RON & BRYAN -4 The story below is a work of fiction. None of the events described happened, nor do any of the characters exist. The story contains erotic and/or sexually explicit behavior between consenting males. If you find this type of work offensive, or if you are underage and it is illegal for you to view this, do not read it, and please exit now.
Dedication: This story is dedicated to my special friend, Ry, who provided the inspiration for this, my first effort, and to Don Hanratty, the author of Working It Out, a beautiful piece of work (Nifty, college section), who encouraged me to post it here.
If you would like to comment or have suggestions, you may E-mail me at JETjt@aol.com. Please be kind! Ha!
RON AND BRYAN
Chapter Four
Ron had had a very busy mid-day. He made plans for later when Matt got off work, then, took a quick tour of the Chrysler Building, whose Art Deco style he admired. From there he was driven around Central Park in a hansom cab, enjoying the beauty of the park created in the middle of the forest of concrete and steel buildings. Returning to the hotel, he took a leisurely shower, shaved again, brushed his teeth, and donned casual clothing. At five minutes after three, he called Matt’s cellular phone number. When the young man answered, Ron identified himself and asked, if he was free for the rest of the afternoon and evening.
“Sure, I have no plans,” Matt responded.
“Great, I’ve planned an interesting time for us, and I want to make up for this morning.”
“I don’t remember anything that you did that you need to apologize for,”
“You’re wrong about that! I was so taken by your hot body and cute looks, that I didn’t treat you with the respect due to a real person, especially as one as nice as you. That is not to say that I didn’t enjoy the experience immensely, I did! I was just thinking with my gonads, not my brain. Maybe we could become friends too. I would like that!
“Well, I’d like that too, thanks Mr. Turner, I’m pleasantly surprised, and somewhat lost for words!”
“Forget the Mr. Turner stuff. My name is Ron and I’d be pleased if we could ‘can’ the formalities….How are you dressed?” Ron asked.
“I showered and changed out of my uniform at the hotel. They have nice employee facilities. I’m wearing a long sleeved, blue flannel shirt, and some navy Dockers trousers. I’m carrying a medium weight, blue jacket.”
“Perfect!” Ron responded, “Where are you?”
I was headed home. I’m now just three blocks north of the hotel main entrance, on the right side of the street.”
“Stay there. I’ll pick you up in the hotel limousine in ten minutes! Bye.” Ron called the desk and asked that the car be brought to the front doors, then, grabbing a warm jacket, headed for the elevator.
* * * *
The limousine pulled into the entrance to La Guardia, and headed for the bizjet terminal. Ron had kept silent about their destination, except to state that they would return in plenty of time for Matt to get a reasonable night’s rest before his early shift, on Monday, at the Waldorf. The car swung round at the circular drive and deposited the young men at the small terminal passenger doors. After being instructed to pick them up again at 10:45, Ron slipped a generous tip into the driver’s hand. Ron led the way through the terminal lobby and departed out the doors onto the tarmac, where rows of business jets were parked. . Heading toward a white and silver Grumman G-V aircraft, Matt followed, noting a “RET” emblazoned on the tail. The door was open, and the ramp was extended to the ground, awaiting their arrival. Ron strode up the steps, with his younger friend, almost hesitantly, trailing behind.
“Good afternoon gentlemen,” the steward said, sweeping his hand toward the luxurious cabin, “Please be seated. We are ready to depart.” Walking toward the rear, Ron approached two tan leather covered seats at mid cabin, then settling himself in one, he indicated the other for his guest.
“Where are you taking me?” asked Matt, with some trepidation.
“Once we’re in the air, I will tell all,” Ron responded, “then, if you don’t like the plan, I’ll order the plane to turn around and take us back! Deal?” he asked.
Agreeing hesitantly, the young man acquiesced. He had observed, during their short conversation, that the stairway had been retracted, the door closed and locked securely, and the engines were quietly starting their run-up. Soon the plane started to move down the taxiway. Minutes later, the luxury jet leapt into the sky, with its landing gear being retracted almost before the plane left the ground.
“Wow,” Matt exclaimed, “This is fabulous! What a trip!” Then grinning he said sheepishly, “sorry for the pun!” He continued apologetically, “Sorry, but I gotta ask. What’s the plan?”
Ron smiled, giving into to the question, asked by his cute date. “I thought we might get out of the City, and run up to Martha’s Vineyard for dinner! “
“Damn, that’s almost to Boston!”
“Yep, might even take us 30 or 40 minutes to get there! Reservations have already been made at a nice little seaside restaurant. You get served for a change. I hope you enjoy it!” The young men began an exchange of conversation that Ron felt would help them get to know each other better, something that the limited time together so far had precluded. The men glanced out the window occasionally as the aircraft flew at a reasonably low altitude, so that the passengers could view the beautiful scenery passing below. Around 4:30 the plane sat down on the fairly short runway of the picturesque island, with the pilot using thrust-reversers to slow the plane quickly.
Descending from the sleek bizjet, the young men were met by a taxi, which took them to a quaint inn, overlooking the ocean. Ron paid for the taxicab, then, upon entering the building and giving the his name to the older man in attendance. Ron and Matt were ushered out of a side door, where a beautiful black 1200 c.c. B.M.W. motorcycle was waiting, perched on its stand. “We’ll return about 7,” he informed his host. Then grabbing the handlebars and swinging his leg over the saddle, Ron rocked the bike down off its stand and indicated to Matt that he should get on behind him. The engine roared to life, and after they finished snapping on their helmets, the young men felt a different kind of power between their legs, as the bike made its big engine felt, as the cycle shot out of the parking lot and onto the roadway.
Mile after mile they traveled, taking in the gorgeous scenery. Great ocean vistas, tiny hamlets, and quaint cottages dotted the landscape. There were also some great estates, with imposing mansions, impressive grounds and wonderful views of the sea. These impressive structures and their surrounds, while carefully maintained, had been designed to blend in with the picturesque countryside and with their more modest neighbors. The young men were totally enjoying the experience while Matt made the enjoyment more personal, be keeping his arms wrapped snuggly around Ron’s chest. The wind blew at the young men’s shielded faces, and tore at their clothing, finally bringing a slight chill to their bodies as they completed their circular tour and returned to the place of their beginning. They dismounted the black beast that had given them so much pleasure, hugged each other, and entered the cozy restaurant.
The dinner was delightful and intimate. Ron was developing a fond appreciation for his new friend, who was struggling in his attempt to further his education, with no help from his parents. Matt related as to how his Dad, a hard working, hard drinking dockworker, had spurned, derisively, his son’s desire to continue in school. He refused the request for help, stating that, “those places were just full of fags and fairies who think that they are just too good for common, descent people.” It was obvious that the man was unaware of his son’s sexual orientation. Ron could not really relate to the pain the young man was feeling.
His had died in a horrible automobile accident, when he was a teen and before he had accepted the reality of his own sexual persuasion. He told Matt his story, of how he had spent his teen years, in the home of his kindly Aunt Martha, as his father buried himself in his business as anasthesia for his loss and only spent time with his son discussing business and pounding the eduction necessary into his son's head on how to expand on his father's success. The little love they shared when his mother was alive, disappeared. Ron became just an apprentice in the art of making money. Ron's father developed pancreatic cancer when Ron was a senior in college and was gone to join his love, within six months of the young man's graduation. His father’s burgeoning fortune had been left to Ron who, in respect for his father's wishes buried his young adulthood into increasing his assets. He related about his own time in College, and afterward, his success in carrying the torch of his father’s financial achievements, into the amassing of a great fortune. He confessed that the endless work in reaching toward the high monetary rewards, had left little time for developing a meaningful relationship with anyone, and that his experience, to date, was mostly “quickies”, only serving his immediate needs. He had become afraid of a developing a close bond with any potential partner, because of the fear within himself that he was personally unworthy, and that he was attractive to other guys only because of his position and wealth.
Ron had become almost a personal recluse. Except when he had social obligations relating to business, he remained at home most evenings. It was there, on the Internet that he met Br;yan. The young man had broken the shell surrounding Ron's persona, and the young businessman began to develope interests outside of his office. His education was certainly broad enough. He had graduated with an M.B.A from Harvard business school, but his undergraduate studies included a thorough and enjoyed introduction to the humanities and arts, which were taken, with much chagrin from his father, who thought those things were mostly a waste of time.
Time had passed quickly. The dessert hand been finally served and consumed after the beautifully presented, appetizers and other courses, had been attentively delivered and savored. Sated with the wonderful meal and the fine wines that had been included, Ron paid the check for both the gourmet dining and the afternoon excursion, leaving a more than generous gratuity for their hosts. Their taxi arrived shortly thereafter, and they climbed in, for their trip to the airport.
* * * *
With a thunder, the jet roared down the runway. The island quickly vanished in the night sky. Leveling off at a fairly low altitude, the aircraft headed west at a leisurely pace. Ron smiled at his young friend. They had taken, for the return trip, seats on the cabin’s sofa, which was placed parallel to the sides of the cabin, just aft of the seats they had used for the trip to Martha’s Vineyard. Once at cruising altitude, Ron unbuckles their seatbelts, turned and kissed his young guest warmly on the lips. Their lips parted. In moments, their compelling passions surfaced. Hot tongues battled, like two rapiers, but these swords were swords of desire, not pain. Moans of lust and pleasure, emanated from their vocal chords. Searching hands explored the contours of faces, and torsos. Traveling downward, eager fingers fondled the swollen tubes that were making the tight confines of their clothing uncomfortable. Unfastening, belts, buttons and zippers, these same digits, slid beneath those confining articles, and grasped the targets of their exploration.
Looking suddenly alarmed, Matt asked, “What about the crew? What if they come in?” Ron assured his lover, that the crew had been instructed to stay in the cockpit, or crew lounge in the front of the plane, giving them complete privacy. Ron pulled Matt to his feet, and began removing cushions from the sofa. Realizing suddenly that the sofa converted to a bed, Matt helped his new friend unfold the piece of furniture, to expose a light-weight blanket and sheets, already made up. Ron opened the door to an end table and extracted two pillows. “Wow, this is great”, the young man exclaimed as he sat on the edge of the sofa and began to remove his shoes. “Guess we’ll have to hurry a bit, though. It doesn’t take long to fly to La Guardia!”
“It takes a bit longer by way of Detroit!” Ron said laughingly. “You don’t think that I would let a little thing like time, spoil your initiation into the “Mile High Club”, do you?” Matt had never heard of the club, but Ron’s grin quickly lead down the path to total understanding.
Ron was the first one completely naked, and lay on the bed, back on the white sheets, legs spread, and feet pulled back to his thighs. The view of his equipment was the invitation that he offered to his partner. Now ready himself, and with his hard dick excited at the prospects of stimulation, Matt crawled between the open legs and began to run his moist tongue, down the inside of Ron’s parted limbs. Starting at the inside of left knee he worked his way, licking and sucking, down to the genitals of his friend, then to the right knee for a similar trip to his target. Ron writhed, emitting groans of intense pleasure! Matt had pushed the right buttons! Before he could complete his travels, Ron’s hard cock prematurely erupted, gushing hot cum from his abs to his chin.
“Oh, man!” Ron exclaimed. “That was so hot! I couldn’t stop myself !”
Matt smiled happily as he moved upward, toward his friend’s face, lapping the spent nectar off of the front of his stomach and chest. He lowered his torso on top of the slim body beneath him and slowly dropped his face to join with that of his companion. With a probing kiss, he shared the hot spunk that he had just gathered. He smiled in happiness.
Ron could feel Matt’s rigid cock sandwiched between their two hot bodies. Though most often a ‘top’ man, he appreciated the virility of feeling a stiff dick, filling his love tunnel. Wanting that desperately now, he urged his lover down, again, between his knees, raised his hips, and inserted the two pillows under his ass. Matt most willingly began to serve the desires of his slightly older friend. He sucked on Ron’s balls, then, traced a trail of moisture, with his tongue, toward his puckered goal. Circling his target, he applied first tenderness, then lust in his ministrations, licking and prodding the opening, before inserting his lubed index finger in preparation for penetration by his now throbbing cock
Matt mounted his companion with a zest, borne by youth and just plain horniness! He deeply thrust his large tool, into the eager body of his companion, and within moments was plowing furiously toward orgasm. Ron’s own dick had regained its former stiffness, as a result of the athletic ministrations to his prostate by his young friend’s cock. He could feel his body tensing for another discharge of his body’s fluid, while Matt, at the same time, reached the pinnacle of his own desire. With an attempt at muffling a loud groan, Matt frantically pounded the upturned ass with fearless abandon, as his cock discharged copious loads of cum into the hot ass of his friend. Likewise, Ron, having pumped his own swollen dick to the timing Matt’s thrusts, shot multiple streams of hot cum between their bodies, as they came together in the exquisite bonding of lovemaking!
Afterward, drained of their lust by their strenuous “exercise”, the spent young men held each other warmly, expressing their appreciation for each other tangibly, with warm, tender kisses. Relaxing completely, they fell asleep in each other’s arms.
* * * *
Ron awoke to the sound of the wind rushing over the aircraft’s extending flaps as a prelude to landing. He quickly, but carefully, extracted himself from the draped limbs of his lover, and stepped to the plane’s head. Returning with two warm washcloths and a towel, he gently removed all traces of their lovemaking from both of their slim bodies.
Matt stirred, smiled and said, “Thank you. You are wonderful!”
“You are most welcome, my sweet. I feel exactly the same way bout you.” Then winking he added, “Just another perk of the king of the airways, Turner Airlines, and Stud Service!” Laughing, Matt rolled out of the bed, and began to dress.
Fully clothed, the young men removed the sheets, which Ron then deposited into a small recessed hamper, and folded up the couch, replacing the cushions. They had just completed restoring the cabin to its normal appearance, when they heard the landing gear begin to extend, and the pilot announced their landing at La Guardia.
* * * *
The limo floated majestically down the street of Matt’s neighbor hood. The young men held hands during the trip, wordlessly thinking warm thoughts of their wonderful evening, and of each other. Matt directed the driver to the proper apartment building, where he lived alone in a tiny efficiency unit, and the large vehicle pulled to a stop at the front entrance. Ron pulled out a thin valise that he had brought from the plane. Sensing Ron’s intentions, Matt raised his hands.
“If you’re going to give me something, stop! Our evening together was not so that I could get money from you. You gave me great joy and caring, and that was far more than I ever dreamed of. Your company and the great time we had was full measure of my grandest wishes. That is more than enough!”
Ron smiled, returned the lavish complements, expressing his own happiness, then, donning a dejected look on his face, said, “Well rats! Now Mr. Peterson will be mad at me!”
“Who’s Mr. Peterson?” Matt asked.
“He’s the trustee of my educational scholarship trust account. He told me when I left Las Vegas, that I better find somebody to help, cause he was tired of doing all the work! Now I’m in deep doo-doo! I only brought one check on this trip, and I’ve messed it up, I guess.” With that, he extracted a check, with Matt’s name on it, and in the amount of $10,000, and placed it on Matt’s lap.
Tears came to Matt’s downcast eyes, and he whimpered, “I don’t know what to say! Nobody has ever been so kind to me or so shown such generosity.”
“Just do me a favor and take it!” Ron asked. Then feigning relief as Matt picked up the check, he added. “Whew, that’s a load off my mind. Now I don’t have to face that old grump with failure!” He laughed, and wrapped his arms around his friend. “I hope we can see each other again. I’ve come to really care for you.”
“I hope so too, but honestly, I’m not sure that I’m ready for any kind of long-term relationship. We have become friends, and that is all-important to me. I’ve had a great time and value you more than you could imagine. I’m just dazzled and unsure of myself.”
“That O.K. with me,” Ron answered, “If something develops, it develops! If not, then we can certainly have fun finding out. I hope to see more of you before I leave, but if something goes wrong, here is my personal card with my phone numbers, and E-mail address. I want to keep in touch!’
With that said, the young men tenderly kissed, in the privacy of the large black vehicle, then Matt stepped out and had just reached the doorway of his apartment building, when the limousine pulled slowly away from the curb.
Post script: Hope you like the story so far, drop me a note if you have time. Sympathy for my tired fingers is appreciated. Ha! JET