Route 66 Tour

Disclaimer: The following story is a work of fiction. If you are offended by descriptions of homosexual acts or man/man relations, please exit this page.

ROUTE 66 TOUR Copyright c 2002 by Tulsa Driller 7. All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction and in no way draws on the lives of any specific person or persons. Any similarity to actual persons or events is entirely coincidental. This work is copyrighted8 by the author and may not be reproduced in any form without the specific written permission of the author. It is assigned to the Nifty Archives under the terms of their submission agreement but it may not be copied or archived on any other site without the written permission of the author.

PLEASE: In a perfect world AIDS doesn't exist. My characters sometimes have unprotected sex. I hope you use proper precautions because I'd like you to be around the read the last chapter of this story.

Route 66 Tour Chapter 8

We drove in silence for at least 20 miles after we were on the Turner Turnpike. I guess we were each lost in our own thoughts. I reached for A.J.'s hand, which was resting on his thigh, and took it in my left one. He looked at me with an adorable goofy grin, which I'd only seen once before.

"Penny for your thoughts. I was wondering if you were going to come to," he said.

"I think I'm still numb and a penny is a huge bargain for you. It'll cut way in to the budget for our 'honeymoon' cottage," I laughed.

He joined me in the laugh.

"Grandmother never ceases to amaze me in the things she does. She has lots of money, but other than a nice home and beautiful clothes you would never know she had a dime. And yet, she is one of the biggest patrons of two museums here in Oklahoma City. She pretends to blend into the background, but she's a force to be reckoned with if she thinks they are misusing her money."

"If she's as forceful with her bad side as she is her generous side, I'd hate to be in her way when she walks through a room."

"That's just it. I don't think my parents realize everything she does and is responsible for. I know that the arts will get a big chunk of money when she dies, but you can be assured that they are going to have to work for it when that time comes."

I thought about it for a minute. "Do you think it's going to be like a foundation where they have to deal with a board of trustees to get money?"

"Something like that," he said with a smile. "You and I are going to be the people who have the final say about how they use the money, whether it be for new acquisitions, expanding their facilities or whatever they request money for."

"Holy shit!" I said. "How do you know this?"

"She told me a little of this the other day when she started to set things in motion for the changes she wants to make. She was afraid that if they were just given the money that it could be used however they wanted to spend it. She didn't want outside administrators because she felt they might not represent either side, so she's turning to us."

"Geez, I can't believe this."

We were quiet for another few miles.

"Are you still with me?" A.J. asked.

"Of course. I'm going to be quite a while sorting this entire matter out. There is just so much that's happened in the last couple of weeks. My life feels like it's been picked up by a tornado, spun around and around, then set back down where it was. Undamaged, but shaken up."

"That's a great analogy. It describes things for both of us perfectly. You know, she told me that she felt she was leaving things in good hands and she had never felt that way before."

"Well, it's not like she's going to die this afternoon. She's in good health and more on top of what's going on than anyone I've ever encountered."

"Never-the-less, she has been worrying about how to handle this and she thinks she's found the perfect solution. You and I will see to it that they have the money they need, use it right and also see to it that she's properly remembered for her generosity."

"I can see that. Tell me, do you think we should consider living in Oklahoma City instead of Tulsa? I mean if her money is going to Oklahoma City institutions, are we better off being in residence there?"

"If I know grandmother, we won't be tied to helping art museums and foundations in just the Oklahoma City area. I think she will want everyone to have fair access to her generosity."

"That makes sense. I just thought since you mentioned two Oklahoma City museums that it was where everything was going."

"No, I know of at least three others who have received nice gifts already and they weren't anywhere near Oklahoma City."

"Okay."

"Besides, grandmother has always loved Tulsa and I wouldn't be terribly surprised if she doesn't start living in the same town with us on a part-time basis. Sure, all of her close friends live in Oklahoma City, but she knows people everywhere. I think she will be spending a lot of time with us, not to live with us, but to be near us. After all, we are her two favorite grandsons."

My head was still spinning. I gave A.J.'s hand a squeeze - more for my own self-assurance than anything else.

By this time we were within 15 miles of home and traffic was starting to pick up. There was road construction, a couple of new interchanges were being built and another reworked to handle more traffic. It seemed that Tulsa's newest growth was to the southwest. It had been a beautiful day to be driving. The turnpike handled a lot of traffic, but with the concrete barrier in the median, it was a safe road even at 75 mph. It certainly simplified our trip.

We decided to go out for dinner to celebrate our good fortune and the blessing our lives together had received. And, most importantly, here we were - two gay men, one older and one younger. Laura was setting us up to have a social life and become part of the group of people who certainly made things happen. Would people start inviting us to events only because they knew we controlled a lot of money that might become available to their pet causes? That was not a good thought, but we couldn't very well become recluses, either.

Home at last. It was 3:30 p.m. and a beautiful day, about 80 degrees. We decided that a swim would be fun. The pool would only be open another week and we had used it just a few times since we'd been together. The water was cool, but not too much so as the sun was strong. We were the only people in the pool, so instead of swimming, we had taken a soccer ball and played like two boys, much younger than we were.

Back in the apartment, we took turns showering off the chlorine and pool residue. After getting dry, we laid down to rest for a little bit. The next thing I knew, I was being rolled onto my back and my lover was stretching his beautiful body on top of mine. No fair, he'd been awake for a little bit and was already hard. However, in short order we both were ready to play bedroom games.

A.J.'s kisses were insistent and I returned them with vigor, each of us licking up and down the others face from throat to ears and back. I'll never understand people who don't like to kiss. They might as well forget about doing anything else - at least in my book it's the biggest turn-on I can think of. A few kisses can make me extremely hard and stay that way for a long time. And we both liked to kiss when fucking the other. There's something about being stimulated with a tongue, a hard cock and a hairy stomach and chest, all at the same time. Both of us seemed to be able to cum when being fucked without touching our dicks. What a way to go! - Or "cum".

We decided to try a new position this evening although there was no verbal communication about it. It started with A.J. lying on his back with me lying on top of him. The next thing I realized was that his cockhead was probing my asshole. After using a generous quantity of lube, he was able to penetrate me by raising his hips while I perched on top of him in an upright position. It felt so good. After a careful adjustment, he was all the way inside me and started with slow strokes. As I relaxed, I lay on top of him, spreading my legs as he raised his hips more. This put us into a position where we could kiss and his strokes were making me slip up and down his furry torso easily since we were both somewhat sweaty. That coupled with him bumping my prostate about every third stroke, made me realize that I was starting to get a tingle somewhere behind my balls. He was using his bent legs as leverage to stay inside me and I could tell that both of us were getting close to an orgasm. I started clamping down on his in-stroke and without warning he started firing the juice of his love up my chute. All of a sudden it was really slick in there and he went deeper than previously. He must have hit my prostate just right because that's all it took. With my sphincter clamping around his cock and my lips around his tongue, he gave one final thrust and I erupted, sending what seemed like a gallon of cum between us.

With his cock twitching in my asshole from time to time and an occasional tightening of my sphincter ring, trying to keep him there, he began to soften and soon slipped out. I felt empty, but we were still in each other's arms. The kisses continued as we softly whispered "I love you" to each other.

We must have dozed for a little bit because when we came to and started to pull apart, our stomach and chest hair was glued to the other, like we shared one pelt. Of course it was time to hit the showers again.

"If we could experience what just happened here every time we had sex, we'd be taking a dozen showers a day," A.J. giggled.

"Maybe even more," I said, with a leer and wiggled my eyebrows.

We had our usual "martini" of Beefeater Gin on the rocks with a twist this time. Since we were going to have a big meal, we skipped snacks tonight. A.J. punched Laura's number and we talked to her for almost a half hour on the speakerphone.

She had set up guest privileges for A.J. at Southern Hills Country Club, since they had an agreement with the Oklahoma City Country Club. That's where we went for dinner after putting on suits. I had eaten there once, about twenty years before. The dining room was still much as it had been then. Elegant, quiet, excellent food and the service was as it should be. We were not rushed and each course appeared after a suitable wait from the one before. Our waiter was a fellow named Thomas, although we never figured out if that was his first name or his last. Clearly, he was one of us and treated us as if we were his only customers that evening. A.J. and I were impressed and talked about acquiring a membership, although neither of us played golf. Maybe there was a "town club" where the dining room was the most important service they offered.

Of course, we each had another drink, our usual. We "cheered" each other by touching glasses and silently puckering our lips at each other. I think Thomas saw that.

Each of us started with a cup of vegetable mushroom soup, then moved to a salad with the house dressing recommended by Thomas. Excellent!

I ordered a London Broil and A.J. decided to try their sirloin roast. Both were excellent choices as we sampled what the other had.

I had ordered a twice-baked potato unlike any I'd ever had before. The meat of the potato had been mixed with Roquefort, garlic and pieces of ham, and then finished under the broiler. The other vegetable was Brussels sprouts in a sweet sauce that made them seem like a "sweet-sour" treat.

A.J. had ordered asparagus and potato cakes with his entree. All good.

As is usual with country clubs, the dessert was the piece de resistance and was a trifle made with pound cake, brandied fruit and whipped cream. No need for a liqueur after that. Plenty of coffee instead.

As we were on our way home we were thankful that it was only 2 miles to our apartment, although we hadn't had too much to drink. We were just tired after a long day. One that had started with mind-blowing sex in the morning and another, equally intense session late in the afternoon.

At home, we stripped down to our boxers and ended up sitting on the love seat to watch the news. Neither of us cares for late night talk shows. Same old format every night and the guests cycle from one show to the other.

We decided that tomorrow would be a good day to drive around the town to get an idea of the area of town we wanted to locate to live. We pretty much knew that it was going to be between Peoria and Harvard and 21st and 51st as the north/south boundaries. That was a six-square mile area and had all types of homes in it.

It was nice to just sit and talk, to be close to each other. Nothing sexual was intended, just enjoying each other's company. We talked more about a house and both of us had suggestions. A.J. loved to cook as much as I did, so a large kitchen with plenty of storage for small appliances and gadgets was his request. I agreed, adding a pantry.

My thoughts were toward a grand music studio, one I hoped would be a two-story room. I was getting tired of playing the organ and using headphones. There was a similar problem with the piano. I felt that I could only play during the day, although the lady who lived upstairs above us swore she could barely hear it.

A.J. suggested that we either have a guest room for Laura on the ground floor since she had problems with steps, or a guesthouse. Of course, a large dining room was almost mandatory. for dinner parties.

We decided that we wanted a comfortable living room for more formal gatherings, but a really comfortable den or family room with a fireplace would be nice, also.

We agreed that we should call Doug Reynolds tomorrow morning. I wondered what kind of person he was and if he would be comfortable with helping two gay men find a home. Then I decided that it didn't make any difference. If he had a problem, there were other real estate agents in town. However, when A.J. and I discussed it, we agreed that Herbert wouldn't recommend anyone who wouldn't be willing to work with us.

It was time to call it a day and go to bed. We'd had a long, somewhat stressful day, along with a trip to Oklahoma City and back, two wonderful sexual episodes, a swim and a wonderful dinner at the best country club in Tulsa. To say nothing of being with each other for the entire day.

We made the coffeemaker ready for tomorrow morning, turned out the lights and went to the bedroom. It didn't take us long to strip off our clothes and use the bathroom. We found our way to bed and, on our sides, wrapped ourselves with the other. I didn't remember anything except a long kiss that assured me we loved each other. The next morning A.J. told me he didn't remember ending the kiss, either.

We were both up about 5:30 to pee, then slept until 7:30, unusual for each of us. After starting the coffeemaker, I opened the drapes in the living room. Yuk. It was raining lightly, but must have been at it for a while because the low place in the sidewalk out front was full of water. A.J. came from the bathroom, stood behind me and wrapped his arms around me.

"Yeeuwk," was his assessment of the situation. I turned on the TV and they happened to be on a station break from the Today Show and local weather was on. This was moving out and they were predicting sunshine by 10 o'clock. A.J. retrieved the morning paper from the doorstep while I poured orange juice and got coffee mugs out. We settled on the love seat to half-listen to the TV, scan the paper and generally prepare to start the day.

After looking at the first section of the paper, I went to the kitchen to pour coffee. A.J. started laughing at something he was reading in the paper. I went back to the living room with a question on my face.

"Wait until you read Jason's column today," he laughed.

Jason Ashley Wright is the fashion editor of the Tulsa World and is a young fellow, about 26 from what we could discern from his columns. Good-looking guy, from Mississippi. His weekly column is in the "Style" section of the Tuesday paper each week and every gay guy we knew read it for their weekly laugh. Today's offering had to do with the "tight white pants" football players wear. A.J. read the column out loud to me and we were both laughing until tears were in our eyes. This guy has class, but nothing is sacred in his world.

Of course, being the dirty-minded men we were, we wondered what criteria he had used for his research and how it had been conducted.

While drinking our first mug of coffee, we went back over our ideas about a house and decided to call Doug Reynolds as soon as we were cleaned up and ready to go out. I got a note pad and jotted down the items we had discussed, hoping that our wants weren't too diverse, but that's why Doug was in the real estate business.

We had a toasted apple-cinnamon bagel with our second cup of coffee and I headed to the bathroom to start shaving and go through the shower. I yelled back at A.J.

"Put 'large bathroom that two people can use at the same time' on the list, too."

By the time I was ready to shower, A.J. was lathering up his face. My shower didn't take long and he was ready to crawl in the tub when I was sufficiently dry enough to stand on the bath mat.

"Do I get another 'good morning kiss'?" he asked as we traded places. I was only too willing - and so was he.

After drying my hair, I retrieved A.J.'s empty cup from the bathroom and headed to the kitchen for the third cup of life support for each of us. A.J. was just starting to dry his hair when I set his cup on the bathroom counter. We exchanged another kiss and I gave his new nipple ornament a tug. His reply was such that I finally had to set my cup down before I spilled it.

As we were dressing casually for the day, we decided to call Doug Reynolds, and then drive around various neighborhoods this morning. We placed the call on the speakerphone and the receptionist suggested we call Doug's cell phone number, as he wasn't in the office yet.

The second call was successful and he told us he was expecting to hear from us today. Our apartment was on the way to his office, so he suggested he stop by in about 15 minutes. To save him time in getting into the complex, I gave him the gate access code so he could get right in without having to call for us to buzz him in.

Doug wasn't anything like I expected, although I don't know what my preconceived idea was exactly. It turned out that he was probably about 40, dressed casually with Dockers and a polo shirt. He was in good shape and I guessed that he either played tennis or golf. It quickly became clear that he was "one of us" and then he told us that about 60% of his business was with gays and lesbians.

We further found out that there was a quirk in the real estate business in Tulsa. About half the homes listed for sale never had a sign in the yard. This was something that the Tulsa Realty Board had started some years before. He felt that it had actually helped sales by not advertising the fact that some properties were slow to sell and on the market for a long time.

Doug spent an hour with us, talking about property, what we wanted in a house and if we were willing to do a major remodel if a house was found that was otherwise suitable. He was certainly impressed when we told him that we wanted a house "with character" but really weren't limiting ourselves to any one neighborhood and could consider a new home if something could be found that was to our liking. He mentioned a new development on South Lewis where 24 new homes were being built. We had seen the area, but hadn't driven through it. Doug told us that 3 lots were still available to build on.

As it turned out, he had listings on three homes that he thought we might want to look at and got out the book with pictures of each. The one we liked best was close to the Philbrook Art Museum, but way out of our price range. Doug indicated that the executive had lost his job in a corporate takeover and was leaving Tulsa. He thought that the people were anxious to try to get out of the house for what they owed on it - less than half of what it was probably worth.

"How long has this place been on the market - and what are we going to have to do to it?" was my question.

"It just was listed about 3 weeks ago. The owners did a complete remodel two years ago when they bought it. It has a new, large kitchen, plumbing, wiring, heating and air conditioning and all new landscaping except for 6 large trees on the lot."

"In your opinion, what's wrong with it?" A.J. asked.

"Not particularly set up for raising children," Doug said. "There are two large bedrooms on the second floor that have their own bathrooms and two small bedrooms with a small bath between them on the first floor, next to the living room.

We wrote down the addresses and pertinent information about each house, telling Doug that we would drive around to look at each one. He told us that the house we had just discussed was available to look at immediately as the people had gone to Houston to look for an apartment and that the sale people would be in next week to start getting their furnishings ready for an estate sale.

"I think you fellows will really like this place if you want to look at it. Although I haven't had anyone else interested in the place, it might sell pretty quickly at the price they might be willing to settle for."

A.J. gave me a look that told me he was interested so we agreed to go right then.

Doug was driving a new Mercedes E430 sedan. 'Real Estate business must be pretty good,' I thought.

The pictures didn't do the place justice. The lot was about a half-acre and the house sat back about 50 feet from the street with a driveway curving up a slight hill from the street, then disappearing around the side of the house. There was a 2-story entry hall with a stairway going to the second floor on one side. To the right was a large living room with a cathedral ceiling. The owners had opened up the ceiling, probably losing two of the upstairs rooms. You could also look into the living room from the upstairs hall. The room itself was 24 by 30 with a 21 foot pitched ceiling. This certainly would make a nice music room, especially by taking the carpet out and having a hard surfaced floor.

The owners had left the two dormers on the front of the house in place, allowing indirect, north light into the room. It certainly made for a nice, light room. There was a fireplace on the outside wall, opposite the hall wall.

The two downstairs bedrooms were behind the living room, with the bathroom between them, not a good arrangement in my thinking.

On the opposite side of the house, was a formal dining room, with a large kitchen behind it. They had been designed to be one room, but had folding doors, which could shut the dining room off, leaving a single door to the kitchen. The center hall divided the house, ending with an opening to the kitchen, an outside backdoor and had a door to the living room at the back.

There were stairs to the basement where there was a large laundry room and lots of storage. The basement was about half the size of the house, but had a large den under the living room. This had a fireplace, too.

We went back upstairs, then to the 2nd floor. The front of the house had a master bedroom with a large bathroom featuring a Jacuzzi and large glass shower enclosure. There was a large walk-in closet next to the bath.

The back bedroom was smaller, but still had a good- sized bathroom with a walk-in closet on the other side of it. I realized that the bathroom and closet were above the bedrooms and bath behind the living room. This really was a strange floor plan, but had some interesting possibilities.

We went back downstairs and outside into the backyard. There was a two-car garage, sitting at a right angle and attached to the house by a covered breezeway. We both liked the idea that the garage couldn't be seen from the street. There wasn't much backyard, but you could put in a small pool to splash around in. Certainly not a large one.

The house had been built in 1926, was 'double brick' and frame. The owners had the place completely insulated when they remodeled. There didn't seem to be any cracks in the mortar.

Doug told us the asking price on the house was $660 thousand, but that the mortgage was $387 thousand. Apparently these people were between a rock and a hard place and couldn't afford to pay rent (probably in an upscale complex) and make the monthly payments here, too. The man had taken a large salary cut in order to find a job right away.

A.J. and I smiled at each other, then told Doug that we wanted to look at the place again to take pictures and measurements. We drove away from there thinking we'd found what we wanted - needed - at a good price and could probably work out a deal.

Doug drove us to the new development on South Lewis. They were building some interesting homes there, all looking like they had been built in the 1920's.

We had the addresses of the other two properties mentioned, so would strike out on our own after lunch.

"If you want to go back in the place on 27th Place, let me know and I'll either drop a key off or make arrangements for you to pick one up at the office," Doug said as we got out of the car.

"Okay. The only thing I see wrong with it right now are the two downstairs bedrooms. They seem to be in an awkward place. It would be nice if they could be screened from the living room."

"That shouldn't be too hard to do, given the size of the living room. Maybe a screen of some kind that isn't permanent, but covers the entrances to the two rooms and bath," he said.

"Organ pipes!" A.J. spoke up.

"Huh?" Doug replied.

"Build a facade of organ pipes to screen the doors, then put the speakers for the Rodgers Organ behind them. Solves two problems - covering the doors and hiding the speakers. It'll look great," A.J. enthused.

"When did you get so smart about organs?" I asked in surprise.

"When I met you. I remember seeing the pictures of your old music studio. You used non-playing organ pipes to screen the speakers instead of grill cloth and it looked real," he smiled, as if to say "gottcha"!

Interesting thought and they didn't necessarily have to be "fake" although I'd rather have a real principal chorus in the great division instead of pedal pipes. Hmmm. A.J. may have solved the only problem I'd seen so far.

After bidding Doug good-bye, we promised to call to pick up a key a little later this afternoon.

"Just keep this one for now. Here's the alarm code," he said as he jotted numbers on his business card. It was an ADT system, so I knew how it operated. "Just call my cell phone and I'll make arrangements to get the key this evening," Doug told us.

We made ham sandwiches for lunch and warmed up some homemade potato soup to go with them.

"If they are going to sell furniture, and there are things we like, it might be a great opportunity to furnish the place at a reasonable cost and still pay them more than they would get at an estate sale," A.J. said while we were eating.

"You've already bought the place," I laughed.

He pretended to be hurt.

"No, but I can see a lot of possibilities. He started naming off some of the things we said we wanted.

"A ground floor room for grandmother for when she visits, a large music room for you, a large formal dining room, a gourmet kitchen, a big 'playroom' for us (this was said with a leer), a comfortable den in the basement."

"Alright, already." I laughed. "And it's a great address, too." I added.

I was thinking, 'the house is perfect and if the afternoon inspection proved out, we might be making a deal. right away.'

(to be continued)

• • • • • Author's Note: I would appreciate your comments, criticism, suggestions, and anything else that you would care to say. All Email will be answered. If you wish to receive e-mail notification of subsequent postings, please let me know by sending your request to the e-mail address below. Contact me at: tulsadriller7@aol.com

I'm sorry for the delay in getting this chapter written and posted. Hopefully now that most of the seasonal distractions are over, I can get back on a regular writing schedule.