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Chapter EIGHT
Stuart was too drunk to drive home and so Mason insisted that Stuart stay the night; Ross and Joaquin stayed as well, in their usual place in the guest room. That meant that Stuart had to stay in the extra bed upstairs in the apartment with Carlos. When Carlos entered the apartment and found Stuart laying on top of the bed in his boxer briefs, he was startled and could not decide whether to run or to jump on top of the hot Gringo lawyer.
"Hey" Stuart said, and Carlos smiled. "Thanks for letting me stay tonight."
"Sure" Carlos replied, "It's not my room, you can stay anytime." Carlos was not sure what the Hell he had just said but suddenly Stuart was smiling broadly.
Pulling all of his clothing off to get ready to jump in bed, Carlos sat on the edge of his bed and looked at Stuart. He was not ready for Stuart's barrage of questions.
"Look, I know there is a lot of adjusting that you are going through right now, so I want you to be able to relax and be comfortable here, so if you want me to go sleep somewhere else I can do that" Stuart said.
"No, it's ok, don't worry, as I said it's not my place, you can always sleep here."
Carlos pulled off his shorts and T-shirt and continued to stare at Stuart. He was, for a Gringo lawyer, a pretty damn good-looking guy who was a young version of his uncle Mason, kind of muscled, not built and no six-pack but amazing legs and a pretty amazing-looking crotch through those white boxer briefs. In fact it looked as if there was a stiff cock growing inside that white clingy tight nylon. Suddenly Carlos realized he was hard- not getting hard, but full blown hard and dripping pre-cum.
Carlos lay back on his bed and put his hands behind his head; he knew that this would of course make it obvious to the whole fucking world that he was turned on and hard and ready to cum, but he suddenly did not care and just wanted to see what the fuck would happen next. He heard Stuart clear his throat, and then Stuart whispered: "Hey looks like you are pretty happy over there."
"What? What do you mean?"
"Well, your soldier is at attention and saluting, and it looks like you are dripping."
Fuck. Now what?
"I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but if you need to J/O or something..."
"What's that?"
"J/O? It means jack off."
"Oh. Yeah. Shit, Ummh, yeah well maybe..."
"Oh, yeah well, maybe, if you want a hand or something..."
"What does that mean?"
"I could jack you..."
Before Carlos could react, before he let his mind control him, he rolled toward Stuart and smiled and pulled his cock out of his shorts. Stuart was impressed with this South American soldier, now standing at full attention and spilling pre-cum. He licked the tip of Carlos' dick to taste his pre-cum which truly startled Carlos, but then Stuart started in jacking him slowly, softly, gliding his hand up and over the dripping cock and smearing the pre-cum up and down Carlos throbbing pole.
Stuart spit on his hand and slid it up and down Carlos dick to get him wetter, and still continued his soft grip and rhythm. "Harder" Carlos heard someone say, and wondered who said that and why.
Stuart obeyed, and his grip tightened, and his rhythm increased slightly, and the pre-cum was gushing and Stuart was using it to lubricate the Venezuelan cock, and the moans coming from Carlos seemed to Carlos as if they were coming from some animal outside the room.
Carlos was thinking "I wish this could go on forever" and then he heard Stuart say "If you want babe" and Carlos was startled and sat up slightly and the sight of his cock being jacked by a man was too much for him and he came at once without warning, blowing his first volley onto his chest and his second and third gobs onto his stomach and then oozing like lava down his cock and onto Stuart's hand. He crashed back onto the pillow, and lay there panting, breathless, and still hard and wanting more and more and more of whatever this was. He was brought back to reality by the sound of Stuart licking Carlos' cum off his hand.
Carlos lay there in the dark, silent, panting, not knowing what to do next.
"You OK?" Stuart asked softly.
"Yeah" Carlos whispered.
"Let me help you clean up" Stuart said as he went to the bathroom to get a clean warm wet cloth. He returned to the bed and softly and gently wiped the flood of cum from Carlos' chest and stomach and cock and balls. Carlos never lost his stiffness during all of it, as if he had not cum yet.
"Man, looks like you are ready to go again" Stuart laughed.
"Hell yeah, I guess so, I have never done that, but maybe?"
"Oh yeah? I have never been able to go back-to-back without a little rest in between" Stuart explained, "but if you want, we can try it again?"
"Fuck yeah!" Carlos demanded.
Stuart knelt next to Carlos bed, and then without announcement or permission, took the beautiful cock into his mouth and began urgently sucking Carlos. Carlos could not say anything; he had no words, no cogent thoughts, just knew that this was the best thing he had ever felt in his life and wanted it to go on forever. Stuart took his time sucking Carlos to completion, and once again the shattering cum Carlos experienced was more than he could anticipate. He lay on the bed completely stunned. Stuart swallowed every drop this time, and then fell exhausted onto his own bed.
The next morning Carlos noticed that Stuart was missing; Carlos went down to breakfast and Mason told him that Stuart had gone to work late; he would be back on Friday.
The golden months of September and October had zipped by with almost no notice: Mario and Mason were extremely busy with workloads and strategic social engagements, and Mario more than once had to spend a night at a hotel near the office after being out with his partners for late meetings, cocktail parties and other professional obligations. By the time Thanksgiving arrived, Mason looked forward to it as a chance to recover from the abnormally busy weeks they had just experienced.
When Mason approached the topic of Thanksgiving in a breakfast discussion with Mario two weeks before the holiday, they agreed to invite all of the `orphans' they knew into their home. Mason did not want a huge public bash like the Fourth of July party, just a buffet supper with all of the usual Thanksgiving dishes and lots of alcohol. After inviting the usual fuck club, the surfers, waiters, and Ross and Joaquin, everyone had agreed to come except Mike, Tad's boyfriend, who was going to Kansas City to see his family. Tad of course was a true orphan, having lost his family over the prior few years, so he was eager to help Mario and Mason cook for the holiday.
Thanksgiving had no meaning for Carlos, but he suggested to Mason when he had been asked about the holiday, that a couple of Venezuelan dishes might be fun. Mason did some research and found six recipes, and they agreed that two of them might be easy for Tad to fix: pulled pork with guasaca salsa, and baked plantains with powdered sugar.
The day was a huge hit with all of the boys; despite Mike being gone, Tad was still pretty buoyant and enjoyed being in the thick of hosting the party. He and Mason had developed into close friends, and it was apparent to Mason that Tad deeply missed his family despite the years he had already been alone. They hugged each other frequently while preparing the feast.
There was a ton of food, tons of desserts, tons of beer, and tons of wine; it was not the formal Thanksgiving party Mason had previously thrown in his Manhattan apartment in prior years filled with celebrities and politicians, but was low-key and pleasant. The evening was noisy however as a beach volleyball game had begun, with the surfers and waiters competing. Several cute boys from the neighborhood homeowners association drifted in, and by the time the beach was too dark to play volleyball any longer, the newbies had joined the party poolside and were getting pretty lubricated with beer.
Mason and Mario smiled to each other at the half-dozen local boys who had joined them: tanned, lean, blonde, and delicious. Mason wondered if the newbies would end up getting initiated tonight by the surfers and waiters. They did not have to wait too long to watch the process unfold: one of the surfers had to rush down the beach to piss, and a couple of the neighborhood boys went with him, and when Mario noticed they were taking an unusually long time for a pee-break, Mason waved toward the beach where they noticed a couple of boys on their knees and a couple of blonde neighbors moaning loudly enough to be heard in the house.
Within an hour, the party was in full swing, and the neighbor boys were enjoying the pleasures of male sex with their new-found friends and the courage provided by the alcohol. Jeremy, who lived next door to Mason and Mario and was a student at Santa Monica City College, was getting his ass initiated by Carlos for the very first time. Mario whispered to Mason that a fresh asshole was a great gift for Carlos, but perhaps Carlos' large Venezuelan cock might be too much for a first-timer. Jeremy took it like a pro and was moaning rather than crying. Mason slid under him and took Jeremy's cock into his mouth to help heighten his pleasure.
Jimmy, Jeremy's best friend, was watching all of this with eyes as big as saucers, and before he could utter an objection, found his own cock in a mouth: Mario was an expert cocksucker and Jimmy had no reason to object as he neared an explosion of cum onto Mario's face. Just before Jimmy began his orgasm, Mario inserted two fingers into the boy's ass, and hitting his prostate helped push him over a very pleasurable cliff.
Vince was the son of a diplomat from Europe and lived about a mile further north on PCH; he had a European attitude toward sex, and was eager to get into Jimmy's ass as soon as Mario's fingers had prepared it for him. With an asshole slathered with spit and lube, Jimmy unceremoniously took a long slender European cock inside himself, gasping at the invasion but never uttering an objection. The other three neighbor boys, by this time, were naked, hard, and dripping, and the waiters were only too eager to take their cocks in their mouths and then their asses, all three neighbor boys lined up on the floor of the great room on their knees fucking their way into the hearts and minds and assholes of three Argentine waiters. The moaning became almost humorous as waiters and neighbors were competing for decibels; Mason was sure he was hearing a re-play of a porn video sound track.
Carlos, after fucking Jeremy, was watching this entire process with fascination and horror; he was still wearing his beach shorts but was jacking his cock while seated on the sofa, not sure what to do next. Before he could focus on what he was doing or what he wanted, he came; his sperm shot across the room onto the back of the nearest neighbor boy, who immediately set off a chain reaction of cumming among his friends who were fucking themselves into the record books with waiters at their mercy. Immediately after cumming, Carlos went to the patio for some fresh air; he did not return to the party but went to his apartment over the garage instead.
Mason and Mario had their turns at sucking neighbor-boy cock; all six got the treatment, with Mario and Mason taking turns one by one. Exhausted, the guests slowly dropped into sleep on any available surface: chaise lounges, sofas, beds, and chairs.
In the morning, Mason had coffee brewing for everyone, along with a pile of bacon and scrambled eggs. Following the resuscitation of the six new fuck-friends from the neighborhood as well as the surfers and waiters, the house became quiet as they all sleepily left for their own homes. Carlos was the last one to slip into the sunlit morning room; he looked very sheepish and anxious and hungover.
Mason greeted him as if nothing had occurred; he offered Carlos coffee and breakfast, and then he explained that the coming Friday was special, it was going to be their annual gift-exchange party, where they had cocktails and hors d'oeuvres for neighbors and friends. Carlos was a little apprehensive since he had no gifts to give anyone, and also because he wondered if he might become a victim of another wild sex party; obviously Tad's prediction had already come true and Carlos was not sure what he wanted to do about it.
Mason asked "How did you sleep?" and Carlos just shook his head; "I guess really hard, I only had two beers and I feel a little bit hung over."
"Well I can fix you some `hair of the dog' if you wish" Mason said.
"What's that?" Carlos asked, startled.
"A Bloody Mary; get a little alcohol into your system the next morning so you don't feel so horrible. With only two beers last night, you might only need a small drink."
"No thanks, I think I am going to call Tad and ask him to come over and give me another surf lesson. I might feel better after I get in the water."
"Good idea; do you have his number? I can call him if you want."
"No thanks, I have his number, I just need to wake up a little more first."
Mason poured a cup of coffee for Carlos, and in a few minutes Tad was running across the highway; he told Carlos he wanted to teach him how to wax the boards, and they were in the water within an hour. Mason enjoyed watching them from the pool deck, and then strolled down to the sand to get a closer look. Carlos looked happy and care-free, and Mason was glad the kid could get some of the burden of family issues behind him for a few minutes at least.
The week went by slowly; Mason was embroiled in writing his weekly blog as well as preparing his first NPR interview, and trying to make arrangements for the Friday gift exchange party. He drafted Carlos and Tad to spread flyers throughout their immediate neighborhood to the various homes with which they were familiar, and also to the usual gaggle of pirates that populated their sex parties. The caterer called twice to confirm the menu, and Mason made three trips to the liquor store to be sure they had enough wine, champagne, and beer.
Mario's week was equally long and tedious, drafting court entries to ask for extensions on the court calendar or visiting clients in various jails around Los Angeles County and substituting for his three partners while they were on the east coast attending a law conference.
Mario seemed unusually tired; he was carrying the weight of the office alone, and the clerks and legal assistants were pretty much ignoring his leadership in the absence of higher authority. One night he was late getting home, nearly 9 PM. Mason greeted him at the door with a glass of wine, which Mario refused; he just wanted to have a snack and get to bed and return to the office by 7 AM the next day. Mason began to worry; he made a note to discuss the situation with Mario on the weekend after the gift exchange party.
The gift exchange party was one of Mason's favorite things to do, and it was among the three top social events on his personal calendar. For each of their neighbors whom they did not see often, Mason and Mario had chosen to prepare gift baskets of wine, cookies, and fruits; for the waiters from the tapas restaurant, the sushi restaurant, and their favorite seafood restaurant, they chose gift cards to the malls; and for their close friends, including Mason's doctor, David Neville, and lawyer, Fritz Cooper, and the surfers, they chose gift cards for clothing stores and restaurants and gas stations. For Carlos, they chose an American Express gift card with $5,000 loaded on it; for Mike, their bartender and Tad's boyfriend, and for the tapas and sushi restaurant managers, Jerry Ride and Yoshio Sato, they gave American Express gift cards as well with $250. It was not elegant but it was useful.
The party was a magical introduction to the holiday season; they structured it as an open-house and had a parade of guests throughout the evening with the waiters arriving last. Mason was enjoying himself but was worried about Mario who seemed overly-tired. Carlos was wide-eyed at the whole proceeding, never having been exposed to this side of life, even in California. The surfers looked as if they wanted to stay all night, eagerly making certain there was no leftover food or alcohol, but not yet aware this was not supposed to turn into one of the monthly sex parties like Thanksgiving had. Tad finally led them home about midnight, and there was a general wistfulness among the boys, especially the neighbor boys who had just recently been initiated.
Stuart was not at the party but planned on coming over the next day to coordinate the trip to South America; he arrived at lunch time with an armful of deli selections to feed a crowd. Mario was napping on the patio while Mason was mixing pitchers of white sangria, mimosas, Bloody Mary's, and Bay Breezes. Carlos smiled when he saw Stuart; it had been more than a week since their night together.
Stuart smiled and greeted Carlos warmly with a hug; they sat together to eat and clinked beer bottles. Mason suspected a secret between them but was not going to ask, it would come out sooner or later. Besides, he did not want to upset the emotional balance prior to leaving for South America; a cloud over the trip would guarantee a miserable time for everyone.
Carlos explained to Stuart how he had been learning to surf, and the things Tad had taught him. Stuart admitted he had no idea how to surf but did enjoy snow skiing. He offered to take Carlos with him as soon as they got back from Buenos Aires; he explained what a trip to Lake Tahoe would be like, and the beauty of the mountains. Stuart told Carlos how he had learned to ski at home in Idaho among the heavy snowfalls of the Snake River country.
Carlos was apprehensive of what Stuart was saying; he had only a sketchy knowledge of the sport from watching TV, but was eager to add another new feature to his new life. Once again, he felt like he had just landed on a new planet.
Mason excused himself to retrieve something from the house; when he returned to the patio, he had several brightly-wrapped packages. First, he handed a box to Carlos, then one to Stuart, and finally another to Mario.
He urged Mario to open his package first; inside was a shiny platinum key ring with a heavy black key hanging from it with a Lamborghini logo on the side. Mario laughed and shouted and shrieked and laughed again.
"Oh my God, Baby, how could you? This is amazing!"
He jumped up and kissed Mason, and they hugged for a long moment; "You have made me the happiest man alive" Mason whispered to him, and they kissed again.
Mason asked Stuart to open his box next, and inside was a snow globe, with a miniature Santa Claus wearing sun glasses and baggy swim trunks. Stuart laughed and asked "What motivated this, Uncle Mason?"
Mason smiled and said "Look in the bottom of the box."
Attached to the bottom was a thick envelope, and when Stuart opened it, found the deed of transfer for a 300-acre barley farm in Idaho, from Mason to Stuart. "It came to me when my father died, and I have no need of it, and so I want you to have it. Do whatever you want with it, keep it, sell it, rent it out, whatever" Mason smiled broadly.
"Uncle, I can't take this, really," and he just stood there mumbling, pleading.
"Of course you can, it's a done deal" Mason urged him.
"But do you know how much this is worth?"
"To me, not a thing, it is just land, and a place that has some sweet memories, but it is not a place I want to go back to and it is not a place that interests me at all, so it is all yours. Do whatever you want with it."
Finally, Mason faced Carlos and asked him to open his gift. Inside was another set of car keys, this time for a small BMW convertible coupé, and Carlos felt overwhelmed. "Oh my God" was all he could whisper. And then finally, "Thank you," and for the first time, he hugged Mason.
Mason was delighted that he was having so much fun giving gifts; he had no reason to expect anything from these people, he loved them all openly and fully, and making them happy today was the only gift he needed. The twinkly lights strung along the outside eaves of the house, both front and back, were a match to his mood, twinkly, light, special, and outlining a special place and time. There was no Christmas tree in the great room, just a warm glow from the feelings shared by friends and lovers.
He stood and said "OK everybody, out front to see the stuff Santa left in the driveway."
They all followed him through the great room and to the front of the house, and there was Mario's bright red Lamborghini and Carlos' sparkly silver BMW. Of course the next two hours after lunch had been finished and cleared away, were spent in racing up and down PCH as everyone took turns driving the two new cars.
When Mason returned to the house from the final ride, there was a large basket on the front door step with a card which read "Happy Holidays from your `Accidental' Friend." Mason assumed it was from the woman who had caused his car accident and broken leg, and he was truly moved. All of the gifts in the basket had been handmade, except the bottle of wine; there were small jars of homemade jam, relish, and pickles, and two kinds of holiday cake. They took the basket inside and began sampling everything, when Stuart asked "Hey what are we doing for supper?"
Before anyone could answer, Tad was ringing the doorbell and announced that he had a new recipe he wanted to try and would anyone mind being his guinea pig for dinner? They all laughed, and when Mike was struggling through the door with a box of groceries, they all set about bringing out bottles of wine, bottles of beer, and placing napkins and plates and silver on the patio table. By dark, a happy and over-stuffed crowd was smiling and laughing and enjoying the almost-cold breeze coming across the patio from the Pacific. Tad's dinner of fresh greens, oysters Rockefeller, grilled salmon, grilled sweet potatoes and green onions, and ending with tres leches cake, impressed everyone.
Mason was still glowing from the experience: good friends and lovers and family and true camaraderie and friendship and support among them all was a great blessing in his life, he realized. It had been many years since he had felt this good about his life. The new friends, Tad and Carlos among them, and the new love in his best friend's life, Joaquin, and the new love in his own life, Mario, made this a very special season.
Stuart and Mario spent nearly an hour after breakfast the next morning planning the trip to South America; besides flying to Buenos Aires, they all wanted to make a few side trips including visiting with Carlos' grandfather for at least a day. Mario explained some of the holiday traditions among his family, including visiting the graves of deceased relatives and leaving Christmas wreaths on the graves; he also said they would be expected to spend at least a day on the beach in Uruguay.
His entire family spent Christmas day together and the feasting went on for a full day, and the staff would be dismissed so it was necessary for the family to prepare, serve, and clean up the dinner. The following day they would be expected to visit the horse farm where Mario had spent the most cherished hours of his childhood; Mason was looking forward to the day trip more to see his lover's happy face than to spend time riding horses, considering his still-mending leg.
Carlos had a sadness about him when Stuart and Mario were done explaining the trip and the various events that they would all share. His own childhood in Venezuela, what he remembered of it, was not so happy, so this trip to his homeland, so to speak, would be a test for him as well as a new opportunity. He was also concerned about his parents and his brother and sister, and how they were getting along without him and without being together at a special time of year as a family. He decided to stand up and take a walk on the beach when Stuart interrupted him.
"Hey Carlos" he called, "we want you to be happy while you are with us for this trip so we have decided to try some special things."
Carlos stopped and stared at him. "I am happy right now" he lied.
"Right, yes, we can all see that just by looking at your face" Stuart continued, and smiled broadly to be able to reassure Carlos of his intentions. "Since we are going to get to meet your grandfather for only a part of one day, we have decided to ask some special people to join us in Buenos Aires on Christmas Day."
"Who?" Carlos demanded.
"Your Mom and Dad."
Carlos was stunned; "That's impossible" he protested.
"Really?" Mario asked. "As your attorney, I have certain powers and the opportunity to keep track of and in touch with your family, and so without your permission, I got the contact information for your parents in Caracas and they will be flying to Buenos Aires to see us."
"How? Why? What? You mean..." Carlos was truly baffled. God damn these Americans, they were so mysterious. He sat down and cried openly. Everyone came over to the chaise he was seated on and hugged him.
Mason was the first to speak. "I have been without my family for the most part of the past two decades; I know what it can be like to try to get through the holidays and be alone. You have right here today surrounding you, some of the finest people on the planet: good friends, new friends, but we also realize that your blood family is very important to you and perhaps even more important than all of us. So please accept this gift from us."
Carlos cried even harder, silently sobbing, his shoulders shaking. Mason urged him to stand, and each man hugged him intensely, Stuart the last, and just stood there holding this beautiful Venezuelan man. Mason was thrilled.