REJOINING SCHUYLER - Chapter 3
Jack Jr., Joe, Ben, and Eric
Gay Erotic Fiction
by Simon Mohr
I included nothing intended to resemble any person living or otherwise in this work of fiction. It is for adults. If this material is illegal where you live or you are a minor, please do not read it. Please donate to the Nifty Archive using the donor information on this site.
That appointment with the therapist was on Thursday. Jack Jr. opened his eyes at nine a.m. on Friday morning, hearing a knock on his suite door. He threw on a robe, opened the door, and took one look at the footman, Ben, who had knocked. He looked past Ben, who had an apologetic look on his face. "I'm sorry, sir, but he insisted . . ."
Jack looked past the footman to a man with a badge on his coat, took one look at his face, and screamed, "Eric! Where the fuck have you been?"
Jack drew back and tried to punch the policeman, who calmly caught Jack's fist in mid-air.
"Are you sure you want to hit a detective working on your case?" Joe smiled politely and let Jack's hand drop.
"Where the fuck have you been? What's with the uniform?"
Joe rolled his eyes. "My name is Joe Kelly, a detective on the Cambridge Police Department. The Chief of Police asked me to come down here today to ask you some questions and return something to you."
Jack looked skeptical. "Come in, I guess."
By that time, the Chief of Schuyler Security and a deputy were at the door. Jack had no idea who asked them up. The Chief asked to see some ID from the policeman. The Chief looked at Jack.
"He's legitimate unless he stole the badge. I've seen badges from Cambridge, and this is OK. We'll be right outside in the hall, Jack."
Once inside, Jack kept insisting that Joe looked like his runaway roommate, Eric Boles."
"How so?" asked Joe. "How do I resemble him?"
"Same eyes, same hair color, same chin, same dimple, same skin coloring, the same ears, your voice close, and that little red pencil mark just above your Adam's apple. . . Are you sure you aren't Eric? I think I'm going nuts here."
Jack thanked the footman and motioned Joe inside the suite. "I'm about ready to take a shower, shouldn't take a minute or two. Eric had another distinguishing feature visible in the shower. Are you up for a shower with me? I know this is a little sudden since we've just met."
"Do I have a sign on my forehead that says, 'I'm gay?'" Joe looked distressed.
"No, but Eric didn't either."
"Don't flatter me. I'm on the police force."
Jack smiled grimly. "Fine, just undress, and I'll show you the distinguishing mark."
Joe slowly, carefully, even casually, took off his uniform, taking great care to fold it properly over a chair to prevent wrinkles.
"Well," said Jack, "the 'neat' test doesn't match. But the cock is the same size, maybe bigger." Jack knelt in the shower. "I need to check between your balls and your, um, hole. Oh my God!"
Jack's hand brought up Joe's sac to expose Joe's 'taint.' "This perineal body is the same as Eric's. It is bigger than some and has a round red birthmark on it. I don't understand . . .here, let's see. Maybe your cock does the same thing he does."
Jack's tongue and mouth and tears, then, were all over Joe's cock and balls and taint, even lower at times. He took in Joe's cock while Joe tried to think of the name of his mother's old vacuum. The only words he could think of at the moment were electric and luxury. No. The vacuum seemed to have a ten-horsepower suction on it, though, not like some newer brands. When that thing grabbed you, you knew you were grabbed.
"Oh my God," Joe said aloud. "I know one bond you had with your missing roommate."
With that, he came in Jack's mouth and throat with body spasms, thrusting, and a tiny kitten sound. "Meow."
"Oh my God," yelled Jack. "You taste exactly like him." Jack began to cry. "He meows too. Just once when he comes."
"OK," said the detective, "I think we've established that I remind you of this Eric guy."
"Hell yes you do," cried Jack. "Yours tastes a little sweeter than his, but I'm not complaining. Can you stay over and eat with me during the interrogation? You can stay and eat here for free, and I'll ask the Schuyler jet fleet to take you to Boston whenever you need to be back. I want to know you better, although we've made a solid start in that direction already, and I don't mind answering whatever questions you have for me each day as long as one of them relates to how long it will take me to take my clothes off."
"If that's an official invitation, who am I to refuse?"
After dinner in the salon, a splendid meal served by footmen, Jack and Joe retired to Jack's suite for questions.
"Did you know, Jack, that your detail left this bee behind in the straw? I wanted to return it to you."
"Thank you."
"Does your security team have any other data or access to cameras or other video or still image data?"
"Yes, we have a supercomputer in Pennsylvania with terabytes of data suitable for 'mining' including satellite images both still and video. You are welcome to program any query into any subset of the data you wish. Run it on any computer, including ours. That computer can talk to databases across the world that I don't know exist, and if it cannot, it can figure out how to access it somehow. We hired the world's best hackers, and they taught it how."
Joe opened his laptop and asked the computer to look at every page around Cambridge that showed Eric's picture. Three minutes later, thousands of images and videos of Eric popped up for the computer to survey. Joe then asked the computer to find any photo of Eric and a house. None showed. Then he asked for a photo of Eric and a car. Five images of Eric had a vehicle in the same picture. The same vehicle in three showed a portion of a blue Toyota Corolla's back half was present, but no license plate.
"OK, we're looking for a blue Corolla around Massachusetts with out of state plates in the last two weeks. It would have had Massachusetts plates in Massachusetts. Boston and Cambridge's police are very alert for out-of-state plates, more so than no plates at all, oddly."
"What can you tell me about your roommate's family?"
Jack told Joe that Eric's parents were alive. "Eric inherited wealth from his grandfather, Darren, who once lived in this museum, one of a throuple (a trio) of men who loved each other and were physical lovers. The Schuyler Trust office could help you with last names and perhaps addresses. Eric's net worth is somewhere north of $50 million."
Joe processed all that. "I'll speak to the Trust tomorrow. Jack, doesn't it seem odd to you that I remind you of Eric in so many ways?"
"It's unusual and coincidental, I guess."
Joe didn't believe in coincidences as a first solution when searching for answers. He was a detective, a well-trained cop who checked the facts first.
He knew that the sky was blue in Montana and Georgia. Those were the result of accepted facts, not coincidence, with human perception of color being constant in the species since the DNA code varied among humans only slightly and the visible spectrum of light having different colors. These measurable facts were identical around the world.
Those colors were named and taught to people from birth; people accepted those names in their language (the sky wasn't blue in China, it was Làn Sé in Mandarin. When non-English speakers learned English, they discovered that the word reliably accepted by schoolchildren and grandparents alike was 'blue.' Nearly all English speakers agree that the sky is blue, except for the clouds, during daylight hours. Most importantly, the atmosphere allowed specific wavelengths of light to reach human eyes at certain times of the day. The atmosphere was nearly identical around the globe.
If one took that circle of facts, one would have to conclude that the sky is blue, in English anyway, everywhere in the US at least; some referred to 'blue' as azure or cerulean, but when pressed, most would say 'blue.'
Although some movies and politicians presented alternative facts that stimulated discussion, facts were facts.
Joe obsessed with facts; his detective skills benefitted.
Jack was lost already. "I'll give you $1 million if you find him." Jack thought he'd speed up or encourage the process by the offer.
Joe must have looked at him with some skepticism. "You'd have to have it to give it."
Jack wondered if Joe might be bargaining; Jack said, "OK, $50 million."
Joe had known a fair number of con artists so far in his career, and either this guy had that much to give or he, Joe Kelly, was the Statue of Liberty. His face flushed. For a moment, he saw dollar signs, then his alert mind switched back to Jack's cock in his ass, working to make him, or was it, Eric, happy.
"Sorry, bud, I don't take tips or get rewards—Cambridge police department policy." Joe wasn't sure why Jack spoke the offer of money out loud; he wasn't sure if he should be offended or whether the offer was only a reflection of Jack's thinking processes.
Joe asked the computer to look at cameras all around Boston. The blue Toyota had North Carolina plates somewhere downtown. Somewhere from an interstate tower in southern Massachusetts, a blue Toyota Corolla sped by, but not before the tower's camera snapped a Florida license plant. Both plates were valid. Joe entered the appropriate codes for a getaway vehicle on I-95 south and an approximate location.
Police dispatchers sent cruisers, but Daryl had another trick. Early in the morning, he'd driven into a small town and played country boy at an autobody shop after breakfast, allowing as to how he had wanted a yellow Corolla for the longest time along with new chrome and tinted windows. The dealer needed the cash to buy time with his favorite 'lady' over at Madam's Shine Parlor, an hours-worth.
The rest of the exorbitant last-minute fees would keep his wife and employees happy. He had seen urgent paint jobs before once or twice, didn't believe Daryl's story, but kept his mouth closed and told Daryl to drive it inside.
A yellow Toyota Corolla with new chrome and tinted windows, not to mention a valid Louisiana license plate set, rolled out the front door an hour and a half later. The dealer was happy to keep the incident to himself when Daryl offered him a few hundred bucks extra.
Over bacon and scrambled eggs at the museum, Joe tried to make sense of the feelings his ass was broadcasting to him. He wanted more. Joe wasn't sure the moment had arrived to ask for more. Perhaps he would just die first. Joe knew his ass was in love. He thought his central brain might be interested too.
"I need to work out of here until you find Eric," he said after a pause to think.
Jack wasn't slow or stupid. "Why don't we get Cambridge to give you a leave of absence. If the Chief finds out that the Schuyler family has pre-paid his daughter's college tuition, he might look favorably at your leave of absence."
"Right. Where does that money come from, Jack?"
"You're going to find out soon, so I'll not keep you waiting. My mom was the first woman President of the United States. Her brother was one of the beneficiaries, read 'owners,' of the Schuyler Fortune. The family trust is worth many billions, possibly trillions, more than many small countries. We could never spend all the interest and dividends if we spent as hard as we could, so we don't try."
"Because my mom was family, I am, and I have access to the Gulfstreams and their hunky pilots, the fortune, the art and gems (which we rarely sell), and we stay out of the limelight for safety and business reasons."
"It's complicated, but my grandmother had an intense beef with a chunk of the New York mob years ago, and they might have asked a Boston colleague to return the favor. I'll give you a tour of our basements later."
Joe decided to pass on any comment.
"You could work here. Your pay is five times what you get now and triple the benefits. Free everything. Plus, just since you are a sexy hunk and like me too and need a place to sleep, you can have your suite for your things, a hiding place or office, and at night if you so choose, you may knock on my door and, excuse the phrase, I'll proceed to knock on your door, if you get my drift, for lust, comfort, and exercise."
Jack was in his mother's old convincing mode. "Also, you would have free access to the jets anytime to anywhere on the planet. Does any of that tempt you to take a sabbatical?"
"Since you'll be my main man, the footman you choose from a shortlist will get higher pay and status. Some of the footmen provide, um, benefits; others do not. All of them are good at how to live and survive in this house, you know, the protocol, the valet thing, the security staff, the rules, the procedures for emergencies, all of it."
"May I have some time to think about it, like a second?"
"There, I've thought about it. Yes, please." Joe accepted Jack's offer.
Eric and Daryl arrived in Texas three days later, driving long hours in the evening and night. They holed up during the day in out of the way rural areas usually.
From San Antonio, they found Highway I-10 to Seguin, then turned on State Highway 130 toward Lockhart, home of Smitty's Market, Kreuz Market, and Black's Barbecue, destination barbecue palaces of legend.
This city laid about two hours from Waco (given a following wind and enough gas), defined Texas hill country. No one would notice a cowboy on three hundred acres out in back except in the bunkhouse, and those guys were taciturn, not prone to gossip. Cowboys were continually coming and going on some ranches, moving on to better or worse pastures and employers. Even though Eric owned this one, he'd never been there. He conveniently omitted his last name, and his cowboys didn't know him from Adam.
Within a week, Eric's fellow cowboys had forgotten the new guy who didn't know his ass from a hole in the ground, didn't know how to speak 'cowboy,' didn't know horses, didn't have a girlfriend, looked sad all the time, and certainly couldn't ride a horse, although they gave him marks for learning fast.
Eric had vanished. He thought.
Joe and Jack cemented their physical relationship for several weeks. Neither found the slightest fault with being inside each other, getting to know each other's foibles and strengths, the pleasure of intimacy with a like-minded man. The footmen they chose had little extra to do as they were barred from Jack's suite at certain times or thought they were. One of the footmen had an experience he was not eager to share with his fellow footmen.
He had knocked an hour after supper. Hearing no answer, Ben entered the suite to find Jack plowing Joe's field. Slightly embarrassed and all the way turned on, Ben, the footman, excused himself only to hear Joe's voice. "Hey Ben, come on back. Bring your cute ass over here and play. Jack was too close to orgasm to argue, so the footman stripped. The men formed a sexual sandwich, Ben sucking Joe's lollipop and Jack slamming in and out of Ben. The three showered afterward, an epic occasion.
It was a one-off experience, Ben thought, but one that he wouldn't and didn't forget. Ben decided to do that again in a heartbeat if asked. He wasn't sure his job would survive if he initiated something, however, so he didn't say or start anything. At 5' 10" and one-hundred-fifty pounds, Ben was trim with a swimmer's build; at age twenty-five, his libido and energy resources were such that he could make love every way but round and round.
A week later, Jack called Ben to the suite. Ben entered to find Joe and Jack in the shower, soaping up. "Hey Ben, we loved last week and would like to know if you want to play with us again? If you do, jump in with us."
Ben wanted to play. He was naked in a flash. This time Joe was the filling in the sandwich. Ben rubbed his hard cock in Joe's crack, applied the slippery stuff, and wrapped up. Ben slid into Joe, taking him slow at first. When Joe nodded, leaning his head back on Ben's muscled neck, Ben began to rabbit-fuck the policeman. Ben's only distraction was one of Jack's hands reaching between Joe's legs and tenderly holding Ben's boys as Ben's cock slammed in and out of Joe. Jack's other hand reached around and supported Ben's lower back, stroking it. The sensations, both acute and thrilling, brought Ben to a quicker finish.
During a routine check-in telephone call to his mother one day, Joe Kelly asked her straight out if he was her only child. The question surprised even Joe himself, who hadn't been eager to know particularly. The question arrived during an innocuous conversation somewhere on the level of 'how's the weather out there, mom?' His detective's mind sensed a slight hesitation and an unusually bright and strident response.
"Well, of course, honey, uh, why ever would you ask that question?" Joe thought a simple 'No honey, you're it.' would have sufficed. He shelved the issue and filed it in the 'think about it tomorrow' bin in his head. Joe cleaned out that bin every morning at six a.m.
He had not skipped one day of 'bin-cleaning' since getting the one 'B' grade in the police academy class. He wanted straight 'A' grades and supremely disappointed that he hadn't checked out that last idea before the test; he vowed at the time to change to the daily morning 'bin' check.
Eric's last name proved easy to verify, and his parent's name and address Joe learned from accounting at the college. The supercomputer pulled up a list of the Bole's family real properties. Two work-filled weeks later, Joe sat down with Jack in their suite.
"Jack," began Joe, "do you trust me?"
"Sure. What's up?"
"I need to take you somewhere on your Gulfstream tomorrow and do some detective work. I need you to wear faded jeans, scuffed cowboy boots, take a cowboy hat, preferably scuffed a little, a plaid shirt with a mended hole in it, a pocket in the shirt, and an opened pack of Marlboro cigarettes in the pocket. Pepsodent is OK. No cologne. Uber masculine, Jack."
Jack Jr.'s eyes squinted a little. "Like this? The eye-squint thing?"
"You're catching on, Jack. You need to pass for a cowboy. I don't suppose you ride?"
"Never had the pleasure of riding a horse. The only riding I've done is . . ."
"I'm aware of whom you've ridden, Jack."
Jack chuckled. "Guess you would know. Ask Ben to plan on it right now; tell him exactly what you need him to put together. He can call the travel office for the jet slot and arrange the clothes and accessories for the three of us."
"The three of us?"
Joe's raised eyebrow alerted Jack to the significance of the question for Joe. "He goes with me everywhere for assistance. Ben's job isn't for fornication purposes, Joe. Assisting me was Ben's job. He was hired and got paid for that part of what he is, er, does to and for me. Now, his job is to assist you also. If you died tomorrow, God forbid, I'd want Ben to be up to speed and on my side. So now is the time to tell you, I think."
"When the beneficiary last changed the Schuyler Trust documents in Pennsylvania, the state where the Trust first formed and got registered, the legal documents updated the process of succession of beneficiaries (the owners of the fortune). My maternal grandmother Carol inherited from her father, who formed the Trust. Carol's son, Michael, succeeded, then Eric, his adopted son, then Joseph, Eric's twin brother Loren's son. A series of non-blood-related persons succeeded. The Trust documents sorted out which relatives have free-spending access to the unbelievably vast Schuyler fortune."
"As it turned out, blood relatives of Carol Schuyler and their descendants may access. This right includes their children and their spouses forever or until the documents change again. When you marry me, you will have access to that fortune, Joe. Unlimited for life, and none of it has to go back to the Trust if I die or when you die. The Trust documents state that if I die before you do, any adopted children we may have share access, and their families' access stops with their death."
"I have access through my mother to Carol. You will have it, being my spouse, if you say 'yes.' Joe, will you marry me? I love you. I love who you are and how you operate. I know a lot about you, and I want to be close to you until I die someday."
Joe just looked at Jack, his mouth frowning, his eyes wide open, holding his breath. "How long do I have to think about it." Then he burst out laughing. "Of course, I mean, yes, I'll marry you, Jack, but not until after we solve the case. I can't concentrate on a wedding and a hot case at the same time."
"All that," said Jack, "to emphasize that Ben, our other lover, is our assistant, not just mine."
"Are you saying you want to continue to love and play with Ben?"
"I am. It's a Schuyler tradition and fun, too. We get to practice our sexual activities together and share the love together."
"Do you have any other candidates for our little group, Jack?" Joe wanted to pin this down a little.
"Not at the moment. If we both agree to love another, I'm open to the conversation, however."
Jack and Joe entered a Schuyler helicopter on the museum's roof, one of the new VTOL electric models, quiet, quick, and nearly noiseless.
The trip to Teterboro Airport in New Jersey took only a few minutes. Joe and Jack entered the Schuyler hangar where Joe first saw the shiny private jet, tried not to fall in love with it, and failed.
"Nice trinket you have here."
"Joe, meet Peach. Peach, meet Joe, my fiancé."
"I assume this thing travels fast?"
"Yep—Peach is getting older but still flies in style with food served on order and sex in back with a shower afterward if desired. We will replace her with a G-700 one of these days. It has even more range and comfort."
"Damn. I always wondered how the other 1% lived."
"Get used to it, lover. The jet is now our secret harbor for a few hours."
Ben came up the aisle from the back where he had been hanging clothes. "Good to see you two safely on board."
"Ben," said Jack, "I hope you've reserved some downtime during our flight."
"Oh," Ben lit up, "before lunch or after?"
"Well, my fiancé and I have an open flight schedule. We could appreciate you anytime."
"Seriously?" Ben broke out in a grin. "Are you kidding? That's so cool. Hey, wait a minute, should I feel dumped or anything?"
"We talked about you. We hope that you will want to continue if you get my drift." Jack was emphatic.
Joe reached over and palmed Jack's groin. His other hand reached over to Ben's crotch and rubbed the bulge there. "We both want you, man. You. your bits, and your sweet self also."
Jack stood up and kissed Ben. "You do know that you may refuse, and nothing about your job will change, don't you? If in the future you decide that enough is enough, no consequences accrue. None. Guaranteed. I'll have an attorney at the Trust put that in writing for all three of us. Marriage isn't legal for three now, but nothing says we can't love each other emotionally and physically."
"Your cowboy stuff is on board, and after, well, afterward, I'll help you two put them on your sexy bodies."
The flight attendant came back from the galley. "I loaded our frozen entrees from our regular catering service. Our menu today will include Italian, Mexican and Indian food. I have a choice of mixed drinks and will bring you a drink menu."
"The dessert menu includes a couple of kinds of pie, apple and cherry, Ben and Jerry's ice cream, cherry and chocolate. or brownies if you prefer. The entertainment system is up and running as usual; also, dozens of music channels and a wide choice of videos. We have broadband Internet too. The password is 'Schuyler.'
Jack told him that the three of them would be having a do-not-disturb conference in the back before lunch, and they would be hungry at about one p.m. All three placed their entree orders and headed toward the rear of the jet. The take-off was smooth; the Gulfstream leveled off at 41,000 feet for San Antonio.
The clothes came off quickly in the back, and the men formed a horizontal ring, happy to be nursing one of their favorite objects. The bed was sturdy. Joe thought his cock would explode before he had a chance to do his new fiancé, but Jack laid on his back and put his feet on Joe's shoulders quickly. Joe didn't stop for niceties. He shoved right in, and Ben's eyes opened wide.
Soon Jack sat up on Joe, happily still impaled, Ben standing over Joe, Jack still nursing on Ben.
Soon Joe pulled Ben over on his back, so that Ben lay flat on Joe's abdomen, then entered Ben. Joe pulled Ben's legs back to show Ben to Jack. Jack, sexually excited beyond his dreams, also inserted his cock into Ben just above Joe's swollen, hard dick.
The double penetration hurt Ben for a few short minutes before Ben's ass relaxed enough to enjoy the stretching. Jack and Joe liked the friction, the closeness, and the shared task. They both came together, noting the sudden slippery change inside Ben together. Ben leaned up and kissed Jack.
"Thank you for sharing, Jack. Love you, man. Then Ben, now empty, turned over, flashing his fabulous ass at Jack and kissed Joe.
"Thank you, Joe. I'm the luckiest footman in Manhattan. My ass is yours whenever you and Jack want it. It's carte blanche for you studs."
"Yeah, you scamp. I love you, too, Ben. Jack and I are a primary couple, and we both love you too. We hope you learn to love us as we care for each other."
All three barely made it into the small shower, but none minded the togetherness, and everybody's back, and bits got soaped down, rinsed, and toweled dry by their combined efforts.
The men finished lunch quickly and felt the descent into San Antonio. A faded, almost decrepit appearing Ford F-150 rented from an agency for the next two weeks met them. The three men, dressed as cowboys, slid into the pickup.
Their security detail followed a bit behind in another similar pickup with all kinds of weapons under a tarp in the pickup's bed.
Joe drove the pickup northeast to Seguin on I-10, then continued north to Lockhart on State Highway 130, repeating Daryl and Eric's trip a few weeks earlier. They stopped in a motel on the outskirts of Lockhart. After settling in, the men went out for supper.
At Smitty's Market, they gorged on prime rib. Afterward, they found a gay-friendly bar and swaggered in, remembering to check their hats at the entrance. They found a table and began to enjoy beers.
"Ladies, queens, and gentle or rough men: Tonight, we've got eye candy from the Boles ranch here at our special sweet table by the stage. Give me a hand for the handsome bucks from the Bole's ranch!" The announcer was trying to channel Mae West without a lot of success in a Texan accent. Jack and Joe stiffened and looked at each other, then the table. They saw no one they knew or recognized. The men at the front table were good-looking for sure, but not familiar."
Later that night, Jack, Joe, and Ben talked about how unusual it was that the ranch had the same name as Jack's missing roommate's adopted name. "The list of his adopted family's real property included this ranch," said Joe. "I wonder if our missing man is holed up here. Only time and a drone will tell, I guess."
The next day, a drone camera at four hundred feet spotted a lone cowboy riding below the drone on the Boles ranch's back acreage. They couldn't see his face clearly because of his cowboy hat.
"Someone's going to have to go scout out the back, Joe. Let's you and I ride out there tomorrow. There's plenty of work for Ben here at the motel. Ben, you will guide the drone and talk us up to the cowboy out in the back acres."
"Sounds like a plan, boss."
Using Jack's credit card to rent a couple of magnificent stallions certified as reasonable friendly by the next-door neighbor, Jack and Joe rode out the next morning, into the driveway of the Boles ranch. They met the foreman out in back by the bunkhouse, looking a little worse for the wear from the bar festivities the night before. "We came to look for a missing steer from next door." The foreman waved them on. His tired brain forgot that the neighbor had sheep, not cattle.
Jack and Joe rode to the back of the ranch. Ben monitored by a link to their motel with the drone's help and called to their earphones. Ben could see the lone cowboy and Jack and Joe in the drone camera's viewpoint, and it was easy to direct them toward their target.
A half-mile from the cowboy, they spotted him. Ben tried to keep them out of the cowboy's sight for as long as possible. Closer in, the cowboy spotted them and tried to ignore them. Eric didn't know Joe, especially in dark glasses. He knew Jack, but since he didn't expect him there and had never seen him in cowboy clothes and dark glasses, he didn't recognize him. "Hi, y'all."
Joe called to Eric, who responded, "Hi, y'all."
"We're looking for a steer from next door. Seen any extra stock today?"
"You guys are the first sign of humans I've seen today. I haven't seen you guys in this neck of the woods before."
"We're looking for a particular one. Would you mind looking at this picture?"
Eric reached for the paper and saw no steer but a blank piece of paper.
Jack couldn't hold it in. "Eric, where the hell have you been, and why did you leave?"
Jack took off his dark glasses.
"Oh God! Jack?"
Joe thought the voice sounded familiar but knew he didn't recognize this guy. As Eric ripped off his glasses, Joe froze. What he saw in the mirror every morning was sitting on a horse in front of him. He swallowed just as Eric looked at him and had the identical reaction. "Who the hell . . .?"
"If I didn't know better," said Joe, "I'd say we were brothers. I'm adopted and never met my family."
"Oh, my God . . . that explains it. My aunt Mae and my mom talked in the front room when I was little, and I remember them talking about the other baby. Mae said to my mom that my mom had done the right thing and I didn't understand what . . ."
Jack began to wail, startling his horse a little. "There's two of you? Twins? How am I supposed to love two of you? Oh, I'm sorry, I can love two of you easy. I didn't mean that as it sounded. Joe knows that you are my lover, Eric, and since you left abruptly, he was the detective on the case, and we got to know each other. I love him. I love you, and together we love Ben, my footman."
"Wait a minute, Jack." Eric's striking and amused face wore a grin from one ear to the other. "Are you telling me I have a brother and a lover? Which one of you is going to be on my side?"
"I will," came out of Joe and Jack's mouth at the same time.
"I'll be on your side because brothers do that," said Joe.
"What's your name?" Joe wanted to know.
"Eric Boles. The Boles family adopted me or said they did. I never saw the paperwork. Maybe they just took me. They had other kids after I arrived at their house. They are all younger than me."
The idea went into Joe's 'tomorrow morning' bin to check out tonight, not in the morning. Was there an unsolved kidnapping somewhere of a twin boy infant? Could Eric have been targeted for his family's wealth with the Boles family expecting a sweet ransom, then kept quietly to avoid penalties? For some other reason? Did they get the ransom and keep the baby anyway, hoping for more later?
Detective Joe's mind was in full swing now.
Jack spoke to Eric. "Can you come with us? Are you through for the day after you get down of that nag and get the hug you've missed, buddy?"
Eric was off his horse in a flash. Jack and Eric had their hands on each other like they would never let go. Joe dismounted. "Hey, I just dismounted. What do I have to do to get a hug here?"
For the first time since the womb, Eric and Joe were in each other's arms, slated to be brothers.
"Can you come back to the motel with us," asked Jack.
"I own this ranch. I guess I can leave it when I damn well want. Let me tell the foreman."
They rode back out front to the bunkhouse and soon were in the pickup; the stallions returned to the neighbor. The atmosphere in the pickup was a little awkward.
Jack and Eric sat together while Joe drove to the motel. They weren't commenting much except the weather. Joe was still engrossed in Eric's story and what it meant for Eric's 'adopted' family and why he cared if it meant anything.
Jack tried to figure out which brother to pick on and which brother he should fuck. Then they reached the motel.
The motel door opened, and Ben stood there quietly. Ben's eyes locked on to Eric's eyes and didn't move except to flicker for a moment to Joe and then back again. "Come inside the mansion," Ben said. "I've got drinks, ice, and me."
Some say that a good footman anticipates needs. Others, in some circles, say that a great footman provides what is needed when it is required.
Ben took off his clothes in the bathroom as the others began to drink their beer. After a few minutes, Ben came out and headed for Eric, walked naked right up to him, and pulled Eric to his nozzle. "Here, baby, you have to be thirsty after an afternoon on the back three hundred acres under the hot sun." Eric didn't glance away.
"Suck me hard, baby. Show me how you missed Jack." Eric began to sob. He shook, but he sucked on Ben's hard tool as if he would never let go. Jack and Joe began to shed their clothes, and soon they were naked on one of the beds, marking their partnership in front of Ben and Eric. At some point, Eric looked at Jack and his brother. Eric smiled and pulled Ben down to him.
"Ben, I want you. I want you to come inside of me, to take my ass. Do it, please?"
Ben was eager to help out Jack's ex-roommate. Ben's eagle rose, then landed right where Eric needed it, filling Eric with exciting, warm, slippery magic, which then dribbled out and away like Eric's troubles before they both crashed into sleep.
Jack and Joe had fired their bullets a bit later. Jack filled Joe with the same magic, lifting Joe up and out and away from really hot to a fiery close.
They both felt as close to each other as they had ever been, not able with accuracy to tell where one was and the other began. Jack's cock while inside Joe had become a part of Joe's body; Joe couldn't tell their structural differences at his passion's height while most of his rational thought lay suspended high over him like some giant hill. Joe thought he 'saw stars' and then realized he literally saw them through the skylight in the motel's roof.
Like icing on the cake, he had a brother. A twin looked like him, was gay like him, got fucked like him, talked like him, and appreciated Ben. Those thoughts mingled, and Joe fell asleep, not to wake until six a.m. for some 'bin' time.
The Gulfstream landed back in Teterboro the next day, Ben sitting in Eric's lap for most of the trip. Ben got up from time to time and conducted 'business' on Joe's lap, then Jack's lap, all laps having open zippers, hard cocks, and slippery jizz when he moved on finally back to Eric. All four men looked spent when they landed.
The twin's mother took one look at the two the next day and burst into tears when Jack knocked on the door. "Oh God, I never thought I would see you again, holding Eric's face. Where have you been, son? How are you?"
"My adopted name is Eric Boles, mom. Joe and I just met and figured out we were brothers. This man is Jack Schuyler, and he brought us together."
The twin's mother grasped Jack in her arms. "I owe you, big-time."
Then she turned with menace in her voice. "There was a nurse, Norma Boles, a nursery nurse when I had you two. When we got the ransom note, she had told us not to involve the police or she would kill you. I got the money together and left it where she said to leave it. When I went to the park where she said you would be, you weren't there. She disappeared from her hospital work. They never saw her again."
"Yes, my so-called 'adopted' mother is Normal Boles." Eric's face was a study.
Joe's face was impassive. He'd thought of this possibility but hoped it wasn't a real thing.
Eric thought of all the times people had said that he didn't look like his brothers and sisters.
Jack told them they would be visiting Mrs. Boles the next day. Joe looked at him and told him, "No, Jack, we won't. As a Cambridge police officer, I can communicate to prosecutors properly so that she can be apprehended and prosecuted so it will stick. This matter is too important for mistakes in the process that might reward Mrs. Boles." Eric began to cry.
"So how did that bequest from my grandfather reach me?"
"I'm pretty sure I know the answer to that one," replied Joe. "I would be willing to bet that your dear father was the private investigator in the firm that your biological mother hired to find you."
"He found both you and Norma. He blackmailed her and married her. He knew about the bequest of fifty million dollars and made sure it found you, thinking it would somehow come in handy for him and Norma one day."
"Your "adopted' mother, Norma, probably knew part of the story by then, but her husband must have ensured that she didn't know it all, having some conscience and a tender heart for his new 'son.' That probably saved your cute ass. Norma must have told him he had twin sons at some point, and he may have wanted to limit their criminal liability to one kidnapping, as uncomfortable that must have been."
"Joe! Language," said his biological mother.
Joe continued, "Mr. Boles let Eric know at some point about the inheritance. I'm wondering if Darren split the inheritance. Even worse, Mr. Boles might have known there was additional money from your grandfather that he didn't tell anyone about." Joe was on a roll.
"Policemen," scoffed Betty, his biological mother, "always thinking the worst of people."
"If we didn't, Joe replied quietly to his mother, "a lot of the worst would go unpunished."
"Your departed father, a day before he disappeared during my pregnancy with you two boys, told me he was gay and didn't love me anymore. It didn't particularly bother me because we'd fallen out of love much earlier, and there were ten thousand indications that he was cheating on me. Late at the office, mysterious telephone calls, unfamiliar cologne on his sweater, trips to the doctor for treatment of infections he couldn't explain, buying presents for someone (not me or him) at Sears in the tool department. I already had his number."
Betty went on. "I see both of you have a lover. I'm not blind, and I'm happy for both of you. I suspected you, Joe, long ago. Sometimes when guys love color and fashion and crystal and cry at movies and hate sports and are tender-hearted, it doesn't mean anything. Then again, sometimes it speaks to a direction and a preference that only time will reveal. If you are happy, I am. I love you both and always will, and that's the end of it."
Two weeks later, Joe had the answer.
Jack and Joe lay quietly in Joe's suite, this time after an hour of physical bliss. "I found out what happened to the money meant for me. I found out that Grandpa Darren left a copy of his will with the Schuyler Trust offices. I can't imagine how I missed asking them before now. My grandfather left $50 million for each grandson that might come along. I think that Eric's adopted dad was his real dad as well as mine.
"After the prosecution, we'll have the accounting of Darren's estate and petition the court to make certain that whatever institution is 'growing and watering' the estate funds divides it between to you two," said Jack. The Schuyler family has a fund manager in New York and owns the Schuyler Bank. The return on invested funds consistently outperforms the Dow."
"You won't need my money anymore, Joe, if you ever did."
"I need you, lover. The money and the jets and all are nice, and as your spouse, I'm going to help you spend your money, but it's you that I need to be close and want in my ass. There is a reason I scream your name when I come, Jack."
"I want you to remember my name, the guy that needs and wants to thrill me when we fuck. I love it when you take my ass like it's yours. Your love for me is better than breath for my lungs. It's life for my soul." Joe blushed.
"Oh, and by the way, thank you for assigning a suite to Ben and Eric. I'll pay for a footman for us if Ben doesn't want to devote his life to Eric. He acts like he might." Joe was on a roll again.
"And by the way, Jack, can we invite my twin and Ben after supper for playtime in the pool and anything else that comes to mind? You've already fucked Eric and Ben both. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'd like a crack at Eric's cute butt. I guess it turns me on to think I'd be, sort of, fucking myself. Kinky, huh?"
"Not any more than me fucking the guy I love, Joe. That would be you, bud. You need to learn that it's OK to love your brother and his partner, too. The rest is just man-play, adequate exercise, good company, in great historical company with the Greek civilization, the Schuyler version naturally.
"The real question, Jack whispered, "is whether they will want to play with us. Not everyone wants to share their mate with others."