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David's Contribution: New Friends-Chapter 1
Eric made a list of the various ways he might change his life and not hurt Seamus, Tom, or Paddy.
The problem solved itself in the end. Tom and Seamus' cousin invited them to Boston to meet the rest of their family. Their Boston Irish genes kicked in and family won. Submitting their resignations was a big decision; they told Eric it was hard emotionally and economically, and they would miss him very much. They had missed out on a lot of years with each other and their family and that, in the end, helped them come to their decision.
Paddy didn't want to go to Boston. He liked his job, and could travel to Boston for a 'Tom fix' if he and Tom wanted that when the time came. Eric asked the Schuyler Bank in Boston to find a wealthy family in town or on the Cape to take on his footmen if they decided to work.
So easy, so hard.
Eric and Seamus slept their last night together after a night of goodbye sex and a good bit of wakeup fucking as well, making use of their morning wood and renewed energy. Eric asked Seamus to visit when he could, told Seamus he would have a place in his heart for a long time to come, and wished him a good trip.
He hugged Tom and asked him to visit when he could. Eric felt vulnerable once again at the loss softened only by the knowledge that he had foreseen some of it and that he hadn't needed to confront anyone.
He and Paddy stood at the door and waved goodbye.
"I'll just check, your honor, to see that your suite is ready for tonight and your clothes are ready for tomorrow."
It was Paddy's attempt to restore 'normal' in his life, heartbroken at losing Tom.
It was baseball player's day for lunch. Randy and Eric met at a Coney Island Beach. Randy and Eric had sunglasses on for comfort and anonymity.
They wandered over to a hot dog stand, ordered, and inhaled the best of the best. They didn't get ice cream until later.
"I didn't get to hear about you yet, Eric. What floats your boat every day?"
"I manage a large fortune that I inherited from my late parents-in-law and late husband. We specialize... "
"You're gay?"
"Since I was a kid probably."
Randy replied, "I knew I was different in elementary school. Nobody asked me to be on their team. I never wanted a girlfriend until at some point I thought I should have one so people would think I..."
"I know," said Eric, "I've lived that same story. How do you..."
"I don't hit on my teammates. They know I don't date women and don't care. As long as I leave sex out of our discussions, they treat me like anyone else. It's nice. Sometimes I miss talking to somebody about the issues that we all have as gay people, but I can't be more than a finger's worth out of the closet yet. Not in the majors."
"I just want a friend to talk to that would have my back, come to my games, laugh at my jokes, care what happens to me and hug me once or twice when I need it."
"I thought I could find a guy that isn't needy, isn't doddering, dysfunctional, addicted, or sick somehow, but haven't managed to play baseball and do that too."
"You seem like a nice guy," said Randy. "What kind of friends are swarming around you these days?"
Eric thought about it. "Not a swarm in sight. I've kept myself in a box for a long time, forming relationships inside that box, excluding the rest of the world for security reasons since I'm rich, and other reasons I don't understand yet, but I'm working to change what I know about myself. I guess I'm swarming now since my queen is dead, making other friends in the process."
"I want to reach out and find a friend who has my back, who cares about what happens to me, who doesn't want to do business with me, who can take a vacay with me once in a while, who doesn't mind playing 'boyfriend' when we're far away from home, and perhaps an occasional hookup, a bottom guy, gentle sometimes, rough sometimes, a take-charge guy sometimes."
"I'm not allergic to sex and have normal male hormones floating around. I've got a happy cock and ass and God knows they love to play."
"I grew up in Portland, Oregon." Randy chuckled, backing off the explicit talk on the beach at Coney Island.
"I might have known. Did you ever go to Rooster Rock State Park?"
"Rooster Rock rocks some days. It's a mix. Some days old men, some days a rare sighting of younger cock that makes you want to be friendly. There are play places there that can be a lot of fun. The clientele can be really nice and function as a team."
"I saw one older guy bring in a folding chair and a rolling ice box full of ice and water and juice and soda, etc. and another bag full of snacks and another with towels and clothes. Looked as if he had decided to move in notwithstanding the 80° heat."
"He was dragging that damn thing through deep sand on the beach and some of us were sure he'd drop on the spot from heat stroke. He made it and sat for a while and said hello to all the naked guys walking past and at the end offered free cold bottled water and juice to the guys, telling them he couldn't face hauling it all out again."
"It had to be done, of course, he couldn't just throw the cans in the bushes."
"So. they all took some, but not before his eyes twinkled and he told them, 'The reason I'm doing this is so I can stare at your junk while you are picking out what you want to drink.'"
"He made a joke out of it, but the everybody knew he needed the help. Now that's the team of people I want to play for as an adult. We'll all be there someday."
Eric was intrigued. He wondered if gay seniors were as lonely and isolated as younger gay men could be. He'd read about some living quarters that catered to gay seniors of all genders including those under the poverty line and made a note to see if all was being done that could be in the US at least.
"Randy, when you get time off again, lets fly out to Portland again and wander through Rooster Rock for kicks and grins. None of us get too much sunshine in Manhattan. Maybe we should start another gay senior adult community if need be."
"Let me know when you want to go, Eric, although old guys aren't my preference. I'll take the twenty-somethings first. I guess everybody looks for a version of themselves if their ego will let them." said Randy.
"What do you like to do in your free time besides seduce baseball players, I mean?"
Eric continued. "I'm an opera fan. Portland has an ambitious program each season. It's not La Scala, but the orchestra and singers have pizazz. There's an artist-in-residency program with artists I like very much. They are a little too modern for me, but I've accepted that some enjoy the new, avant-garde stories and shockers."
"I'd be happy with Puccini and Verdi every week. Even a little Gilbert and Sullivan, although it might sully their serious opera ambitions."
"The town needs a little more diversity and more work for the homeless, but no town is perfect."
"I agree."
"Tell me more about this Schuyler thing."
Eric remembered the advice to be transparent. "I'd never heard of it before I met and later married Andrew. He was the heir to the richest couple in the world. The collection of old masterpieces and gems and cash is priceless, and his mom brought the Alain Industries fortune to the mix, you know, the fusion reactor company."
"The security guards ahead and behind us are bloody serious. They are part of my package."
"Hm, the package I looked at was nice, but I didn't see them down there.'
"Smart aleck..."
"Friends get to tease friends. It's a rule, you know." Randy was on a roll. "Do gay friends get to fuck sometimes?"
"We'll have to check out that rule. They get to swim at the museum and sleep over if they're good," replied Eric.
"I'd like to see your etchings since you're rich and all."
"What do I get out of it?"
"You'll have to open the package and see. I don't brag. But I'll choose you for my team and you can throw the ball to me once in a while."
"You're too kind."
"Ball one."
They arrived back at the campus by separate cars. Eric took Randy to the pool where they got naked and swam. Randy was muscular but not overly so. He was good-looking but not stunning.
His skin was smooth, he had tiny blonde curly hairs on his chest, very strong hands, a decent cock and balls, cut 7 inches soft and blonde hair. His eyes weren't blue, but a light green. His butt was muscular and round.
He was a good swimmer and Eric had a time keeping up.
Eric swam up close to him and touched his arm. "Interested in a hug?"
"That would be a yes."
Their hard cocks touched, but they didn't 'go' from there. "You smell good, Randy."
"Thems baseball pheromones, better than the nasty footballers' sweat and earth pasted under their pits. Did you ever see a f-baller doing cologne ads?"
"No, come to think of it," said Eric.
"That's because they haven't thought of it yet." Randy grinned. "Trash talk from the dugouts and locker room showers. It soaks in after months and months of it."
"Got time for a tour of this mausoleum?"
"Yeah, I got the afternoon off. I have nothing but home runs to look forward to."
"I never hit one of those," Eric said.
"It's a good feeling. The stressful part is running around all those fucking bases and all those hunks hugging you when you get to the dugout and the slaps on your butt. You keep waiting for somebody to palm your dick...I'm still waiting, hoping..."
"I can't get over you 'growing up' in Portland...what part?"
"Goose Hollow."
"Get outta town...you didn't either."
"Gospel truth."
Pointing to his own chest, Eric replied, "A block east."
The two men high-fived.
"I used to hit balls and run on the track and field off SW 18th Avenue at Lincoln High. Tri-Met goes past it now on the way to Providence Park."
"Do you have family still in Portland?"
"No, all gone," said Randy. "I bought a house, well, a condo, in the Pearl and I love to walk there on summer nights...all the restaurants and shops and people...lovers, old people, young people with kids, the trolley not far, Powell's Books not so far away, waterfront reachable for events, marches close by, the sounds of traffic, sirens, Legacy and Emmanuel not far away.."
"Someday I'm going to have a man and get old with him in the Pearl. I can't believe I said that out loud. You're the first and only human I ever told that to...my dog knows."
"Why wait until you're old? Why not start sooner? Eric asked."
"Scared I'll be seen, I guess."
"What would be the worst thing that would happen if you were seen?"
"I might be dropped from the majors."
"And the worst if that happened?"
"I'd feel like I had wasted time."
"Have you wasted the time? Did you get to the majors? Is the guy out there waiting for you to spend more time away from him or for you to find him and be with him? What if you had a guy in the Pearl, a full-time guy there in the summer at least and started the rest of your life now?"
"That's scary."
"What if that perfect guy goes and lives his life without you meeting him because it took too long to find you?"
"That's scary."
"Not urging you brother, just saying. We got to find you one of those footballers, strong, 'randy', big dick, horny..."
"I'll find my own guy, thanks. He'll probably be a retired something by the time I ever get a guy."
"Hey, start earlier. You started baseball early. Start your love life earlier too. You never know who's out there looking for you. Don't disappoint em, man." Eric warm to his subject.
"I'll think about it.
One ice cream down the hatch, sun nearly gone in the West, cementing that friendship with clarity, interest, humor... more trash talk, baseball style, more about Portland... Eric decided adult friends were just as nice as the friends he missed out on as a kid.
"Hey, I have a couple of friends, a fireman and a chef with footman and security; we're going hiking soon in the north woods. Want to go for a week? We'll 'motor-home' it to the trailhead and tent it in from there, taking gear in and, of course, the security team at some discreet distance."
"Campfire at night, s'mores, roast frogs, riotous real or imagined sex if we click, ice-cold river or lake baths to rinse in, yummy cornmeal with vanilla, coconut, sliced almonds and raisins and dates and brown sugar for breakfast, secret recipe, backpacks, maybe a string of horses to carry some of the load."
"Are your friends discreet?"
"If we ask them to be and threaten them with twice-baked death, probably."
"I think that would be a riot...can I call you Friday and give you an answer?"
"Here's my number and email. I don't pass those around. I answer that cell. Call Henri at the Schuyler Museum this week and give him your sizes. He's picking up the warm layers of clothes for all of us to wear at higher elevations."
"I had a good time. It's a nice house, a trifle big, but what gay guy ever complained of big things?"
The next day Eric met Rodney for Italian food.
Eric had gone to Rodney's ceremony honoring him with the mayor's pin for service beyond the call of duty. Eric made a point just after the ceremony to say hi to the mayor, who had known Andrew and his parents for a long while. Eric and the mayor were acquainted.
Ushering Rodney up to the mayor again, Eric thanked the mayor for awarding the pin to his new friend.
"Thank you for honoring my friend today. I'm glad our camping trip was over in time for this important day. We went with Randy Fortin and Eduardo Cinque. Randy is the baseball player you've read about and Eduardo is a chef over at La Mozzi Italiano."
"That's one of my favorite Italian places! I really like their veal piccata!" said the mayor.
"Eduardo's boss would love to hear that. If you remember and go there again, please tell his boss that Eduardo is one of the good guys and you would appreciate his taking good care of him."
"I can do that and will."
"Any good flames since I saw you last? Eric asked Rodney later at his favorite Italian place."
"We always used to say a big one was coming when it got too quiet," said Rodney. "I don't believe the two are connected, naturally, but if they are, a big one's coming. Hey, I didn't ask you what you did for a living last time we talked."
"I'm the manager of a large fortune here in the City. I inherited it from the parents, recently deceased, of my late husband who died in an avalanche on Mt. Everest recently."
"Wow, you took it in the shorts. Do you miss him?"
"Yeah, he and I were tight, and the surprise was a blow. We gay guys don't have kids unless they are adopted or pay for a surrogate mom or some other genetic procedure and we hadn't done that yet... so, no kids miss one of their dads right now at our place, but it was still hard."
"I'm sorry for your losses."
"Thank you."
"I was going to ask if it was a fire, but you said avalanche. Reminds me of the Robert Frost poem about the end of the world, Fire and Ice; except in this case ice wasn't nice."
"It was the end of his world, fortunately quick I think, and I thought it was the end of mine for a few weeks."
"I'm not sure my wife would even miss me...maybe my paycheck and benefits, but she never sees my cock...too nasty an item for the pure virgin I married. I'm surprised we have kids, but apparently she took a couple for the Gipper. Do gay guys all like it?"
"A high percentage find that they do."
"Must be nice."
"You off today, Rodney?"
"Yeah. I don't even have to carry a beeper. I'm headed over to the Viking Club this afternoon. Hey, wanna go with and go slumming?"
"I've heard of it, never been there."
Rodney grinned. "It's either love it or hate it; there's not an in between option."
"There's a membership fee which you get to pay for both of us, you being rich and all... you then get a towel and a key and a remote for the TV in the rooms. Then a massage for a fee if you want it steam rooms, soaking pools,hot tubs, and a regular pool to swim in, private rooms for guys who want one, a lounge for TV porn watching..."
"The creepy people into whips and chains hang out... at Viking II down in Chelsea, I'm told. I've never been there and don't want to."
"Hey, I'm game for something new," said Eric.
Eric touched the bracelet on his arm after paying for the meal and they stepped into a black Suburban and gave an address. Eric payed for two memberships and they received keys for private rooms and towels.
Once in the room, they took off their clothes, wrapped the short towels around themselves after scoping each other out a little and walked down to the showers.
An attendant stood near the shower room handing out wrapped bars of expensive soap.
They unwrapped their bars, hung their towels on hooks, and soaped up. That made them both hard, there was plenty of eye candy close by.
After a final rinse, they dried off and headed for the rooftop solarium. They were a little restless after ten minutes.
They passed a play room where two couples were fucking, and Eric's neck swiveled. "Did you see... "
"Yeah. They don't call it a play room for nothing, right?"
Rodney had a thoughtful look on his face and then proceeded to the steam room, much too hot to stay in for longer than about ten minutes and they escaped. Then the 'hot tub', also too hot, then cool soaking baths which both enjoyed.
"I need a friend that won't judge me," Rodney said, "a guy that would introduce me to the moves to see if that's my scene or not. Somebody gentle who will stop if it hurts or if I think something is icky. I've never touched a guy, but I want to. What can I do?"
"A friend would offer to show you."
"Are you willing to be my friend?"
"I am."
"The 'moves' in their private rooms that followed were not Seamus intense, nor was there an 'inferno of lust', just one thing after another, laughing, analyzing a little, getting feedback, giving feedback, and eventually orgasm for both."
"Eric, I'm not in love with you."
"Thank you, I think."
"No, that came out wrong...I mean, this was great. I've satisfied my curiosity and wouldn't mind doing most of that again sometime. I hadn't come with somebody else in the room for a long time, especially not a friend."
"It makes a huge difference when you come and someone else is touching you versus jacking off by yourself. It's like an intimate sharing or something, kind of exciting that someone else is watching and knows you're shooting your cum and that person knows how good it feels."
"Someday I'll find that person, at least in my dreams and maybe for real. You've been great. At the same time, I always thought and still do, that one has to know someone well to come to the conclusion that they love them."
"In fact, I don't think it's possible to love someone you don't know."
"Right you are, man. Friends can play well together and hang out. Love is a thing where you think about the other person all the time, you can't imagine being away from them for any length of time, you commit yourself for a lifetime, and some deeper stuff."
"Oh, and Rodney, by the way, do you have any interest in camping? Some friends, a baseball player and perhaps a chef and I are going hiking for a week in the northern woods in a few weeks. We'll take a motorhome to the trailhead, then tent it with my security people close behind. It's all paid for and all I need is for my friends to come with me. You up for it?"
"Does these guys like to play?"
"Probably should ask them. Most guys who do play are reluctant to tell other people about other people. It's a privacy thing and I can't imagine they'd be offended if you asked."
"I'll ask the Captain if I can take some of my cumulative paid time off."
"Great! Here's my card with my telephone number and address. I don't hand it out to everyone for privacy reasons; my name isn't on it, just my initials. Call me when you find out."
"Don't buy supplies or sleeping bags or backpacks or camping equipment, just good hiking shoes and warm thick wool socks. Hope you can go with. We're even bringing warm clothes for the higher elevations if you call Henri at this Schuyler Museum and give him your sizes."
Eric called Eduardo for Chinese after that.
He met with Eduardo a couple days later for lunch and went through the same process. He explained what he did and who he was.
"Well, now I know one rich guy that isn't a dick."
"See, this day wasn't entirely wasted, was it?"
"Your husband and his parents all passed away in the space of a day and a half," stated Eduardo." "That's a lot of shit for a short time. How you doin now?"
"Getting better after those stages of grief you always read about."
"Yeah," said Eduardo, "it was the seminal work of Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, the Swiss psychiatrist. She identified 5 stages of grief and others enlarged on her work and continued her interest in end-of-life issues."
"You just knew that..."
"Yeah I was smart once...before I became a 'dumb Ecuadorean grunge-chef' whose only mastery now is the sauté pan in a third-rate dive."
"I didn't mean that and didn't say that. Besides, I consider guys who can take the heat in a kitchen and reliably turn out consistently good food watching six sauté pans at once over fire, doing it rapidly and making it look easy...pretty smart and talented."
"I know, just giving you a hard time. I was a physician in Ecuador but the combination of language barriers and American Boards for me was a problem. I'm unwilling now to face that pain again...I'd never flunked an exam in my life prior to those fucking Boards."
"Are you still..."
"No, I'm over it. I've gone through the grieving, unless you count the prolonged anger phase."
"What did your spouse think?"
"She found a guy who made more dough, some hetero who still thinks I somehow did her a dirty by looking at cute men. He does it himself but the money blinds her, I think."
"Have you been with a man, Eduardo?"
"Maybe... but not until after the divorce. I'm lapsed Catholic with about 2% of current Catholic conscience still hard-wired."
"Hey, some friends of mine and I are going hiking in the northern woods in a few weeks. We're looking for another to endure the hike with us; an Ecuadorean doc that can criticize the cooking would be welcome."
"We're taking a motorhome to the trailhead and tenting from there. Everything is paid for. You wouldn't have to spend a dime other than to buy thick wool socks and good hiking shoes. One guy is a baseball player, one is a fireman, and guys who are a footman, a secretary and the secretary's partner. We're bringing a string of horses to help handle the heavy stuff. The terrain is a little tough but doable. Could you get the time off?"
"I could get the time off, but then I'd have to skip the rent and my landlord never likes that. It's happened before."
"I have some money saved up for rent. If you call Henri at the Schuyler Museum and give him your sizes this week, he's buying the warm clothes for higher elevations."
Eduardo began to refuse as a matter of principle then changed his mind.
"I need to do something for myself and I must not be so proud that I reject help doing it. Pride is good; inflated pride inhibits progress, however. The rent is $350 USD...can you afford it?"
"There's enough in the fund to cover it."
"I look forward to it, then. I'll ask the Exec chef for the time off."
Eric rented the motorhome by talking to Henri who rented one after checking the trailhead's rules for parking. Security would watch the motorhome while they hiked.
Eric asked Henri to buy the building that Eduardo lived in and lowered everyone's rent to $100 USD. He wanted, however, to approve any new tenants. Present tenants were grandfathered in and no new tenants were allowed. Eric had plans for that building.
Henri and Pierre were invited, as was Paddy and they accepted because they had to, kind of. The camping equipment included several tents now, most of them large. Henri found that horses were OK and rented a string of those for the trip along with a handler.
They would carry the bulk of the food and tents and racks to raise the food above bear level if trees weren't close and other items the hikers couldn't manage including some layers of the very warm clothes of different sizes.
Henri was a planner extraordinaire but had never hiked outdoors. He conferred with the cook and made sure enough food and cooking equipment was ready.
Pierre and Henri had one tent, Eduardo and Randy shared one, and Eric was to room with Rodney. Paddy chose to stay in a single tent, playing host to whomever or inviting someone to share depending on his mood at the time.
The motorhome offered a dinette arrangement with four seats around it, the driver's seat, the passenger's seat, and a large king-size bed in the very back in addition to a bathroom and two bunk beds in between.
A pull-down bed above the large bed in the back was available. To carry all the guys comfortably, the supplies were loaded into a truck at the last minute, another motorhome was rented similar to the first with a security man driving, and Paddy navigated in the passenger seat. The back of that motor home held food, items from the drugstore including slippery stuff and condoms, backpacks and tents and other items.
A total of four friends and three employees plus security men and at the last minute an experienced chef, an expert at campfire meals, came along.
The trailhead parking had enough room for the vehicles and permits were purchased. Another set of trucks had brought the horses and their equipment. In the parking lot, the handler saddled a couple of the horses and bridled all of them.
They were tied together in a caravan arrangement and loaded with supplies. The backpacks were filled as per the lists with food and water. Two horses took all the clothes and some firewood. Henri had ordered a water filter along with the campfire cooking equipment and special matches to light the fire in cold weather and kindling. The horses took the tools, the ax, shovel, and a saw.
The security detail led the way and the four friends, along with Henri, Pierre, and Paddy followed, and the horses followed Paddy with the handler. A few more security guys brought up the rear.
The mother bear, hungry and a hundred feet up the trail with two cubs wasn't sure about the intrusion and stood up to assess the sight. A security man in front saw her first and shouted, "Bear!" The caravan came to a dead halt and guns came out, but the pepper spray shot a long way and the mother bear retreated.
A sobered group continued down the trail. They hiked for another three hours up and down, enjoying each other and the views of steep rocks and deep valleys as well as the trees, when finally, they reached an open clearing.
"We can camp here for the night."
The chef needed time to light the fire and do some cooking. The four friends sat and talked.
Eric had formally introduced Randy, Rodney and Eduardo to each other in the motor home. They assessed each other and shook hands.
Eduardo was star-struck a little by Randy, an actual major league baseball player in the flesh, Rodney was impressed by Eduardo, a guy that could actually cook, and Randy by both, two hot muscular guys he assumed were gay but didn't want to ask but was dying to.
"Let's get the tents set up, guys."
That took a while. It was everyone's first time tenting and they hadn't watched a YouTube video about setup on this model of tent, but it eventually got done, and the sleeping bags and air mattresses were placed. An area to use as a bathroom was designated far away from food and drinking water. A trench was dug.
Tent assignments were given out and the instructions were that they could be changed whenever anyone couldn't stand the sight or smell of their roommate. They laughed and joked, enjoyed the campfire, and the food could have been moldy and rotten.
The men would not have noticed. It tasted good because they were having a good time. The food wasn't neither moldy nor rotten...it was excellent.
During the night the men huddled together for warmth; in two tents, two sleeping bags were zippered together so the two men inside could snuggle for warmth.
Eric woke up naked, warm, and toasty with his cock nestled in Rodney's crack. Randy awoke with Eduardo's marble-hard cock nestled behind him against his ass, very nice...soft, yet hard...and warm. Randy thought about the possibilities and those thoughts made him leak a little. He got up, pulled on his shorts and pants and ran to the outdoor latrine. Then he hustled back to the tent for a few more minutes of restless sleep.
Henri and Pierre had managed to stay warm in their own bags as had Paddy, being closer to the fire, which was tended by various people during the night.
The cold grey morning found blanket-wrapped men shivering a little around the fire, grinning into adversity, hungry, sipping hot coffee, a little horny but not ready to have an orgy in the cold. The pancakes with maple syrup and applesauce with cinnamon plus turkey sausage did a lot to wake them further, the fire extinguished, the tents were struck and folded, the campsite made pristine.
They carried everything they used to the next campsite late that afternoon. The hike was mostly uphill and as they gained elevation, they gained view.
A field of wildflowers, sparse spindly trees now, tall sharp rocks on the side, a river far below which they saw flowing, but could barely hear it far below.
The rests in scenic places were always welcome. Blisters got treated by Eduardo who had thought to bring something for that, and he gave out some of his personal supply of Tylenol.
After a few moments, Paddy broke the ice, brought out a towel to sit on, hauled his pants down and shorts and began to masturbate, his eyes focused dreamily in the distance to a far mountain and his fabulous ass showing to advantage. Within two minutes the group had joined in to a man. The hike turned into a massive circle jerk of sorts.
That night there were two roommate changes during the night, one after another, and sounds of passion filled all the tents, Paddy dragging his sleeping bag for a blanket to any tent that would take him and joining in the festivities. His ass assured that he received no rejections, more than one top finding out that fucking a cold ass was erotic in the extreme.
During the very cold night Henri and Pierre joined their sleeping bags at the zippers and naked, kept each other warm skin to skin, not shivering at all except during the night when, with flashlights, they scurried to pee and ran back to the tent.
The next day, it was seriously cold in the morning and all the extra-thick clothes that could comfortably fit were plastered on in layers.
Thanks to Eric and Henri's plans and forethought, everyone had a pair of silk long johns as their first layer. Double layered jeans lined with flannel came next and ski jackets made for extreme cold skiing were layered over those. Then came woolen masks and hats, and last, lined leather gloves.
Even the horses got a wool horse blanket and head mask for the first few hours.
The hikers were warned to drink enough water and eat enough calories for breakfast. The trail began to wind down into trees and by noon they had reached a small heart-shaped lake. They hadn't seen any other campers yet.
There was a clearing near the lake and the cook hung up the food he wouldn't need. He lit a strong campfire and cooked beef stroganoff for supper with a Dutch oven peach cobbler and served some of the beer as well. It was a craft IPA beer that everyone enjoyed except Eric who didn't try it.
That night, a little warmer, more roommate changes happened and again, happy moans and other noises filled the air much of the night, including some pretty explosive sex between Paddy and Eduardo. Queen Victoria would have disapproved of the cursing, the profane sexual references, the screaming and other sexual noises.
All four friends were bonding in some pretty tangible ways and Paddy flitted among all of them, salting the mix with his cute ass, finally deciding that Eduardo gave him the most bang for his buck. No one felt left out who wanted in, however.
The next day, day four was sunny and even warmer at lower altitudes and the going was a little easier over mostly flat ground. The horses didn't need extra layers. Neither did the men.
Some hiked with bare chests. They made comfortable progress around the loop back to the trailhead. As the day became hotter, a few men hiked naked, cocks swinging, mosquitos too frightened to bite.
Warm weather in the low 80's enabled the men to sleep on top of their sleeping bags the last night and in a few cases, each other for periods of time... they had bonded as friends, not as lovers, with shared experiences and the half day in the morning went by quickly.
All of them met for poker at a penny a point the next week at the Schuyler Museum. They all wanted to go camping again sometime.
Rodney cleaned up several dollars to the good. This was the fireman's game during slack hours. It became the game of choice once a week when their schedules allowed, and he invariably took a couple of bucks from the others.
Eric had dropped the name 'Campus'. This was his home, not a frat house, not a dorm, not a Campus in any case with only the one major building. Randy dropped by the Museum a couple of times a week to visit his suite. All four friends had been offered a suite.
Both Randy and Rodney took one suite. Eduardo took one, but often visited Paddy's suite. He also kept his $100 USD apartment in the city, now rent-controlled. Randy had another condo and Rodney, still shackled, couldn't be out of his house much.
Randy rarely stayed in his own suite all night. Eric really liked his company and would eat, talk and get naked with Randy as often as the opportunity presented itself. The problem with visiting Portland was that the baseball season encompassed most all of the summer and then some...prime time for visiting Oregon.
It became real clear real fast to both of them that if Randy wanted to be a 'roots' guy he would have to re-visit Eric's suggestion of finding a guy and retiring early to Portland.
One night, Randy got around to verbalizing his thoughts and feelings.
"Eric, do you remember telling me I should consider finding my guy and spending my time in Portland?"
"Yeah, vaguely, I guess."
"I'm going to retire. Some guy is waiting for me. My condo in the Pearl has enough room for a bunch of people. I miss Goose Hollow and Tri-Met and Rooster Rock and marches and straight talking. If I move out there, I'll miss baseball some. I'll really miss you. I'll sell my condo here in Manhattan probably..."
Eric's heart sank. He hadn't heard Randy had a guy in Portland and all of a sudden, he realized that he himself wanted to be 'Randy's guy.'
"Why would you miss me, Randy?"
"Because we wouldn't have these times together."
"Why not? You said your guy is waiting for you. Couldn't I be your guy, Randy? I've been looking for you, you know, for a long time. The guy from back home. I've never been as comfortable with anyone as I am with you, including Andrew."
"You and I got to 'Ball One.' Can we continue to play on...through life?"
Randy's eyes started to water, and he felt an urgent need to swallow hard.
"Do you mean... I mean, could you spend some time in Portland in the summer?"
"I'd rather live with you all year long if you'll have me. We might have to make some changes in your digs for a chef and a footman and for Henri and Pierre or I could buy the building and use an adjacent condo for them and another for Paddy and the chef."
"I've been wanting to add a Schuyler Museum to Portland and could manage the Trust and the museum here from anywhere in the world that the Internet and my cell reach."
"If need be, I'd give up all that, though," said Eric.
"I'm not worth all that."
"I think you are worth infinitely more than the Trust and Alain Industries put together," Eric replied.
"You'd really be willing to be my man?"
"You'd take me on and walk in the Pearl in the evening with me dangled on your side in public?" asked Eric.
"Oh, yeah." Randy exclaimed.
"And get naked with me as often as I demand it?"
"Oh, yeah. On demand man."
"And make babies and be the world's greatest dad?" ,
"Oh, fuck yeah."
"And put up with my mother and Rose on occasion?"
"You know," said Randy, "we really ought to discuss this some more. I have some limits after all. A stain here, a stain there...pretty soon you've got a mess going. We baseball players are taught to avoid errors, you know."
"Smart aleck."
"Fuckster. If I'm your guy you have to do what I tell you to do, commanded Randy."
"In your dreams, Mr. 'my guy'."
"OK, we'll compromise. I'll tell you what to do and you'll do what you want to do."
"Sounds reasonable," said Eric.
"Everything else we'll just suggest or show the body part and take it from there and still do what we want to do?"
"I like the way you think, stud. You show me your ass and I..."
"You think I'm a stud?" Randy sounded dubious.
"Oh, yes I do."
"Hold that thought," said Randy.
"Wanna seal the deal? Come over here and I'll hold anything you want held."
"Thought you'd never ask." Randy moved closer.
Eric playfully swatted Randy's ass when Randy stuck out his hand to shake on it.
"I don't want to shake your hand, shtupnagel, I want an iron-clad contract," Eric said with a fake stern voice.
"No, you don't, you want to push the nail where the sun doesn't shine." Randy wasn't falling for it.
"That too. It's my first suggestion to you as your guy and now the ball's in your court." Eric took Randy in his arms.
"Great place for balls to be."
They laughed, their smiles faded a little seeing far into their future, getting old together, the ups, the downs, the work, the kids, the losses, the wins, the errors, the runs, the home runs, the balls, the sex, love too in time. Then both were somehow in tears, their mouths met, already naked and with hormones raging, Eric shtupped his nail into Randy's more than willing ass.
Afterward, they lie still on Eric's sheets, each feeling lighter...a decision made, resolution obtained, a burden lifted, Randy felt that he had been listened to, Eric that he had a friend to help him through the Trust's upcoming challenges. Also, a brilliant, energetic bottom, always a plus. He began to giggle.
Randy raised an eyebrow with the energy remaining after their love-making and inquired as to the source of humor this time.
"I was thinking lofty thoughts about the wonderful reasons I should be happy about us getting together, then I just happened to remember that among those lofty thoughts was your world-class bottom: how deep and tight it is, how absolutely well you shake and move it..."
"Hey, Randy said in a mock ferocious tone of voice, "it deserves a world-class cock and driver, always did, and always will. Don't make fun of it."
"How can I make it up to your world-class self, sir?" This time Eric was half-serious.
"I'll think of something," replied Randy. "Dinner comes to mind plus several laps in the pool, some squats, and if we don't have a track here, a trip to a gym that has one to run off the dinner, then back here to kiss for a while like all good boyfriends do...as an initial down payment for your sins."
"Hmm--can we start that last part now?"
"Not unless you brush your teeth and rinse with mouthwash first, you stinker. But after that, if I'm still awake, then I promised to consider your request favorably. Here I'll go with you and we'll brush together."
There was a knock at the door and Eric buzzed Paddy in. Eduardo followed him into the suite, a little sheepish. "I see you two have been playing tag or something in here. Smells like a brothel, not that I'd know that smell, but we have news for you."
"No news is good news."
"This news really is cool. Eduardo and I are going to move into my suite, if that meets with your approval."
"That meets with my approval. I'm psyched to hear it. Eduardo, you are a sly one. Will you be working still, or will Paddy keep you occupied full-time?"
Eduardo grinned. "The temptation is to stay in the suite with him every moment to keep my competition away from him, but he has work to do and so do I. Besides the obvious advantages, he has promised to tutor me in English and after I take the Special Exam, I might re-apply to practice."
"This Museum needs a doctor in the house, no?"
"It does indeed, if nothing else but counselling to keep Paddy calm."
After they left, Eric and Randy began to discuss details and dates, when they might announce things and to whom, resignation date, business details, details about moving out to Portland.
"I don't want to dance around money issues, Randy. Are you fixed for money now?"
"I've saved up $12 million USD, all but $1 million USD of that in equities, and have the equity in my Manhattan condo, perhaps another $3 million USD coming on its sale."
"You are my family now, Randy. Tomorrow I am asking the Trust to put a $1 billion USD into a Trust for you.
"The capital will not revert to the Schuyler Trust. That Trust 's income will be yours to spend however you want. You may will that Trust to whomever you like when you pass on someday, even to me if I am still alive, or to any children we have or a foundation for sick cats, or orphans whose parents died of HIV in Africa... that will be up to you."
"The income at 10% per year including dividends could total $100 million a year. That should replace your baseball income."
"I would like to purchase the building where your Portland condo is located and like we talked about, remodel the whole thing. If you want to help by sharing some of the expenses, you could consider paying for the remodel of your condo, the condo in the Pearl."
"We'll enlarge yours if needed and both live there. I'm sure the kitchen, laundry, security, footman, and other services will need some of the extra space in the building and we could lease out the rest to qualified people."
"I could ask Henri to begin looking at good property for the Museum in Portland close to Tri-Met."
"I may have to purchase existing buildings, tear them down and rebuild in the southwestern corner of downtown not far from Portland State University. We'll see. Also, we need permission for a heliport on the roof of our building, not the actual museum."
"We need to meet with the governor and contribute as needed and have our two New York senators introduce us to the Oregon senators in Washington, D.C."
"Sorry, I get to thinking out loud. I'll save that for Henri."
"Thank you for the Trust," said Randy. "You didn't have to do that. I'm starting to see how money paves the way for forward travel; not having enough money tears up the street and the sidewalk too."
"That's why it was a gift to you. You're welcome."
Rodney took the news hard. "Do they need any firemen out there?"
"Of course, they do. Are you ready to leave your wife and kids?"
"I can't leave my kids."
"I wouldn't have expected you to leave or uproot them. I still have four jets. Randy and I will travel back to Manhattan often to see you and do other business. I'm hoping Eduardo and Paddy will live here in Portland."
"If you and the kids ever want to relocate, I hope you remember good buddies in Portland with a soft spot for hunky firemen that would welcome you with open arms. I speak for Randy too, I think."
"Are you two an item now?"
"Yes, we're committed. We haven't discussed closed versus open. We might be open to a throuple...can't speak for him yet. I have enough love for all of my friends and then some. I think he does too, but again, I can't speak for him. I do know for sure that you would be number one on a throuple list if that were to happen."
Henri and Eric had a long talk the next morning. Henri was delighted to move to Portland as long as he still had access to the jets which he did. He called Pierre and even with limited information, Pierre told him he'd be with him anyplace for as long as he was wanted.
Henri found a large block a little east of the outbound Tri-Met Providence Park station which had a number of buildings, some abandoned, and hired a local realtor to quietly buy the block in chunks after consulting with the mayor and city council and the local arts groups. It was on the 'wrong' side of the I 405 freeway, but the sheer draw of the planned exhibits was sure to make it just the 'other' side.
The governor professed herself delighted. Eric met the Oregon senators and was impressed with their progressive policy thinking. He also talked to the editorial staff at the Willamette Week and the Oregonian in addition to the local environmental groups for their input.
Portland already had a branch of Schuyler Bank and Schuyler Traders. Somewhere along the timeline, after receiving the bill from the local realtor, Eric quietly established a national firm chartered in Delaware, called Schuyler Realtors. He couldn't help but think that keeping that realtor's commission would have made a fortune and multiplied on a national scale with their IT power and hired business skills, they could train and hire realtors from disadvantaged neighborhoods who needed jobs.
The first branch of Schuyler Realtors was in Portland, Oregon.
The buildings on that block were torn down and architects already had the museum and its parking planned. It was secured similarly to the museum in Manhattan. There were two basement levels with very large elevators along one enormous wall for emergencies and tons of exhibition space in secured, controlled environmental space, well-lighted with restoration and conservation facilities, student spaces, an art history library, and outside in a lovely courtyard, a great fountain and a quiet herb garden for meditation.
Masterworks from the Manhattan and Colorado storage facilities were transferred a year later in December. After the World Series, Randy announced his retirement. He made headlines doing it.
"I have met," he told reporters from print and visual media, "the love of my life, Eric Schuyler. We are moving back to the city where we both grew up, not knowing each other then. We became friends before I knew he had a dime during his search for friends after his late husband's death in an avalanche on Mt. Everest. We are drawn back to Portland Oregon, the City of Roses, to grow our relationship and continue the work of the Schuyler Trust now on the left coast in addition to Manhattan's Atlantic coast work."
"I am announcing my retirement from major league baseball to be with him in Portland. Thank you for respecting our privacy."
Most of the journalists and reporters present had never heard of the Schuyler Trust. They came to know it right away. The story exploded onto the media and was front page news in print, leading story on TV news, and a viral subject of a lot of social media comment.
Back in Paris, the traders in the Place des Vosges stopped trading for a moment and cheered and yelled and clapped when the live feed came through.
The curators danced with each other at the Louvre.
Lucy, in Portland, called Rose and they met for lunch at the cafe to celebrate with their friends.
In Hollywood, Sai and Vihaan at the Hollywood Casting Company watched the announcement on the nightly news, holding each other, joyful smiles playing on their faces. Previously stricken at the news of Andrew's death, they had waited patiently for the other shoe to fall, balancing the blow to Eric. Time had brought that shoe for them to appreciate during their lifetime.
Another glimpse of good karma, they decided.
Randy had talked to Eric about the statement beforehand and even though the Trust didn't like publicity, this was a special occasion and the exception sometimes won.
Then came the day Eric asked Paddy to bring Eduardo and live in their building.
"Of course, we'll both move with you. This is no time for you to train a new footman. Eduardo can study and take tests in Portland."
David was also asked to move to Portland, but he wanted to stay in Manhattan. "I'll stay behind and make sure the house is ready for you when you visit."
Men from the University of Portland and PSU were interviewed for footman positions at Schuyler House. Word had quickly spread that the salary and benefits were astronomical, including the pool, the gym, the library, the theatre and the educational benefits including a college degree reimbursement schedule for tuition and books along with the free housing, 100% med/dent/pharmaceutical reimbursement, life insurance, 401-K dollar for dollar.
The lines and application stacks were expected to be long.
They were.
Henri organized sessions to screen the applications.
He looked for neighbor-next-door looks rather than drop-dead handsome, good grades over bad, polite, ethical, service-oriented types and those with previous hotel, concierge, and waitstaff experience went to the front of the line. Twenty names went into the hopper and sixteen hired after interviews. Exhaustive. Interviews.
The maid staff were hired. Some of the Manhattan chefs were flown out to work in Portland and organize the kitchens. There were Manhattan representatives in most of the service departments, flown out to bring their department up to speed, and a few found themselves upgraded to a director position.
The first exhibition in Portland entitled 'The Rarely Seen Monet-A Comprehensive Look' featured both Schuyler masterpieces, some of which hadn't seen the light of day in many years and borrowed Monet paintings from the Louvre, the Prado in Madrid, and the British Museum. The news stunned the art world around the globe.
Tickets for the exhibition sold out quickly online from all continents and most countries, blocks reserved for every major country and all continents. It lasted three months and every day a crowd filled the museum.
Major art reviewers labelled the exhibition 'a tour de force' and 'a once-in-a-lifetime art event' and 'if you don't see anything else in this life, see this' event and 'in Portland, Oregon?!"
All of the reviewers got to see the exhibition one weekday morning the first week with no other visitors, a private viewing.
The periods of Monet's life as a painter were all well represented, even sketches from what must have been his childhood or teen years.