This story is a work of complete fiction. Any resemblance to living persons or the departed, to reality is a coincidence. This story eventually includes descriptions of sex between adult males. If you are a minor, if this material is illegal where you live, or if this material offends you, please don't read it. Please donate to Nifty. Find the donation button on the Nifty web site to help you to pay your share of their expenses to provide these entertaining stories for you. Remember that authors depend on feedback for improvement and encouragement. All rights reserved.
James Robert Nolgren MD: Nolgren MD, Attending-5
"Joe, how do you feel about having James and Lawrence move in with us... including them in our daily life?"
"I've been thinking about that every day," replied Joe. "I can think of the benefits, the synergy, the sex, the sharing, the planning. What isn't in focus is who takes charge, if anyone, and how do decisions get made as a quartet of men loving each other. Is it an open relationship? Can one of the polyamorous quartet of men go out and be attracted to someone and even have sex with that fifth person without getting permission?"
"Do there have to be rules or just 'understandings'? Can we have sex with any one of the four whenever we want? Can any three exclude the fourth? Are disputes going to turn into two people against two people or one against three? For that matter, how do disputes get solved in a quad lover situation?"
"It almost seems like in a dispute, one person has to lead toward a resolution that everyone sees is fair." Joe was just warming up to answer his own questions when the phone rang, and Lawrence wanted to know if he and James could bring supper over.
"Sure, stud. We'll leave the lights on in front and back and the door open. Just come on in. Are your ears burning? We were just discussing you guys."
Over supper, the four men forged an informal understanding of how a male polyamorous quad might function. They talked about dispute resolution. No one would lead out, but they would keep talking until everyone was convinced things were equitable.
They discussed open communication about jealousy issues. They agreed no one could be dominant or give orders. Dennis and Joe owned the home and would make the decisions about maintenance and restoration and add-ons, the physical part.
Since they had already jointly planned to hire a cook, a maid and a houseboy, Lawrence asked permission to supervise them unless someone else in the group wanted that duty.
Dennis and Joe being the trained negotiators they were, noted that James was tapping his foot rapidly on the floor and a pencil rapidly on the table, a sure tell of stress in a negotiation.
"What's on your mind, James?"
"I'm not sure I thought about all of this enough. I'm wondering how I'm going to feel if I operate until ll pm and come home to moans and groans of you three going at it hot and heavy."
"That's a good question," said Joe. "Let's discuss that. It will be good practice. It sounds like you are worried about the sex part, the distraction interfering with needed rest sometimes late at night and even the unplanned timing and even missing out on one of your favorite things. Does that include all of what you were thinking about?"
"Yes, that summarizes my fears very well, replied James."
Joe was warming up. "What if we scheduled most of the sexual activity as date nights, when you know you'll be home, or when any of us have time to get home actually, and 2 or 3 or all of us can do what we planned. Then if one misses out, he misses out because of his own work or other duties that called and the distraction factor will be missed instead of resented. In the best case, all will meet as planned for great loving!"
"I like the way you think," said James.
Joe went on, "What if at least half of the date nights were couple nights, DJ apart or James/Lawrence apart to maintain the couple nature that formed our quad?" Everyone signed off on that.
"If Lawrence and Dennis fuck all day, pardon my rude expression, men and are too tired to perform for their other date that night, there might be negative feelings. Are these dates sacrosanct or can one of a date call the other or others and beg off beforehand, doing them the courtesy of cooling off before walking in the door?"
Dennis took that one on.
"Most of the time, even with a date scheduled, there's going to be another glad to join in. And even if four are scheduled, three can make a joyful noise. Hell, two can have a powerful amount of fun if two others don't show. For that matter, one..."
"Point taken," said Lawrence. "In the event that a previously scheduled date is diminished by one and another is present and eager, then the polite thing if not a couple date would be to invite them to join in, right?"
"We might have a consensus already," said Dennis. "Sounds like the priority date is a couple date, then the scheduled date if all hands are on deck and alive, and after that an 'all-willing' date either scheduled or not.
"I think," said Joe, "if someone not scheduled is resting or reading or doing the computer, that the dating men move to their own room so not to distract the first person in the room. A little common courtesy goes a long way. Same if someone wanders into an active 'dating' room...get lost and make it private unless said private person gets so turned on that the daters take pity on their poor ass."
Dennis suggested they might want to talk next time about the public relations issues presented by a quad in town. "People will talk. Can we just tell them that private things are private at our house?"
"Could you legal guys come up with an equitable cost-sharing plan for us to look at? We would want to share common items and pay for our own expenses including travel. Wills too. I'm leaving my worldly goods to Lawrence first, then after his death in 80 years to you guys. Open to change if any of you make me crazy or cute grandkids show up or I go broke."
"Some jealousy gets sparked by other things. Dennis comes home to find James fucking Joe on the kitchen floor. How will Dennis feel about that? We already know now James and Joe are feeling about it"
There was general, slightly nervous laughter at that remark.
"Or slightly different problem, Joe fucking James senseless me on the kitchen floor...said participants still feeling the same about that. How does Dennis feel?"
"Can he announce at some point that he's feeling uneasy or a little jealous that his lover is fucking another lover? That seems a little silly, but we're encouraged to speak our feelings anyway. To whom and when is the question?"
"Certainly, yelling at that point doesn't solve anything and would lead to some open anger and lasting wrath and resentment which the house doesn't need."
"Should we have a ten-minute thing at Wednesday breakfast or some day of the week breakfast to emote?" Everybody agreed.
Dennis stood. "Enough talking? I'd like to propose a toast to us four men as equal lovers, no alpha, no pain, cooperating in the house, sharing our love openly, eagerly, spontaneously while keeping date night scheduling in mind, open sexually without rules, with lots of communication to get it right, free to speak for one's self and for the core with consensus, to share life's ups and downs, to be equal, active fathers if children enter the family, to do the work to maintain our 4 person core while free to love others outside the core without permission or apology, to be responsible about sexual infections, to always wear condoms or use PREP far in advance if needed to avoid passing disease between us."
"Hear, hear." Lawrence, Joe and James replied and lifted their glasses to drink.
"If no one else wants the job, I'll start off scheduling the date nights," said Joe. "If someone else wants the job or if the group wants a replacement, that's fine with me. Let me know what your preferences might be for a night and who you want to be with that night. I'll be sure to include half of the nights as 'couple' dates. Anybody not OK with 8pm to 8am hours for dates? You can always leave the house earlier if you are going out to eat or to a symphony or something. I'll get a chalkboard to put up in the kitchen for the core of us, indicating where everyone is and who they are with."
"When do you guys want to move in and can you arrange to replicate the fire alarm system that you have at the NW 25th address here?"
The new house up the hill from PSU got its new fire alarm system the next week. In addition, the house sported wireless control of its appliances from an app shared by the core guys. If one was coming home from work, they could see the house temps, any recent changes by other core men, and change the temps in different zones from the app so the house was warm when they got home.
There were security cameras in and around the house whose output was visible on smartphone apps as well. One camera and a sensor measured ice on the driveway and an app measured and controlled the warm water pipes under the driveway which melted that ice. There was a network of almost invisible wires on the roof that melted snow and ice on the roof of the house. James and Lawrence had two vehicles, DJ had four. The garage housed five, not enough room for six.
Their solution was to have keys for all vehicles in the garage, so anyone could take a car as they wished, and the sixth car was parked outside on a concrete slab and covered in winter.
DJ invested the rest of their fortune in a diversified way to hedge it properly. They avoided high-risk junk bonds and bought stocks with a history of dividends and growth and left them to grow in place. They didn't have much in the way of broker costs because they didn't allow churning of their stock mix.
"I'm not feeling good," said Joe to Dennis one day just before lunch at the office. "I'm going home to rest."
"Do you need me to come with ya? I can tell the front to reschedule everything."
"I would like to have you come with me." This wasn't like Joe and Dennis was getting concerned.
"Do you hurt someplace?"
"Yeah, my abdomen hurts right in the middle. No diarrhea."
"Let's rustle up a thermometer if there's one in the office..." Dennis went through a cabinet in the bathroom and found one. "Hm...99.8F"
"Let's go home, lover."
Dennis helped Joe into the Maserati and home they went. "Are you hungry?"
"No. Oh man, this is getting worse." Joe's face was scrunched up in pain.
Dennis called James, who asked a few questions and told Dennis to take Joe to OHSU emergency room just down the hill and over a few blocks. James said he would meet them there as he was in between a radical hysterectomy and a pelvic lymph node dissection at the time. Once they arrived, Joe was trying to concentrate on his breathing, but starting to sweat from the pain.
The ER doc ordered a CBC primarily for the white count and hemoglobin. The latter was normal. The white count was slightly elevated at about 11. The doc pressed on Joe's belly just under his ribs and Joe didn't flinch. The doc pressed in just above his public bone...same result. Deep pressure right at the navel hurt a little and Joe said the pain location had moved over to the right a few inches, about half-way between the navel and the right iliac crest, the prominent bone on both lower sides. The doctor pressed deep there...that hurt...and lifted his hand quickly...Joe came off the table, writhing in pain and yelled.
"We've got a diagnosis, the ER doc said. There's an inflamed appendix inside. One of the new options for treating that is to give IV antibiotics and hold food for a day or two."
"The problem with that is that it sometimes doesn't work and if the appendix bursts in the meanwhile, the subsequent operation can be messy contributing to a full abdominal infection with resultant scar tissue and pain that sometimes lasts."
"The traditional option of immediate surgery to prevent that rupture used to involve a fairly long incision in the right lower quadrant of the belly."
"Now we just use a laparoscope using two or three very small short incisions, so the patient goes home the next day, 'chop-chop'. Sometimes we can't see or operate well through the scope and still have to open with longer incisions but not usually."
"My advice is to scope it and remove it. Period. You'd be asleep for forty-five minutes or so."
By this time James was in the ER with them and agreed to the last part about the diagnosis and urged Joe to sign his consent for the scope.
"I just want this pain to go away...give me the damned paper and I'll sign it."
After he signed he was given a dose of a narcotic which only made him not care so much about the pain which was still present.
The nurse wouldn't let him have any food or water before the operation and soon he was being wheeled after a hug and kiss from James and Dennis to the OR.
The first thing Joe heard as he was waking up was someone groaning in pain. It took him a few minutes to realize that someone was himself and even then, it was as if he was standing apart from the bed he was on looking and listening in. He could feel a hot, thick blanket over him covering the sheet. That heat was the most welcome sensation he could imagine. It felt really good.
He wasn't thinking about who he was or who he knew. He wasn't hungry. He didn't need to pee. Joe, the typical post-anesthesia patient, was far inside of himself, detached from thought and process, noticing his surroundings a little, his eyes shut most of the time even when he had a thought in his mind. He was amazed at his ability to not think about anything but breathing.
In a sort of vacuum, he heard a doctor talking to someone saying that the operation was over, and 'he' had done well and would be waking up over time.
He didn't immediately realize that the doc was talking to him. His thoughts were hazy, concentration just not happening, a lot of random thoughts, half-baked then forgotten, a little dizzy.
He tried to shift position since his butt felt like he hadn't moved for a while and the effort hurt in his abdomen down on the lower right just toward his feet from his navel.
His hand moved down there very slowly, it actually sneaked down there and encountered a dressing of some kind. A nurse caught him and snatched his hand back.
"Leave it alone. You don't want to disturb the dressing."
She spoke kindly enough, but he couldn't remember what he wanted to say to her. Like the typical helpless PACU patient, he noted kindness and nursing acts that increased his comfort. The PACU nurse was a strong authority figure, a forward link in those dark moments to restoration to some new reality. Those would in future years help form his general opinion about nurses as a group of kind, caring people. Some were. Some weren't, in truth.
He felt a little short of breath and wanted to cry about something, then went back to sleep and didn't think anything for a while.
When he woke, the bed was moving to another part of the room and a different nurse was telling him that he was going to be moved out of the post-anesthesia care unit to his room and to just lie still.
He looked up and saw the IV bag and the chamber beneath, a slow drip of clear fluid dripping into an IV pump which passed the fluid, he assumed, into the tubing into his arm.
His arm was a little cold on that side. He guessed they didn't heat the IV fluid. If the IV fluid was room temp at 72 degrees F, that was a lot lower than 98 F body heat and so would be expected to feel cold as the fluid traveled up to the heart to be pumped through his body.
He hoped all of the routine safety checks on the IV fluid were done properly.
He guessed that every industry had quality control measures. His mind reviewed what kind of measures that a company producing IV fluids would have.
They would want the IV fluid to be sterile, no living bacteria, viruses or fungus. They would want the stated concentrations of salt and/or sugar to be exactly correct. They would test the water part to make sure it was pure.
Ordinarily he wouldn't have thought about IV fluids or quality control. He wondered what he normally thought about until a legal phrase or two skittered through his mind, then he thought of Yale and law school, then Dennis. A shiver ran down his spine and his cock jumped a little.
Then he remembered he must be in Portland and then the sudden return, overwhelming, of his job and house and relationships flooded into his thinking. Where was Dennis? Why wasn't he in the room? Was he OK? Did he know Joe had been sick and had surgery? Where was the doctor? He was all alone in the room, all alone in the world... maybe. It was too much to think about and he slept.
A pair of noise-canceling headphones played soft music in his ears. Dennis had brought in Joe's favorite Chopin Nocturne, Opus 55, No. 1 in F Minor, a calming, gorgeous piece of music. It looped a few times before the door opened next.
He woke up then, and Dennis slipped into the room, took his hand, leaned over the bed and kissed him. "Hello, my sweet prince."
His first thought was that he recognized a scent near and dear to him, masculine, warm; he remembered the scent of Dennis' aftershave. The next thought was to kiss Dennis back. He was puzzled by the tears in Dennis' eyes and one slipping down his cheek.
"Everything's OK lover." Joe had reached up and dried Dennis' cheek with his fingers. "Are you all right?" Then several tears popped out and slid down the cheek. Dennis removed the Joe's headphones.
"I was scared, Joe. When they said you needed surgery...I knew you were in good hands, but you'd never been sick that I knew of and for some reason I got to wondering if you would make it through... I'm sorry for the drama, man. I'm through washing my tear ducts now."
"What time is it," said Joe, trying to stay awake.
"It's nearly three a.m. and you're going to get some more sleep. The nurse is bringing in more pain medication for you. I'm going to sleep on a cot here in the room. She said they would bring one up from downstairs and that there are sheets and blankets, pillows and pillowcases here on the unit.
She offered to have the cafeteria bring breakfast here to the room for me. You will have clear liquids in the morning, you know, like gourmet tea and apple juice, maybe some green gelatin. I told you so now you can dream of food. I'll be right here."
"James and Lawrence went home. I told them there's not much for them to accomplish here. They want to come back after breakfast and tell you they love you. I think they are arranging for a male nurse hunk to come in and do some serious home care when you are discharged in a day or two."
Joe did get jello, not green but orange for a couple of meals, then advanced to full liquids, including dairy and pureed this and that. He ate his first soft diet and the doctor was ready to send him home about a day later in the morning.
All hands were on deck to wheel him out to the Jeep. The Maserati was too low to get out of easily for a post-op patient. The Jeep was high enough to practically fall out of at home but required an assist to get up into the 'saddle' so to speak. Joe was glad to smell the fresh air of Portland, the scent of trees and feel Oregon mist on his face.
Dennis hadn't been kidding. The nurse that arrived later that morning to do an assessment for home care was male. A scrawny, skinny, twenty-something male of the species with pimples rang the doorbell and was admitted by the maid. The core were respectful and even cordial; every one of them was thinking that this wasn't the hunk they'd been promised by the agency.
The nurse, one Biggy Jones, efficiently obtained Joe's information and examined him. He reached into his bag and pulled out a small battery-operated machine that clipped on to Joe's finger and measured pulse rate and oxygen saturation (pO2). He counted Joe's respiratory rate in breaths per minute by counting his breaths in 15 seconds and multiplying x four. Biggy took Joe's temperature.
Then came a blood pressure measurement. Biggy used his stethoscope to listen to Joe's lungs and heart then helped him to lie down and took his pajamas off. The room was warm; Joe didn't feel cold. Biggy examined his abdomen with the stethoscope listening for bowel sounds and very gently pushed in various spots finding no problem.
Joe's cock had always been on a hair trigger. Having a stranger's gentle touch on his belly pulled that trigger and he was instantly erect. Dennis noticed and giggled. Biggy noticed and tried to be professional, saying only that it was a pretty natural reaction for a guy. He told Joe he'd had a similar problem all his life, it seemed.
When he stood up, all four men of the core immediately understood exactly what that problem was and how Biggy had gotten his name. They thought. The nurse was erect in his uniform and they saw an axe handle-sized cock tenting out his uniformed pants extending above his navel area.
"My mother and father named me Biggy. It was big at birth. In the gym showers in school you can imagine the looks and the talk. It's my curse."
"Not here, it's not."
Lawrence and James spoke the words together. They told him that his profession was a great benefit to others and his cock could be the same.
"My assessment is finished. The nurse that is sent out by the agency will change the dressing when and if the surgeon orders it done. Some surgeons like to do that themselves in the office at the post-op visit.
My advice is to keep the dressing clean and dry. Don't take it off and don't touch the incision no matter what."
He left then after giving his card to the maid, a handsome eighteen-year-old art student at PSU named Ted who had applied for the job when he saw it posted and told them that he was a 'cleaning fool'. His momma had taught him how to clean, his daddy how to work hard, and his ex-boyfriend how to play.
Ted didn't drink, smoke, or party. His art was his life otherwise. He needed a place to stay and since the servant's quarters were still empty he'd been hired on the spot and moved in the next day, all two suitcases and three boxes worth.
His eyes had brightened when he saw the nurse at the door and during the exam his mouth had gone dry seeing and hearing everything. Simply put, he wanted that boy's key in his lock, wanted it bad. The card was to him a gift, an invitation. He wasn't sure it was meant that way and dithered over the possibles for a week before calling the nurse.
"Is this Biggy Jones? Sure, my name is Ted Schuler, the maid at the Favre residence. You were here to assess Joe last week. You gave me your card and I'm wondering...what? Yes, I have tonight off after 6 p.m. Where? I've only heard about it, I haven't been there, can't afford it, but I do have a month pass to Tri-Met."
A brief conversation followed. "You will? Then, sure I can meet you there at seven p.m. Look forward to it."
Ted began to shiver. Could he do this? He pulled up the Tri-Met route web site and clicked on 'Trip Planner'. He opened a browser window and got the address of the place and entered it into Trip Planner as the destination and clicked on 'present location' as the starting address.
Biggy had offered to pay the extra small fee for the second person if he would share his room for a few hours, up to eight hours, and drive him back home if the last bus had already left or pay for an Uber to get him home. The guy was generous too, he thought.
They met on the steps of a local sauna for men at seven p.m. Biggy paid for a room with a video monitor, they both received a clean towel and a room key. Biggy had brought some supplies including for prep for Ted. He took Ted on a tour. Bathrooms, showers, hot tub, locker area, outdoor deck, play room, and other areas. Ted took the prep equipment and did his thing. When he came back Biggy was wrapped in a towel and shivering a little.
"I'm cold. Interested in a dip in the hot tub?"
"Lead the way, Nimrod."
"It ain't numb or Nim or whatever... "
"I'll bet it isn't, too. If the hot tub doesn't warm you up, I can think of some other ways to raise your temperature, nurse."
"I'll just bet you can, too."
"Let's take a shower before we tub it, bro." After a long warm shower and plenty of soap in plenty of places and a little grab-ass, they soaked in the tub for twenty minutes or so. There was a video monitor high on the wall to watch while they soaked showing men having a good time, demonstrating the possibilities anyway."
Biggy and Ted noted a whole crowd of men in the tub that night, each and every one trying not to be noticed to be searching for what they had heard was in the hot tub that night. When Biggy stood for a minute to cool down, there was a collective gasp and more than one man exhaled forcefully and groaned.
Biggy just stretched and grasped himself and vamped a little. Ted grinned inside, knowing Biggy's act to be just that, an act to raise the temperature in the room. Successfully.
They went back to their room then and Biggy held out his arms to Ted. Ted melted into those arms and thought he might kiss Biggy. He came closer and stopped. Biggy's face was serious.
"There's something I have to say, Ted. You'd think that with the equipment came this loose thing where I let everybody have their way with me and that I'd do any hole that would fit. That's not me. I have to feel more than a stiff cock to have meaningful sex with someone."
"It doesn't happen very often. I don't want someone to be wanting me or grateful to me for the thing that dangles between my legs and is there whether I wanted it or not."
"I'm looking for a guy who likes me for me. I work and I'm a busy guy and haven't thought much about commitments but I'm sure there's someone out there that has had that internal discussion and wants more than a quick fuck. I'm more than a nurse."
"I was a chef before going to nursing school and I love to cook. I like to draw, although I could use lessons. I like to travel, though time and money are issues. A chunk of my income goes to housing and there's not a lot left, especially in the Portland housing market."
Ted thought about what Biggy had just said and a light went on inside. "The household where I'm working is made up of four adult men, not related except one man is the biological father of one of the younger men. I'm the maid. Yeah, that's my official title. They decided not to hire a 'houseboy'."
"They are looking for a cook and grocery shopper. One of the perks is great rooms attached to the mansion as servant's quarters originally, now staff quarters. They pay really well. The benefits are out of this world. They travel and have been talking about taking the staff with them."
"Now I'm afraid you won't want to make love. Will you think I'm wanting to get close to you for a job?"
"Either way, I want you, Biggy. I like honest guys, real people. I hope I'm that way. Whether you apply for the job or not, I haven't been with anyone, skin to skin, for such a long time that I'm not sure I'll remember how. If you do apply, my opinion means little and they will do the hiring, not me."
"Now if you're through emoting, take me, Biggy, please."
"Gentlemen don't beg...on the other hand, gentlemen don't refuse ice cream in a bowl when it's handed to them, either," said Biggy, as he reached to draw Ted into his arms.