to me, you miserable old man. I'm your son, Edwin, and I'm giving you a kidney. I have more money than you ever dreamed of. From now on you do what I tell you. Your life is in my hands now. I'm taking over and issuing the orders, and you'll do as I tell you. If I have to, I'll get a court order appointing me your medical surrogate. I've scheduled our surgery for next Thursday at Columbia Presbyterian. Dr. Farber is the best surgeon in New York, and he's going to operate on you while his associate operates on me."

Lars was silent. He stared long and hard at Ed.

"Yes, I can see now. You are Edwin. You got AIDS?"

"Shut up, you stupid old man," Ellen yelled.

Lars shut up.

"I've sent my chauffer to check you out of that flea trap you're in. He'll bring all your belongings to my home, and my maid is setting up two rooms for you. We'll go now. I have a cab waiting downstairs, and dinner waiting at home. I don't want to keep Johnny wondering where we are."

"Who is Johnny?" Lars asked.

"He's my partner, old man, my life partner. Get used to it."

The surgeries went well, and once the cancer was out of him, Lars was a changed man. He recognized the sacrifice his son had made for him, and he acknowledged it to Ed so many times that Ed had to beg him to stop thanking him. Johnny charmed Lars the moment they met, and the two men bonded as well as could be expected.

Ellen began therapy, and she was able to get a job at the main branch of the New York Public library. Johnny and Ed were heavy supporters of the library, and Johnny made a few phone calls. Of course, nobody said anything about that to Ellen.

After a few weeks of therapy at the doctor's office, coupled with occupational therapy at the library, Ellen was happy and relaxed. It was an added bonus that she didn't have to worry about her father or about their finances. One of her co-workers asked her to go to a basketball game with him, and she gladly accepted.

Both she and Lars began to talk about getting a place of their own, and it was Johnny who said that it was nonsense. The house was large enough for all of them. He just wouldn't hear of it, and they finally relented. Things got even better when Ellen announced that she was moving in with her new friend, and that they would be getting married in the spring.

Ed wanted to make a big wedding, but Ellen insisted that they were both too old for that stuff, and they planned to elope. She finally agreed to a small family reception, when they got back from their honeymoon.

One afternoon, while Ed was at work, Lars talked Johnny into a chess game. They hadn't played very long when Lars asked, "Do you think Edwin will ever forgive me for all the terrible things I did to him?"

"He already has, Lars. I can assure you of that."

"I love him, Johnny, but I don't know how to tell him."

"Don't worry yourself. He knows."

"Johnny?"

"Yes?"

"I love you too."

Soon after Johnny brought Lars and Ed home from the hospital, Clay and Billy came over for a visit. They wanted to meet Ed's father and sister badly. Since Clay's father had died, the only family either of them had was Johnny and Ed. For them this was an opportunity to broaden family ties.

Ellen and Lars nearly passed out when they saw Billy. They recognized him immediately. The first thing Billy did was lay one of his hands on Ed's head and the other on Lars. He recited some healing prayers, and asked Jesus for his help in healing Ed and his father.

"Can I ask you something privately?" Lars asked him.

"Whisper in my ear."

"Are Johnny and Eddie going to go to hell for being gay?"

"Never," Billy stated. "God loves them just as much as he loves all his other children. He created them, and he blesses their love. Don't worry about them. Pray instead for the bigots who curse them."

Lars said nothing further. Inside he was grateful for what Billy told him. He had heard the man preach on TV often enough, and he believed him.

Billy was away a good deal of the time, and Ed returned to work as soon as he was able. Johnny locked himself in his study all day to write, so Clay became a regular visitor to Johnny's house. He and Lars became really good friends. They challenged each other to extensive scrabble games, quicker gin rummy games, and fun cribbage games. Very few people played cribbage any more, so the two men were delighted to have a player.

When Lars was up and about, Clay took him to lunch at his club. Lars wasn't quite dressed appropriately for the dress code requirements of the place, but nobody dared say anything to Clay. Clay felt the stares, however, and the next Saturday he took Ellen and Lars on an all day shopping spree.

They visited the best shops and boutiques on Fifth and Madison Avenues. When Ellen modeled some of the dresses and business suits she was considering, both men oohed and aahed. Even Lars had not realized what a beauty his daughter was. Clay could only think that she was as beautiful as Ed was handsome. But the big surprise was Lars. Dressed appropriately, and with a stylish haircut, he was an older version of his son. If it wasn't for his gray hair, he could almost have been mistaken as Ed's brother. He was six feet, five inches of ideal manhood.

Clay began to spend many evenings at Johnny's house when Billy was out of town. He and Lars would sit and chat for hours. Mostly Lars would lament his past. He admitted that he had a drinking problem and that when he was drunk, he would abuse his children. Then he would begin to cry. Clay would do his best to console him, and assure him that he had long since been forgiven, and it was time for him to forget the past and look forward to the future.

The summer was coming. Ellen was living with her new husband. Johnny and Ed were busy with their careers. Clay didn't want Lars to be alone and he asked him to spend the summer with him in East Hampton. To everyone's surprise, Lars agreed immediately.

The big day came, and Lars could not get enough of eyeing the scenery as the chauffeured car drove him and Clay to East Hampton. He was as excited as a young kid. After they got settled, Clay told Lars that Reverend Billy would be joining them in about two weeks and staying for five or six weeks. Lars thought that was exciting news.

It had been years since Clay entertained young men for the weekend, so he would not have to explain to Lars that aspect of his own former life. When Billy was in residence, he and Clay spent their time quietly and alone.

In the evenings Lars and Clay sat on the veranda playing scrabble, cribbage or gin rummy. Clay would sip a gin and tonic and Lars would sip iced tea. The days were peaceful and idyllic. Then Billy arrived. Lars was as happy about it as Clay...at first.

Billy had no intention of interrupting the evenings on the veranda. While Clay played card games with Lars, Billy worked on future sermons, and spent long hours on the phone attending to the business of his enterprise. Lars still tired easily, and he usually went to bed before Clay and Billy.

One evening, Lars was halfway to his room when he realized that he had left his sweater on the veranda. He started to return there when he stopped dead in his tracks. Clay and Billy were locked in a passionate embrace. It was easy to see that they were kissing with open mouths, and active tongue action. Lars was appalled. He turned to go to his room and bumped into a chair. Clay and Billy heard the noise, and saw Lars rushing away.

"We're busted," Billy said.

"We need to talk to him," Clay moaned.

They knocked on Lars's door.

"Go away...please."

"We aren't going anywhere. We need to talk to you."

"We have nothing to talk about. I'd like to go home in the morning."

"I thought we were friends," Clay said.

"I think we still are, but I still don't want to talk about it."

"It's a beautiful night, Lars. A night like this is one of God's most spectacular miracles," Billy said. "Please come out and we'll talk out on the veranda."

There was silence for a moment, and then the door opened. Lars could not look at them. His head was down.

"I'm cold," he said.

"Your sweater is on the veranda. Come." Clay took his hand and led him outside. Lars sat on a chair which faced a small settee. Billy and Clay sat on the settee.

There was silence for quite a long time. It was Lars who actually talked first. "If we are such good friends, Clay, why didn't you tell me?"

"Your right, I should have told you. Obviously Billy must stay very much closeted, and we have to be very secretive. I guess I felt that the less people who know the better. In fact, only Johnny and Ed know...and now you. I must beg you to keep our secret."

"Of course I will. I just don't understand the whole thing."

"There's nothing to understand, dear Lars," Billy said. "It's a case of I love you and you love me. We can't help that we are both men. All we know is that we love each other, we are soul mates, and that is that."

"What about your servants? Surely they must know."

"We count on their loyalty," Clay said. "They have all been with me for a long time. Some of them were in service to my parents. We retire them with more annuities than any employer in the world. We can only hope that they will keep our secret. Billy and I have been together for half our life times, and none of the servants has said anything yet. I think they love us; they especially love Billy."

Silence again! "What are you thinking?" Billy asked. "Isn't it enough for you that we love each other?"

Lars began to cry. "I haven't loved anyone since my wife died. I feel empty, like life is passing me by, like God is punishing me for my past sins."

"Stop talking that way. God loves you. You'll see. His love will shine on you. You are healing nicely and getting well. He will guide you to love. I know it." Billy stood up and put his arms around Lars.

"Are you still upset with us?" Clay asked.

"Hardly! I love you Clay, and I know I will love Billy also. The truth is Ellen has her guy, and I envy her. Ed has Johnny, and I envy him, and now I am just a mite jealous of you too."

Clay then joined Lars and Billy in a group hug.

"I have an idea for my birthday next month," Billy whispered in Clay's ear.

Later that night, in their room, Billy said, "My secretary grew up on a farm in Wisconsin, and I think that Lars is just the kind of guy she would want to meet. Her first husband was a city slicker who skipped out on her years ago."

"Add matchmaking to your church duties," Clay whispered back.

Clay proceeded to plan a birthday party for Billy in East Hampton. He invited Ellen and Joe Connelly, her husband, Ed and Johnny, and finally, Betty Johannsen, Billy's long time secretary. They all came in one car, and Clay made sure that Betty and Lars were seated next to each other at the dinner table.

When Betty laid eyes on Lars Rose for the first time, her heart flipped. She hadn't seen anyone so handsome, and so true to her image of a real man, since she had left Wisconsin.

Lars was not so impressed. Betty was a comely woman, but no beauty. Lars did admire her figure. He thought that with more stylish clothes, a visit to a salon, and a new hair style, she would be quite attractive. During the evening as the two mid-westerners began to discuss what life was like growing up on a farm, Betty got more and more attractive to Lars, and Lars lost none of his charms to Betty.

"Did you know that although Billy travels all over the world, I spend most of my time at his office in New York?" Betty asked Lars.

"I wasn't aware, but that's good to know."

Betty was just a couple of years younger than Lars, and that means that she was no spring chicken. She had no time for coyness. "Why don't we have dinner at my place sometime soon? I'm a good old down home kind of cook."

"Now that there's an offer I would never refuse."

"How about the first Saturday you come back to New York then? I'll give you my address and telephone number before I leave."

Clay and Billy were beaming. There little plot was working.

Billy set aside his nine AM hour every day, and he prayed for the complete recovery of Lars and Ed. He prayed especially hard that the kidney should not be rejected. Lars grew stronger every day. His ashen complexion grew rosier and rosier.

"You look like your name now," Clay remarked one day as they were starting a card game.

When he returned from East Hampton, Lars began to date Betty regularly. He had fallen in love with New York, and he took her to his first Broadway musical, to the opera and to the ballet. All of these art forms were new to him, and he loved them all. One time they went to an opening at The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Billy had provided the tickets. That was their night to remember.

When he dropped her off at home, Betty asked him in for coffee and cake. As they were sipping coffee, Betty said, "It's time, you know."

Lars knew, but he pretended innocence. "Time for what?" he asked.

"You big oaf of a farmhand, you know what," she fired back.

Lars smiled. He took Betty in his arms, and that was the night they made love for the first time. It was the first of hundreds of nights to come.

A few weeks later, while Clay was visiting Lars at Johnny's, Lars told Clay that he was going to marry Betty, and would be moving in with her as soon as he broke the news to Johnny and Ed.

Clay screamed out in joy. That's wonderful," he cried. "Just absolutely fucking wonderful. You better let Betty continue to work, or Billy will have your balls."

"Not to worry. She'll never leave Billy, and I wouldn't want her to."

"Good, so you and I can continue to play cards when all our loved ones are at work."

The night that Lars broke the news to his family, Ed and Johnny were lying cuddled up in bed together. They were both naked.

"Are you happy sweetie?" Johnny asked.

"I have never been happier in my life. Not that you haven't always made me happy, but I have my family back now. My sister and my father. I thought I had lost them forever."

Ed felt Johnny's hand start to caress his cock. He laid back, closed his eyes, and sighed. Then he felt Johnny's tongue stroking up and down his newly hardened manhood. Moaning loudly, he had the most delicious orgasm he had experienced in a very long time.