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The Schuyler Fortune II: Sweet Pea 2
We consoled ourselves with the idea that only vestiges of 'kid behavior' still existed in Eric and Loren. We might have been slightly mistaken.
The actual day that changed their life was February 16. On that day one year, Carol took the boys, now seniors in high school, to a destination in Manhattan. Once inside the limousine, they asked her where they were going.
"I'm taking you guys to see what I should have shown you a year ago."
She asked the chauffeur to take them to the Manhattan Repository.
It would have been odd if the twins hadn't noticed that we had more bling than the average family. They, after all, enjoyed Rainier, the Sikorsky helicopters, and lived in a mansion filled with priceless art and more in the basement. They probably had no idea of our net worth, but they were never exposed to worry about hunger or want of life's essentials as do ninety plus per cent of the world's population so it wasn't on their radar.
The group approached the Repository door; Carol stepped in front of a sensor that scanned her retina and palm print. Eric and Loren rolled their eyes.
Here was a situation for you, they decided...their own grandmother was taking them to a sleazy old alley in a limousine and standing in front of a metal door. What was this? Some kind of weird New York club or what?
The door opened; as Carol and the twins stood in a small anteroom, a uniformed security guard greeted them from behind a thick glass window with a slit in it. They noticed the outer door shut quietly behind them.
Their grandmother slipped her passport through the slit and it was scanned and came back to her.
Grandma Carol told the guy that she had brought Eric and Loren for a viewing and to add them to the list. The said security guy asked them to put their palms up to a pad on the wall. Then they were asked to remove their glasses and contacts prior to approaching, then to look into a camera with their eyes wide open for a few seconds without blinking.
"Done and done," he said, "welcome to the repository, gentlemen. We will scan your passports next time."
This was getting really creepy. Viewing' and repository' were words they normally associated with bodies. Dead ones.
Eric and Loren had no wish to see any bodies, in fact had never done, and weren't going to start now even if it was their grandmother leading the charge and might have bolted except for her soothing, kind voice which, directed at them, stopped them in their tracks.
"I used to spend a lot of time here," said grandma Carol.
The statement wasn't necessarily encouraging. The fleeting idea became a full-fledged thought. Grandma Carol might have just gotten better after a long illness somehow and now maybe she was the great person they thought they knew and loved having a relapse or something. Perhaps she had been forced to stay here. "Lordy...," began Eric.
It was the calm kindness in her voice that both soothed and scared them to death. Their nerves were vibrating, on overload. Something was really wrong here and worse, they were about to find out.
For the first time in years, the twins grasped hands with really dilated pupils and trembling hands and watched another `freakin' door open. "I don't know about this...," this in a shaking squeak from Loren.
They kind of moved through the inner doorway and found themselves on a platform with a metal railing high above an enormous room that seemed to stretch a long, long way to the other end, like in a movie where evidence gets hidden, misfiled in plain sight amid zillions of other items.
Eric and Loren's combined child-like sense of drama came to high pitch, then subsided. No long lines of shackled prisoners or shrieking, insane patients in white gowns were in sight.
Steps led downward on both sides of the platform to the room's floor where metal stacks that reminded them of a Home Depot store were neatly organized as high stacks of shelves with long, long aisles in between.
A few employees with those rolling stairs were tending packages, crates really, in the aisles.
Another huge room to their right contained small numbered glass cases under spotlight on pedestals at shoulder height, an electronic scale in each with a velvet bag on it.
The crates weren't scary at all. None were much thicker than a large briefcase. Some were little, four square feet; others larger up to twenty feet on a side.
On closer inspection, the crates were more like reinforced suitcases like a guitar case. The room was quiet. Check. The floors were carpeted. Check. The twins could hear a hum of air conditioning keeping humidity and temperature constant. Check.
They walked down with Carol to the nearest row. Large letters marked the rows and each crate had a number and a label. The closest row was marked R'. The closest crate had a number and a label. On the label was the name Rembrandt' and a 5-digit number. Other crates bore the names Rembrandt, Renoir, Rafael, Redouté, Remington, Rivera, and Roslin on that side of the aisle.
"What's with all the cases, grandma?" Eric asked.
"Guys," she said, "my dad collected art objects, paintings primarily, and gave them to me in his will. He never got to meet you. He would have loved you both like I do. I have added to the collection during of my life. Most of it is here."
"The trust buys these sometimes when museums can't afford to buy them and in return, the museum gets to buy it back, usually at a higher price, if we decide to sell it later sometime. If they don't buy it in five years, we can keep it or sell it. Since the trust has a particular tax structure, the amount of tax we pay on the difference between what we paid for the objects and what amount we sell it for (called 'capital gain' is less than it might be if privately held."
"Usually we keep them and lend them to museums sometimes to show with other paintings by the same artist or perhaps from the same period of time for people to enjoy and study."
"Some items are on loan now to museums around the world. That helps them to attract visitors. Museums need people to visit for income that helps pay expenses, so the larger museums continue sending us great paintings to buy and hold for them before other dealers and collectors and museums know about their availability on the open market."
"Any questions so far?"
"Who owns all these?" Eric was busting to know.
"Your dad, Michael, owns everything here in the Repository since he is the beneficiary of the Trust."
"Does our other dad own this too?"
"No," she replied. "He has access to the fortune though because Michael and Marcus are best friends." Carol laughed. "You have to keep your friends happy! I think it's a law in New York."
Carol told them that Marcus' mother Blossom had been her nurse when she was in a coma and took great care of her. That is why Carol considered Blossom and her two sons to be family.
She added that Michael and Marcus met and roomed together in college which meant another link in that family chain. She told them that most of the family owned some personal paintings that they liked.
"What's in that room?" Loren was curious.
"Come see."
They walked into the other, smaller, room and she reached into a clear glass box through a door and picked up a bag. Instantly an alarm jangled, and the boys jumped.
"Grandma, don't...," they begged.
She laughed. "Security knows we're here, guys. I'm not going to steal from my son or his heirs and neither are you. Chill."
From the bag she took out two egg-sized rubies and put one in each boy's hand to hold for a minute.
"What are these, grandma?"
"Those are rubies from Ceylon."
"Where is that?"
"Oh, sorry, I mean Sri Lanka. They changed the name."
The boys nodded wisely. They knew this. Covered like a rug on geography, Eric and Loren had gotten good grades in it.
"Were they expensive?" Loren again was eager to know.
"Priceless," answered his grandmother. "In the first place they aren't for sale and there are none like them in the world that we know about."
"These belonged to a maharajah. a high king in India. He bought them a long time ago and wore them in his white turban on his head for special occasions."
"Just after a battle with English soldiers, the rubies disappeared and later reappeared in Sri Lanka where they were originally mined."
"The trust was able to acquire these, and we've had them for more than forty years. We have a great relationship with many of the royal families around the world who sometimes send representatives to look through our collections for special items for their own royal collections or as gifts to other royal families or for royal bits and pieces such as crowns and scepters."
She elaborated further. I intend to teach them while I still can, she thought to herself.
"`Priceless' is a word to describe the huge, sometimes unknown, worth of an object that no one can or will buy because they don't have enough money to buy it or because the object is not for sale for any price."
"A price can be attached to an object as soon as a sale takes place, of course. For some of these gems, we were the first to buy them from collectors who had acquired them centuries ago for their families to enjoy and there had been no sale to price them in recent decades or centuries."
"An expert can sometimes guess or put a value to an object for purposes of planning a sale.
"For instance, if I were to sell these at auction, I would expect a bidder to pay three hundred million dollars for this perfect one in your hand," Carol continued.
Loren's hand started to shake, and he dropped the ruby that he held.
He dove for it and caught it like the baseball player he was before it hit the floor. The floor was thickly carpeted anyway but he finally stood clutching the tennis ball-sized ruby, sweating with relief.
"You can relax now," Carol said, "It's a pretty hard rock and doesn't break easily."
"Do all of these bags..."
"Yes. Some bags have diamonds or sapphires or rubies or emeralds of similar worth, a few have ingots of rare precious metals."
They left the Repository after replacing the gems and arrived back at the Museum. She asked the twins to meet her in her suite. She told them that each new trust beneficiary would own (read, manage and spend) the fortune.
Carol compared it to a plant that needs tending, just as her father had explained it to her.
She explained the job went from person to person according to trust rules. She told them again about sharing the family wealth and the final decision making by the trust beneficiary, including deciding who the next beneficiary would be.
There was a trust board who made some decisions about trust operations, but the board members were all appointed by the beneficiary.
She said that family members were pretty happy with the arrangement. Barbara had embraced politics and met her goal of being President, a mother, and wife. She had access to the family money, but not final control, which was fine with her.
She said that Marcus and Blossom and John shared the family money in many ways and were considered part of the family but were not owners legally. Carol could see that hadn't sunk in.
She started to say something about the option of Michael and Marcus marrying and decided that topic was best left to their dads to handle.
"I was declared legally dead after the car crash; no one knew where I was located for years so a court declared Michael to be the beneficiary. When I woke up some years later, I was happy with Michael's work. I was eager for him to continue."
"The Trust will continue through Michael's heir someday when he cannot do the work needed or dies."
"The trust operates in the state of Pennsylvania. Documents on file there have the final say on how it operates. The trust was set up by my dad and can't be changed ever unless the State of Pennsylvania declares it inactive."
This got through. On some level, the twins sensed a tank moving their way. Again, they held hands, sat up straight, and looked soberly at their grandmother. They didn't say a word.
"There is a possibility that Michael could choose you two to share the responsibility someday. I would rather you don't mention this conversation to him or anyone else. It would put Michael and me into a difficult position and in some ways, it isn't my business, but it kind of is and I wanted to let you know in advance to let you prepare for things that might happen."
"The really big things that come along in one's life are easier to manage if one is prepared. That is the most important thing I will ever tell you other than I will love you both forever. Please let this be a talk just between us."
Blossom's Challenge #3: "It isn't fair and I'm not doing it." Blossom's Solution #3: "Whooping your ass isn't fair either. I don't like it and it isn't fair I have to do it all the time. Why don't you just do what I told you to do and be fair to me this time."
From that day, the twins prepared as hard for the future as they had run any race as kids; they accelerated as fast, as determined as ever, with a united purpose to be ready for something. Nobody but Carol knew what had changed them, but everyone noticed.
Michael and Marcus were seated in the dining room at the museum one evening with Eric and Loren for vegetarian night, a weekly tradition at the house.
The cook would take a can of textured soy protein called Vegeburger, mix it up with three eggs, salt, half a package of dry Lipton Onion Soup mix, a third of a cup of vegetable oil, a small amount of sage, mixed it up to eliminate any lumps, then added one third of a cup of Panko bread crumbs, then enough plain bread crumbs to get a mixture that hung together.
She would fry a half-inch thick patty of this in vegetable oil in a frying pan on an induction cooktop first at three hundred degrees to sear the first side for a couple of minutes, then turn it down to two hundred sixty or eighty degrees to finish cooking for five to ten minutes, then repeat the procedure, turning only once. She would carefully watch for a medium brown crunch on both sides because they got too dark quickly and served them on hamburger buns with mayo and mustard and tomatoes and romaine lettuce, sometimes dill pickle slices, and salt.
Those didn't taste like meat. They tasted like vegeburgers. It was like anything else. You either liked them or not. Advantage: the cow lived to moo another day.
The cook would also serve grandma Carol's western potato salad. She took six of the large Yukon gold potatoes, cut them into quarters and tossed them in cold water in a large pot to cover.
She put three eggs in cold water in a smaller pot and added a splash of white vinegar and a dash of salt to the water, brought the water to a boil, turned the heat off with the lid still on and timed exactly fourteen minutes. When the timer rang, she poured the hot water out, added cold water to the pot, and left the eggs to sit in cold water.
After that, she would put the quartered potatoes over a high flame, bring them to a boil, and watch them like a hawk. Just after they turned knife tender and the skin began to peel off the quarters, but before the potatoes became mushy, she took a slotted spoon and removed the quarters to a separate bowl to sit for a few minutes.
Mushy' potatoes ruined the dish. They had to be easily tender to knife poke'. There was about one minute between OK and ruined. She peeled the quarters and cut them into bite-size chunks in a stainless- steel deep bowl,
She then made the sauce in another medium sized bowl. She used the best mayonnaise she could get, one or two cups depending on how thick the sauce needed to be, a generous dollop of yellow mustard, sprinkled the mayo with a fine sea salt to taste, a generous sprinkle of red chili powder, a generous sprinkle of paprika, four dill pickles with ends removed diced into tiny cubes, three stalks of celery diced into very tiny cubes and then peeled and diced the peeled hard-boiled eggs into tiny cubes and the celery, egg, and pickle in a bowl for the refrigerator.
The pickle/egg/celery mixture was refrigerated while making the sauce.
She poured in a quarter of a cup of white vinegar, about the same amount of pickle juice and a few drops of lemon juice to make a sauce that was like the consistency of salad dressing only thicker. All of that sauce plus the egg/celery/pickle mixture was folded in to the hot potato chunks and served warm after adjusting the salt to taste. She never used black pepper or onions since they didn't like it. If the mix was too salty she added more mayo and small amounts of pickle juice and/or vinegar to adjust the texture of the sauce.
The twins had to be restrained from eating this at every meal. They liked it hot and they loved it cold the next day with vegetarian canned beans and oddly enough, cottage cheese.
Eric hated eating dead animals, although he did eat eggs and milk. Loren loved cod and fresh salmon, but not shellfish. He'd read all about tilapia being bottom feeders just like lobster and he knew that the largest lobsters were in residence right at the sewer outlets of some American coastal towns. Nope, not happening with Loren anyway.
The first item of a dinner conversation soon after the repository visit was the announced intention of both twins to attend Grinnell College in Iowa `like you guys'. That solved an issue no one had seemed to get them to focus on.
They told the family that Eric was going to study art and Loren was going to study finance.
When the subject of majors was brought up, Michael and Marcus looked at each other briefly and told the twins that was great news. No questions were asked.
The dads tried to act as if it was no big deal.
They were flabbergasted actually.
Later that evening Michael and Marcus were relaxing in their sitting room, talking about the day, politics, markets and other general topics when Marcus suddenly stood up, then knelt in front of Michael.
"Michael," he said, "we've been friends since that day at Grinnell when you asked me if you could eat at my table. We are still friends and lovers. We are both in love with each other. Er, I..."
Michael's face lit up, suffused with color and surprise.
Marcus plunged on. "I can't see myself spending my life with anyone else but you. I love you and wonder if, maybe, you would consider me for a husband. You know me pretty well. I've got your back. Our kids need two parents who are married. All the states have approved same-sex marriages now and although..."
"Marcus," Michael smiled, "would you just stop."
"I want to marry you, Marcus. I love you too, honey."
Michael buried his face in Marcus' neck and took a deep breath of his partner. They hugged each other, laughed a little, wiped their eyes, tore each other's clothes off, and headed for the bedroom.
An hour or two later after great loving sex and tender words, Michael came back to the moment.
"We might get to be experts at this."
Marcus' eyes, moist, fastened on Michael's and said, "Michael, you seemed pretty good at that the first time we made love. How did you know what to do?"
Michael, a little shy about bringing it up at first, decided to just be up front.
"Marcus, as you know, I had a partner for a couple of years just before college. We kept the occasional sex on the down-low because of his parents. Darren and I had sex like other people work out at the gym, for fun and practice. He didn't love me. I might have loved him, but I wasn't 'in love' with him. They moved away. We were great pals."
"He was an amazing bottom and an OK top. I haven't seen him since then. Last I heard just before we graduated, he was going to grad school at Stanford.
He was really hot physically, a nice guy, and I think you would have enjoyed him too."
Michael continued, "Which raises the question of what would happen if Darren popped up or if anyone else came into our lives that both of us liked...do we want an open relationship with rules like polyamory or do we stick with monogamy?"
Marcus thought for a few moments. "You are my primary partner. I can relate to another person but don't want to give or get permission from you. We both have lots of love and can learn to share. I would have to work not to be jealous though. I could be part of a throuple if we all took turns with each partner and also did sex as a threesome and communicated well."
"What if we see someone we are interested in?" replied Michael, "seems to me like the first thing to talk about if that happens is whether that person will be a part of `us' as a primary unit, say a throuple, or something less formal, perhaps a V relationship."
"I think a V would be tougher for me than a throuple."
Marcus didn't want to think about Michael having private time with a guy with whom he also didn't share private time on occasion. He continued.
"I would rather that we meet a third person together and then have a private discussion between you and me about the chemistry, then the three of us about the structure of any relationship. Sound good?"
Michael nodded his head. "Sure. Can we agree that we won't have sex with others without informing each other and always use condoms in that instance?"
"Yes, absolutely," Marcus replied, "as long as we all play together in the same room at first. Would you ever consider the two of us sharing sex with a third person at the same time within our marriage structure?"
"I think that would be fun once in a while."
Both men's cocks were rock hard and erect then. Marcus reached over to his lover and gently took Michael's cock in his mouth.
He protected it from his teeth with his lips, swallowed it to the root, and sucked it until Michael cried out his name for the second time that day.
There followed a busy few months, a private ceremony at the White House in the Blue room, lots of roses, all of the family there, Rainier at the ready for the `honeymoon' trip to see to family interests in the south of France, then Montpellier, Barcelona, and back to Paris for a couple of weeks to study... making love and recapturing their earlier days there.
The two now-wedded lovers came home to the Museum emotionally closer, even better friends, loving to hug and kiss each other in front of family now, anywhere actually.
Eric and Loren weren't sure how they felt about the marriage thing.
Loren liked girls. Eric thought he might like girls but thought about guy's cocks too. They thought about sex, thought about `doing it', thought about kids (not a positive thought) and once every five minutes thought about kissing someone. Like all teens, they became pros in hiding groin bumps. They understood their dad's marriage was legal, their religion suggested that marriage was a man-woman thing by definition. Their religion came first in their lives and it wasn't until Blossom sat down with them and asked them how they were coping that the discussion happened.
She explained the difference between sexual relationships and other kinds of arrangements between friends of the same or opposite gender.
At one time, our society didn't accept that same-sex couples could marry, but cheerfully accepted the discrimination and unequal treatment of people who were homosexual.
She told them that if a man and woman got married and grew older, the woman would get half of the man's social security or her own, whichever was bigger. For many years, she said, same-sex couples didn't have the upgraded social security benefit just because the two of them were the same gender.
That was one of the types of discrimination that drove most people to accept the same-sex marriage changes. She told them that there were still people who thought same-sex anything was icky. She said that some of the same-sex couples thought that man-woman anything was icky.
The boys grinned.
Blossom explained that societies change their thinking over time and suggested that God knew their dad's hearts and loved them just like Eric and Loren, a lot.
That took care of that. The twins became what some members of their church called the liberal branch of their religion. They loved their church. They believed what their church taught. They also believed that equality, fairness, refraining from judgment, and avoidance of discrimination went along with the package.
Faith, that is, believing in things they couldn't see, was still not a problem however. They believed that God had all things covered in His love and didn't need any help administering His church in heaven or on earth.
A lot of mail awaited Michael and Marcus' desks when they returned from their wedding trip.
One caught Michael's eye.
It was a forwarded envelope from his old Pennsylvania address in Flourtown.
The return address was Palo Alto, California.
Darren Benjamin had written to say hello from Stanford and bring Michael up to date on his progress at graduate school (international finance as it turned out). He mentioned in the letter that he was headed to Rockefeller University in New York City for post-graduate work and hoped he could meet up with Michael in the city in a few days.
When Michael and Marcus finished dinner that night, they headed for the gym and in the sauna, empty but for the two of them, Michael told Marcus about the letter. Marcus perked up and asked if all three of them could play. Michael grinned.
"Let's start with inviting him to dinner at the museum and go from there. Darren's cell number was in the letter."
"I will call and tell him that you know about our history, can't wait to meet him and that we want to entertain him with dinner and whatever pops up! Sound good?"
Marcus was more than happy with that.
The next Thursday a taxi drew up to the front door of the museum, cleared by Security. Michael and Marcus waited there to meet him.
Darren stepped out of the taxi, a fit, well-muscled redhead with blue eyes. He was neatly dressed in a navy suit and a light-yellow tie, dark socks, polished brown brogues, and a huge smile. He hugged both of them.
Michael introduced his husband, Marcus and invited Darren inside. "Looking good, handsome. You're all grown up and out too. Are you hungry for dinner yet? You always used to have a good appetite."
"Sure am," Darren patted his firm, hard abdomen, "it takes food to exercise and grow, right?"
He reached down, adjusted his bulge and they went up to the third-floor small dining room where a butler was just finishing table setup. The housekeeper and maids were busy with finishing touches.
"Find your place card and set your handsome ass down, Darren."
The men were served grilled steak, élotes, grilled Mexican corn on the cob with mayonnaise and sprinkled with grated cotija cheese, were served as one side along with duchess potatoes and campfire biscuits with raspberry-jalapeno jam.
A red wine, an Egon Muller Scharzhofbert Riesling, was presented and served just a tad under room temperature with the meal.
Dessert was a sweet, fragrant double lemon honey frozen custard with a hint of ground vanilla bean sprinkled on top.
They discussed college in Iowa, Darren's grad school experiences, and also the elephant in the room. Marcus said that Michael had told him about the great sex Darren and Michael had just before college. Darren acknowledged how much that had meant to him. Michael told Darren that Marcus and he had wondered if Darren would come over and play with them at the museum while Darren was in the city.
"Have you found a place to live yet, Darren?" asked Marcus.
"No, I'm still in temporary Rockefeller U housing while trying to find a place I can afford."
The men finished their dinner. When Michael offered a tour of the living quarters, Darren was amenable. They went up the grand staircase to the fourth floor, then left toward Michael and Marcus' suite.
They stopped at one of the vacant suites and showed it to Darren who seemed awestruck at the luxury.
"Whose place is this?" he asked. "How did you guys get to live here?"
There was a pause before Michael said that he had had it built for a combined home and museum.
Darren's eyes widened. "I hadn't put the name and the museum's name together. How could I have missed that one?"
They walked down the corridor and entered the master suite.
"Darren, we were hoping you could stay over and play tonight."
"Are you fucking serious? A sleepover like when we were eighteen or the one when we discussed puberty issues and wondered if we should be talking about that?"
"An adult version of a sleepover is what we had in mind, at least...yes... serious." Marcus smiled and wrapped his arm around Darren.
"We talked about it and are excited to, um, well, have you."
"Count me in," said Darren, his heart beginning to race, and his cock suddenly taking a direct interest in the conversation, a hard erection forming.
A few minutes later, clothes were everywhere but on and three handsome very naked men lay on white satin sheets.
"This is our first threesome here," said Michael.
"I'm honored."
"Darren, just remember that Marcus and I had our first sexual experience at college. Marcus was a virgin then. You and I have fucked a lot but not recently and we know each other's body pretty well. Why don't you and I concentrate on him first and bring him up to speed on what we used to like? Then at some point I need to fuck your ass and watch Marcus do the job even better with you pre-lubed with my cum."
"That OK with you Marcus?"
"I hope I can last through this, Michael. I'm so excited I could cum if the wind blew in the right direction."
Darren and Michael arranged themselves with Marcus in the middle. Darren leaned over and kissed Marcus, his tongue gently probing. Michael began to baste Marcus' nipples with his tongue.
Marcus closed his eyes, moaned and grasped Darren and Michael's cocks and began to explore their warm balls. Darren's hands caressed the skin of Marcus' soft abdomen, felt the hard abs, and drifted down to his thick cock, now erect and rock hard.
Michael watched Darren kissing Marcus and felt heat spreading in his cock, now swelling like crazy and tingling in his scrotum. Darren looked back after a few minutes, leaned over, kissed him and began a tongue battle with Michael. They resumed their attention to Marcus, licking his shoulders and underarms where a faint odor of sweat lingered.
Darren was the first to go down on Marcus.
Michael inserted a lubed finger into Marcus' hole and fingered him while leaning over to suck Darren's cock.
"Yeah, fucker, right there," whimpered Darren. "Suck my cock, Michael."
Marcus began to moan quietly. He watched Michael put his cock into Darren's ass and begin an awesome slow fuck rhythm. Before long, Michael's body stiffened, jerked and he and Darren cried out together, lost in memories.
Darren reached over to hold Marcus' cock. "Hey, Michael's husband, would you do the honors? I'm all lubed up with Michael's cum. Do me, stud."
Marcus, now hard as nails, grinned at Darren. "Hands and knees, Darren. You're my bitch now."
After they joined, it was hard to tell who did who. Darren's ability to move his body nearly matched Marcus's fucking skills. Michael alternately watched and kissed both men.
Afterward Michael did the cleanup while Marcus and Darren kissed and held each other. Marcus told Darren that Michael had excellent taste in men.
"I second the motion," Darren's tongue removed itself from Marcus' mouth long enough to speak.
"All in favor say aye," said Michael, laughing.
A faint scent of bleach mixed with sweat and natural male musk filled the air over the bed.
The men lay idly admiring each other's bodies and touching each other from time to time. Darren drifted off for a few minutes, exhausted. Michael and Marcus searched out each other's eyes and face for clues as to what they might be thinking. Michael raised his eyebrows in a question that Marcus understood, a non-verbal communication. Marcus nodded his head. Darren awoke a few minutes later to feel mouths sucking on both his nipples.
"We got your letter last week, Darren," continued Michael, "and I told Marcus about our previous fun before college and we wondered if you had a partner now and if you still liked to play with other men. Today kind of answers that last part. Is there someone else in your life?"
"We kind of prepared to ask you something if the chemistry was right tonight."
Marcus told Darren that he enjoyed meeting him and thought Darren might like a closer relationship with both of them.
"Besides, you have a world-class butt that our gym can help keep in its present world-class state!"
Darren squealed as Marcus pinched the said item gently. "Hey, that's my world-class ass you're pinching...watch it! No, I don't have a boyfriend now, however you two could qualify after this exam today!"
"Here's our proposition if we passed your quiz," Michael teased.
"Darren," continued Michael, "a suite down the hall has your name on it. You are welcome to live here with us while you go to grad school here. We can fly you out to California in our jet if and when you need to visit there."
"We travel from time to time and you would be welcome to come with us on vacations. Your school time must be the deciding factor for where you live, no?"
"Actually, my budget is the limiting factor. How high is the rent here?"
Michael told him they had other guests and employees and family-- none paid rent.
"We don't operate to break even or even make money. All costs are paid by the Schuyler trust and entry fees and gift shop sales."
Darren gasped.
He was caught between an urge to cry and to laugh at the same time, then tears came which he brushed away with his forearm.
Rent, a major item in his student budget had threatened his education plans.
New York City's affordable housing for students was limited outside of dormitories.
His heart felt like it might break before his mind stretched around this generosity.
Michael sobered. "Don't cry, man. No rent, although Marcus and I would be thrilled to continue fucking you senseless from time to time as you might desire and vice-versa. No rent--just perks for you and us, not the least having an intelligent good-looking stud around the house, but the sex isn't required for the job or the suite."
"I think I've loved you, Darren, and I've missed you. I also love Marcus dearly as my primary partner and he might soon love you as I do. Both of us have lots of love to go share and we've discussed polyamory before we married and came up with some guidelines for us, anyway."
Marcus chimed in, "If I'm not mistaken, we would like to have a throuple with you, Darren, a triad of lovers in an open relationship, all of us free to show our love privately in this house. I don't think we are looking for a fourth right now but are open to talking about it in the future."
"Right now, we're not eager to advertise our private sex life with our kids or moms or my brother."
"If you test negative for HIV, we will throw the condoms out when we play within our triad. No outside partners unless we discuss it first, and if OK with all three of us; the condoms get used until we're all tested safe."
"If outside partners happen for any reason, we tell each other that same day."
"We don't invite others to our throuple before discussing it among ourselves. We deal with jealousy by discussing it, being open and frank with each other and trying to understand our partner's points of view. Sounds like a lot...it's mostly common sense and doing like we would wish the others to do with and for us, being sexually responsible, and acting as an emotional rock for all in our group."
"I'm the alpha in this throuple, the top dog sexually, Marcus went on, "and Michael likes that. He's the boss of the house. I'm the boss of his ass."
"If you decide to complete our throuple, then I'm your top dog sexually. That's how that will roll. I own your ass, in general, but you will make your own decisions where and how often and with whom. We all share the love equally. You don't have to call me sir. You do have to give me your ass when I want it. Anytime I want it."
"I will allow you and Michael to hash out your own relationship in our throuple."
Michael likes rough play once in a while and I like dishing it out. We don't hurt each other or even consider it. Other than that, we don't do kink, no scat, no water-sports, no chains or crosses, no slings, no whips, no leather other than belts. How do you spell 'vanilla'?"
"Some spanking can be fun, but only if the receiver wants it. Drugs and tobacco are out in this throuple."
Michael chimed in, "Yep, Marcus can be a fucking animal at times. It's a high for me. You can sample that talent sometime, Darren, if you want to. At the same time, Marcus has an endearing tender sweet side that will melt your ass.
As a group, we should talk over a general sex-time schedule, but I have to tell you, Marcus sleeps with me every night in my suite, just the two of us."
"He's my husband, my primary guy, so for this to work well, you have to buy into that and not push that boundary. Perhaps one day, we will all decide to sleep together, but we won't count on that. On the other hand, I will want some private time either during the day or after supper in your room with you, Darren, and I hope you want that with us, sometimes together, sometimes one on one."
"You and I, Darren," Michael went on, "have some sexual and other personal catching up to do and I have a feeling Marcus is going to want to have some private time with you. As our alpha, he will tell you about that. You will tell him what you need and how often you need it. A throuple isn't a good model for a committee to decide things since it sets the stage for one person to feel at times like the other two are ganging up on him or ignoring him. To avoid that no-win, we need to accept Marcus as the boss of our throuple for this to work. He will decide the things we can't all agree on easily. He has a good heart, balls of fire, and a couple of great heads."
"We've got a lot of love to share out of our beds and showers too. We don't cook or do chores here, but the park is good for running and fresh air and we can travel anywhere in the world if we have the time."
"If you insist on being useful or something," added Michael, "you can take over the job of museum administrator while you are taking classes in your spare time... or not. The salary is six figures with all the benefits you can think of."
"We can give you a contract to look at," Michael went on, "which will match your financial background. The Schuyler trust also has openings in management from time to time. I'm not worried about sleeping with an employee that I was sleeping with previous to employment, by the way."
Darren's mouth fell open, "We studied the Schuyler trust as a model at Stanford. I never tied it to you." His voice fell off. "Are you for real or just kidding me?"
"When can you move in?"
Darren and his few belongings moved into the suite he had been shown the next day and he began to explore the museum and its workings in his spare time.
The twins liked Darren from the start, unaware of his deeper involvement with their dads. Carol and Blossom were their usual grace-filled selves and welcomed Darren to the museum.
The staff soon learned about the racier details and figured it was none of their business to discuss further.
Eric and Loren began to ask at some point about Grinnell and how to succeed there and how to act and how things worked. Marcus and I tried to give them hints but told them they would do just fine on their own. They knew that hard work could get them to their goals, but they didn't always feel it.
We had to discuss the possibility that either or both could meet girls there and strongly suggested that any girl they dated must be respected, treated with dignity and also vetted some, simply because the guys were beginning to represent a family with billions of green paper reasons to `love' them.
We talked about falling in love with someone who didn't know you were wealthy versus the risk of falling in love with someone who knew full well what her partner was worth. I think they understood that concept clearly.
If they didn't, it wasn't for lack of trying by their fathers. And grandmothers. And aunt and uncles.
Eric and Loren were given an allowance for college. The trust paid for their entire tuition, fees, books, clothes, and all of their expenses. In addition, they were given five hundred dollars a month for incidentals, and the full use of Rainier as needed. Turns out they saved most of it. No beer, no condoms, no topless bars...these hermits were preparing for a future.
We knew the jet raised their profile but didn't want them to feel the pressure of study along with the extra transportation hassles. They had a security team nearby but not on their tail. College security was fully briefed on their net worth and if I'm not mistaken, they kept a close eye out for them as well as the other kids on campus. The jet flew in and out of GGI, the airport at Grinnell, to leave them and pick them up as needed. They took friends on the jet a few times to far-flung places for hiking trips as it happened. No hangar was maintained by the trust there.
Rainier got a twin sister that year. A new Gulfstream 650ER.
I told the trust to get Marcus a new one, configured with all the latest of everything and called it "Sweet Pea." It was for Marcus' use primarily but was available to all the family as part of the fleet.
Marcus flew more now for the Blossom Fund and Rainier was overworked. Two jets made the scheduling secretary's work easier and rarely were both jets down at the same time. Maintenance was scheduled at different times.
Antoine had complained about premature aging with so many flights and the new jet delighted him.
The pilots who had flown Rainier were given first choice of which jet to fly along with the cabin crew. New pilots and crew were hired who filled in gaps in the crew schedules, most of them flying the older jet, Rainier.
Darren fell into a routine of school and work. He made love with Michael and Marcus together once a week on average, loving all three together physically, enjoying the intimacy and the workout.
Michael and Darren made love at least twice a week in Darren's suite. This gave them both the chance to cement their love on different levels and discuss life in general.
The hardest part for Marcus was in the morning when Darren sometimes slipped into their suite and joined Michael in the shower. Marcus struggled not to think of Michael's lips and hands on Darren whispering that he, Michael, loved Darren and equally difficult, Michael slipping his great cock up into Darren's cute ass without Marcus being there to enjoy their reactions and join in. The thought made him feel lonely, a little afraid and sometimes irritable and angry.
It took a lot of self-coaching for him to accept that Michael had enough love for both of them, that it wasn't just about sex, but giving and receiving love and all of them growing into that relationship.
Marcus, when he worked on it, could imagine that Darren probably struggled a little with him, his primary relationship to Michael as his husband with a history of close college and business connections, not to mention their mothers' friendship.
Part of getting over jealousy, for Marcus, seemed to be his time with Darren getting to know his mind and his body, his feelings about Michael, and Darren's desire to please his alpha by giving himself without reserve for Marcus to use.
Marcus told himself that the sex was white-hot whether watching or driving or getting driven. All of them together and individually turned him on so much that he was a little surprised he didn't come thinking about the subject. He loved not worrying about his husband cheating, but come to think of it, he hadn't worried before Darren either. But a benefit was a benefit, no doubt about it.
Marcus took Darren's ass in Darren's room a couple of evenings a week... sometimes knocking to have a naked Michael answer the door, sometimes interrupting a fuck. He was always welcomed in Darren's suite and always assumed his alpha role immediately. Usually, in that case, Marcus would coach them through a wild fuck, directing them as he might a pair of actors, demonstrating what he meant as he went.
Like a Pavlov response, Marcus began to get hard just standing in front of Darren's suite after a few weeks. After a month or two of that, Marcus began to respect his partner's time together and consulted the schedule. He began to sense that his alpha role was a barrier to some of the benefits of polyamory and shared decision making, as tough as it sometimes was.
Both Marcus and Michael felt their primary relationship was closer because of Darren, giving them more to compare and contrast experiences in conversation and more examples of lovemaking to copy, more memories to share.
Marcus discovered that Darren enjoyed pointing his ass to the ceiling while lying on his back so that Marcus could stand on the bed over and at Darren's ass, fucking him cock almost straight down, a thrilling way to get one's prostate rubbed providing Marcus was facing Darren's head. Marcus didn't seem to mind that position either. The first time Michael saw that, he insisted that Marcus try it with him... with spectacular results.
Another of Michael's favorites learned from Marcus's sex with Darren was a position where Darren on his hands and knees took it from Marcus who instead of kneeling behind, got up and supported himself over Darren in a V shape with his hands on the bed by Darren's shoulders and his feet only on the bed, touching Darren at no other point, his cock and balls right on top of Darren's ass where he could fuck almost straight down with the entire body pushing his cock inside Darren.
It was an exciting athletic fuck where Darren's prostate was rubbed hard on every quick rabbit-thrust.
Michael appeared to be the least affected by the triangle. Just thinking about his two best buddies going at it was enough to make his dick happy for a while. It was as if he had been alone so long that he was making up for lost time. But in another way, he didn't spend time worrying about Marcus and Darren together. He liked the sex with both and hoped that when they were together that both were getting what they needed. Damn, he loved those guys. He loved Darren. He was 'in love' with Marcus.
In December, the men discussed their vacation plans for spring break. Michael was now the full beneficiary of the Schuyler trust at age twenty-five with access to cash he couldn't possible diminish. Michael began to dream of a long trip for the throuple, perhaps around the world, perhaps including some others along the way.
Michael decided, after thinking the Gulfstream's bed was on the small side for three people, to ask the scheduling secretary to call Boeing to request a sale or lease of a new Boeing business jet 787-8. He was aware that airlines waited for months, sometimes years for the planes they ordered. Boeing flew a rep from Seattle overnight to meet Michael the next day.
The salesman said either method was workable except that they usually sold the jet green so that any interior decorating firm would take some time unless the Schuyler trust could find a firm that could handle a rush order.
Michael picked up the phone, spoke to the trust office, gave them the salesman's cell number and address and asked that one half the price be wired to Boeing immediately.
He asked them to find or create a company to finish the interior before spring break saying he wanted a progress report by telephone that same afternoon.
The telephone rang that afternoon a couple of hours later with the report. The trust had found a company in Wichita that could do the plane in two and a half months.
The startup company had done this work before for a foreign government but not that fast.
The fee was discussed. Michel told the trust to authorize the work by wire and wired half the requested fee to Wichita as a good faith gesture. He spoke with the legal department.
"I want a simple contract quickly. Have the Wichita design people up here tomorrow with an initial proposal including large chef's galley, pantry, large freezer, large microwaves, large refrigerated storage, closets, dressers, multiple bathrooms and bedrooms to include a king size master bed and 4 person shower with rain-maker shower head and wooden benches, a sauna, first-class `go-flat' seating areas, a dining room, first class entertainment systems, satellite broadband internet systems, a small gym, showers and more."
"For the money we will be paying, have them work out a rough draft proposal before we meet at noon tomorrow here in New York. Send Rainier down early in the morning to pick them up and tell them they can finish the initial proposal on the plane. We'll house them here at the museum. Tell their controller we'll wire the second half of their fee on our approval at delivery."
"Have our legal team here with the contract tomorrow. Please tell the Boeing sales rep we need that plane now and will wire a few million more plus the second half of the total to get first dibs on rapid delivery of a green 787-8 out their door."
"Call all the airlines that fly that plane and talk to their design person. Ask them who their consultant was for the work. If a name pops up more than once, call the company or person whose name pops up favorably the most often and make them an offer they can't refuse to monitor the work in Wichita or participate, either way."
Michael told the trust that speed was of the essence and he wanted a team assigned on the project immediately to check on details and speed the project along, not slow it down with bureaucratic details.
Michael's telephone call to the trust was recorded at both ends as usual; the resulting document had tasks listed by type (call, wire), urgency (now, tomorrow, etc.) owner of the task (Michael, Marcus, trust legal, trust controller, banking, et cetera), date task due, and date task accomplished. The resulting work flow was analyzed by the computer to establish end project dates and overall progress by individual tasks.
The Wichita team arrived, excited, with an initial proposal exceeding what Michael had asked.
The team had added extra kitchen equipment since they had guessed that food preparation would be important to this customer, suggested fabrics and colors and general ambience and sound-proofing, Bose noise-cancelling headphones, first-aid supply kit, a small emergency surgery with sterilizer and packs, enhanced crew quarters for an additional pilot set and additional crew space which was actually roomy and comfortable with a shower and crew bathroom. Michael concluded the team had done their homework.
Their proposal made extensive use of the baggage compartment below where the freezers, refrigerators and a large pantry were located. Much of the china and linen storage was below.
Only a little overhead space was used for storage of various kinds and the entertainment system. The heart of the internet system, much of the navigational and computer linkups were overhead.
Two of the smaller bedrooms were below with their bathrooms. Oversized hot water tanks were ordered, the water tanks were ordered designed to deliver fresh, sanitized filtered water.
The at-seat displays were tied into external jet cameras as well as the drill-down navigational displays.
The heating and air conditioning systems were beefed up for visits to northern latitudes and for those occasional desert climates.
Michael said he wanted a masculine ambiance. The legal team faxed the contract back to Boeing, a copy to Wichita for their electronic signature and the jet flew the designers back to Kansas to work.
Michael took possession of the new plane the day prior to spring break.
Michael named the new 787-8 'Trois Mousquetaires', Three Musketeers.
Those two days were a little hectic, but the process of initial provisioning had been planned to the last candy bar and head of lettuce by the Schuyler catering and travel teams with the museum housekeeper heading a maid and footman team at the Schuyler Hanger at Teterboro.
On the afternoon Trois Mousquetaires arrived and the `keys' were transferred, the pilots and crew, hired from airlines with fabulous wages and benefits and better schedules and pensions, along with maids and footman from the museum and porters at the airport, paid to help, transferred mountains of materials, supplies and food to the new plane. Fresh teams worked into the night and work began again the second day.
By the end of the second day, the day prior to departure, all was ready, the jet fueled, its systems doubly checked by factory reps from Seattle and Wichita, frozen meals from another airline in the freezer, tanks filled, beds made, security posted, and the butler and housekeeper made final inspections with eagle eyes.
The next day Michael, Marcus and Darren boarded. The porters stowed their luggage below and brought up their clothes to the closets and dressers.
At 10 a.m. the jet was pushed back, the two huge GENx propulsion systems were spooled up and a perfect take-off accomplished from Teterboro Executive airport. A flight plan for Mykonos had been filed.
The pilots received air clearance for their lane over the Atlantic through the jet's computer and went to autopilot. Both pilot crews were awake the first hour, crew A remained at their posts in the cockpit while the crew B watched and toured the aircraft below and above. The crew B finally went to their quarters and rested for their upcoming shift.
The new flight chef had worked for the Royal family of Morocco in their private jet, had trained at Cordon Bleu in Paris and had experience in the kitchen at Maxims de Paris. The chef and his staff began to prep and cook the next few meals. The dining area was prepared with linen, crystal, china, sterling silver, and fresh flowers.
Michael, Marcus and Darren decided to christen the bed in back first before lunch and disappeared after a short conference with the head flight steward and chef.
It didn't take a long time to shed their casual attire behind closed doors, try out the rain-maker shower, play grab-ass, and dry each other. The love-making that followed was just that, slow and sensual, not just fucking to get themselves off.
They had genuine feeling for each other during gentle sex that was nearly unbearably full of pleasure. They played on top the bottom sheet, having carefully folded back the top sheet, duvet and duvet cover. Using large bath towels on the bottom sheet, they decided, might decrease the mess on the sheets.
As it turned out, there was a washer and dryer below for urgent use and for other soiled linens. Other large hampers were available so that laundry could be done by a contracted crew on the ground during the trip. Arrangements for all of the routine housecleaning and laundry had been made with companies working at each expected location.
The flight landed in Mykonos about ten hours later at eight p.m. and they promptly went to sleep on the plane. The next day, they chartered a boat to Super Paradise Beach, about 6 miles southeast of the town of Mykonos. There were a lot of fellow LGBT swimmers. They saw sparkling turquoise water near the beach, the color deepening further out into a royal blue.
There was an enormous amount, a surfeit really, of eye candy and with sunglasses on, and in skimpy beach wear, they sat under their awning, then swam, then strolled after applying suntan lotion on each other at intervals.
Marcus mentioned that they could invite a fourth temporary Musketeer back to the plane. They all got hot with that discussion, passing the possibilities back and forth. Do we want English, American, German, Greek, Moroccan? Do we want a cute bottom or a big-cocked top? A couple? Just one? They agreed on two criteria only: male and built.
Just when they couldn't reach a decision, a couple speaking British English, thirty-somethings, passed by their awning. Their speedo-wrapped packages looked like they had bulls in their pedigree. Tanned and fit, they had brown hair, crew cut length, and muscular chests, sweet pecs nicely defined and decent looks.
"Hey, guys," said Michael, "do you have plans for tonight yet?"
"No, dude, we haven't made any plans. We just arrived this morning from Liverpool," was the reply."
"Interested in hooking up tonight at our plane at the Mykonos airport?" We just got in from New Jersey last night late. We've got really good food and drink and a separate bedroom after we play. Hot showers in more ways than one plus entertainment. Save you the cost of an expensive Mykonos room and high-priced drinks at the bars."
"You had me at good food and drink," laughed Henry. "Greg, are you in?"
"Bloody right," Greg answered. "A hot shower sounds fun."
The charter boat approached inshore when summoned by cell phone and the five men with their gear boarded and made the short journey back to Mykonos. When they arrived at the airport, Henry and Greg put on their colorful cotton hats and shirts over their swim gear and they all boarded Trois Mousquetaires. Henry and Greg were too polite to gush, but they appeared to like the surroundings.
They all piled naked into the master shower, crowded in for fun, soaped off and fell to mutual exploration. A good deal of genetic material spilled into the shower as Marcus fucked Darren and Michael back and forth then all suited up to include Greg and Henry in the festivities, starting what turned out to be a group event which nearly depleted their supply of condoms.
Supper was a Moroccan delight. Couscous, lamb tagine, apricots, mixed olives with harissa, warm chickpea salad and tea biscuits with wine: a Bernard Magrez Kahina from a Grenache Syrah blend.
After waffles, baked beans, mushrooms, toast, baked tomatoes, coffee and juice the next morning, Henry and Greg exchanged cell numbers, email addresses and postal addresses with the Musketeers and asked them to stay with them in Liverpool any time they could. After thanking them for their hospitality, Henry and Greg were off to explore.
"Michael, I've never been to Thailand, say Bangkok or Phuket. Any chance we could visit?"
"Great idea, Darren."
"Are we set for travel to Thailand?" Michael was on the phone to the pilot.
"Sure. The runway in Bangkok can take us. The chief pilot consulted an iPad and continued, "Phuket's runway is too short for a 787-8."
"When do you want to leave?"
Michael told him within the hour if possible but that the time frame constraint wasn't critical.
"We'll get all the crew together and make sure the provisioning is complete. I know we are already fueled. I can commit to safe departure in 45 minutes. Will that work? If not, I can put a rush on it and just leave." replied the pilot.
"In these smaller airports, the largest plane gets to leave when it wishes if and when the arriving tower gives its OK, especially if a gift passes hands and usually without the gift since the landing fee has a percentage for the tower crew.
Up front, Michael could hear an increased bustle in the galley as the crew worked to prepare for takeoff. He knew they weren't concerned about food supplies yet or water either for that matter. He sat back and gazed at the energy being spent for his own pleasure. He thought about Marcus and Darren. Their sexual energy could power a small generator.
Michael wasn't afraid of running out of love or money or even time. He did give thought to the effect of their relationship on the twins...would there be less time for Eric and Loren?
The jet's doors closed, and the pilot's voice came on with the usual take-off instructions and flight information including flight time of about nine hours or so depending on head winds and the landing slot assigned in Bangkok. The pilot had already texted the Schuyler trust office in Pennsylvania and asked them to arrange for reservations at the Mandarin Oriental for five nights for passengers and crew that night with late arrival guaranteed and limousine service at the airport.
The flight was comfortable. The Musketeers, again naked, napped, spooned close, cocks just semi-hard from rubbing against each other's skin with the jet's movements.
They were awakened for lunch by the flight crew. The large fruit salad with blueberry and cranberry muffins baked from scratch with whipped cream on the side for later 'use', the chef thoroughly understanding that request since boys would be boys) and a chef-shocking chilled Fresca float with good vanilla ice cream (the chef mentally dissenting, thinking he might be a bit closer to understanding a movie he once viewed, only once, having something to do with mutiny and Pitcairn Island).
On they flew. During the flight Darren tried something new. He asked Michael to lay on his stomach at the very end of the bed and put his legs way out, hugging a pillow. He asked Marcus to lay on Michael's back and put his legs up on top of Michael's. Now Marcus and Michael's asses winked at Darren close together one atop the other. All that was left for Darren was to top one, then the other partner, going up and down to switch entry points.
It didn't last long because the husbands were unused to the positions, but it was as hot as fire. After another shower, everyone enjoyed watching a few music videos, dancing in speedos in their bedroom. They tried triad make-out (a little frustrating), enjoyed some wine, talked about the kids, and caught Darren up on Schuyler trust affairs. After Darren gave them both a blow job taking both cocks in his mouth at once while Marcus and Michael kissed, they planned a tour of Bangkok hoping to see the current two pieces on loan from the Schuyler collection in New York to a Bangkok museum, a small but important Monet and a Winslow Homer piece rarely viewed or discussed. Both pieces were out of contract now so if the trust decided to recall and sell them, it could sell at any price to an interested buyer since the right of first refusal had expired.
Darren had not heard about that concept yet and was fascinated. It works for all concerned, really, he thought except for the other dealers who wondered where all the good pieces were and why they got swept up before they had much of a chance to acquire them.
Dinner was served prior to landing in Bangkok. Fresh salmon grilled filets, wild caught in Alaska ocean waters with a mango-tiny wild strawberry compote on the side and roasted Greek lamb choices were offered. Whole steamed baby beets with greens and a citrus lemon aioli minus the garlic and steamed fresh baby zucchini with batter dipped squash flowers lightly deep fried completed the vegetable options.
Dessert was a small individual 'better-than-sex' cake and after- dinner mints. They enjoyed Dr. Pepper flavored ice cream with crushed macadamia nuts and a cherry on top for their second dessert. The chef by this time just handled these American requests with an internal Gallic shrug, sometimes an external one.
After supper they spent a little time in the gym, hit the shower and had some high-quality make-out time just before landing.
Marcus wanted to try landing with his cock in Darren's ass. He reported the landing as very satisfying as did Darren who responded right after touchdown with a touchdown of his own, caught with a hand towel. Michael sat by kissing Darren, and then Marcus, laughing his head off.
They took the hotel limousine to a Mandarin Oriental penthouse suite, showered again, dried each other off, fell into bed and slept a dreamless night.
Marcus didn't want to try anything for breakfast other than pancakes or waffles or cornflakes. He didn't think he could face noodles for breakfast. Urged on, he finally agreed to a Thai street breakfast and found that noodles and rice with a touch of fish sauce wasn't all that bad when a guy was hungry enough. He liked the papayas but couldn't bring himself to bite into the durian fruit.
They found the Schuyler-loaned art in the museum, noted that it seemed secure, walked around the markets to buy gifts for the twins and Carol and Blossom, bought raunchy cards for Henry and Greg, then decided to take the train to Phuket. They got as far as Phun Phin on the line to Singapore, then had to transfer to bus, another five hours to Phuket. On arrival they checked into a fantastic hotel and at nightfall explored the yep, nightlife.
They had been warned that a high percentage of the male call boys had HIV and other sexual infectious diseases, so they just looked and didn't touch. They enjoyed the local boat trips in the lush blue waters and tall rock cliffs covered with jungle-like vegetation.
Back in Bangkok after a couple of lazy days in Phuket, they knocked on the chief pilot's door; the chief pilot had just gotten out of the shower and came to the door with his towel on and bulging outward. His package tented the towel out a lot.
The Musketeers heard a deep male voice from the bed beyond saying, "Who is at the door, honey?"
Michael lifted an eyebrow and grinned at the chief pilot whose name was Andrew. "You think we came at a bad time?"
Andrew paused, smiled back and dropped his towel. The Musketeers eyes traveled down to his crotch to see bright red hair surrounding a seven-inch-thick cock with enormous balls. He waved it a little at them and invited them in.
"Hey, John," Andrew said, "better cover up. We have company calling. Who knows, maybe some playmates have come to the driving range."
The head steward, a man of thirty something, average height, a Scot, with slight temporal balding and the cute ass of a twenty-year old shucked the hotel sheets. "I sure hope so. Although you are enough for me, playing with others is real stimulating at times," John said.
Michael looked at Marcus and Darren; they all nodded and smiled. All the clothes flew off helter-skelter and the solid bed held them all and at one time or other everybody's cock was in every other mouth and later in everyone's ass.
Darren and Andrew loved bottoming. Marcus and John were usually in the driver's seat and Michael was fully versatile.
"We want to thank you for our inaugural flights on Trois Mousqetaires," announced Michael. "I can tell you your paychecks will be magnificent and if this little perk today helps, all the better, although we won't be regulars or bother you during work hours. If we play now, we had better have you sign a memorandum of understanding later that any sex is consensual, has nothing to do with your work and is a free-will exercise of pleasure between adults."
Andrew and John nodded. They knew the game of covering one's ass...and uncovering it for fun once in a while.
After the sex party was over, they all dressed and went out to dinner. The next morning Michael sat down with the John to review arrangements for their ongoing trip.
"John," Michael asked, "Can we be ready to fly to Tokyo Haneda tomorrow around ten a.m.? We'll stay for three nights if can you reserve the Hibuya suite at the Peninsula Hotel through the Schuyler travel department."
"Please have the hotel accommodate the pilots and crew as well and ask them to send a limousine at Haneda to be on hand when we arrive. Either you or the travel department can coordinate the timing."
"We'll check out after the third night and fly to the Napa airport in California. See if we can get a week at The Ranch Above St. Helena...the best suite they have and of course accommodations for all the pilots and crew as well. The airport has one runway about 6,000 feet long and might still take us in spite of the current struggles over allowing large aircraft."
"I suppose we should determine the airport status for sure before getting the hotel reservations...can you run that past the travel people at Schuyler?"
"If Napa disappoints, then we'll land and perhaps rent a Sikorsky at San Francisco International although the traffic and even the BART system leaves me cold. But they have better facilities for jets this size than Napa, of course. Ask Darren where to stay in San Francisco since he knows Stanford and the Bay Area, we'll let him choose, but only the best and easiest to reach please."
"By now you know that cost is not a factor when we travel. I think a week in either Napa or Frisco will do and if we get bored, we may leave sooner for Santa Fe for a few days then back home to Teterboro. Let me know what you and travel come up with."
Marcus came down with what felt and sounded like stomach flu in Napa, felt a little better at the end of the week and by the time they reached Santa Fe, he was back to his energetic, happy self.
In Santa Fe, Darren, Marcus and Michael stayed at the Inn of the Five Graces in an extra-large kind-size bed in an ancient adobe cluster.
Darren woke the second morning crying. Michael and Marcus immediately sandwiched him between their naked bodies and held him tight.
"I had a dream." he sobbed.
"I woke up alone and nobody was there. As much as I love both of you and for as much sexual loving as we've had, I don't have a man of my own, kids of my own, and don't know if I will. I would rather pull my fingernails out with pliers minus anesthesia than come between you two. I'm afraid that what we have now won't last..."
Michael thought a moment and let a long moment of powerful silence begin to heal Darren's pain.
"In some ways, Darren, Marcus and I have been acting like your parents, no, listen Darren...we have advised you, provided support, comforted you, all things that parents do for their kids. That, in an adult world, is a two-edged sword. In doing all those things, done because we love you, you know...we meant to show you how much we loved you."
"Sometimes showing that love causes anxiety to the child who is looking forward to the adult pleasures of making their own decisions, of having autonomy finally, and forging their own pathways in life."
"That may be the other sharp edge of the sword. It can cut both ways. You are not a child, but an adult whose inner child is calling out right now. Your normal cues are missing on this trip without work or study, your normal anchors.
Constant fun can be stressful, huh?"
"Sometimes parents show their love best by spending time with their kids, sometimes by letting them make their own decisions...all things you get to choose, not us. It is also important for all of us to recognize that because Marcus and I have such a strong, loving bond...the bond we pledged until death, we feel comfortable sharing that love with you. There's not a chance in hell that you could come between us...you can share our love, individually and together, but you can't split what can't be separated."
"You can feel strong in that idea. Our sex together is love expressed as adult play. By the nature of men loving men, we won't be breeding children. At the same time, your future is unlimited, and you have every reason to hope and want your own guy. We'll commit to facilitating that process whenever you say the word but can't choose him for you. You will be the first one to know when you meet him."
"In the meantime, we love you dearly and will not leave you stranded. We both will continue to fuck your butt when you want, spank it if needed, stuff your mouth with our cocks, spend time with you, let you cum on us and in us, support you, fondle your balls, tell you how much you mean to us and how much we love you. You are family. You are sexy and hot. You rock. You're not alone. We do and don't look forward to your finding your own guy... the classic parental tension, I guess."
Darren had begun to laugh before Michael was through and his teary smile got him kissed a lot that morning. They arrived home in New York refreshed and happy.