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The Schuyler Fortune VI: A Throuple of Bums-3
Arriving at JFK, he was quickly checked in at the curb at Iberia, quickly transited TSA without more than a cursory search of his backpack's hardware, and he headed for the first-class lounge, directed there by the guy at the TSA exit. There was a map of JFK terminals and shopping on his iPhone which he looked over.
He didn't need a massage or alcohol, didn't see any hot guys to lure, but his eyes lit on the buffet right away. No more wilted asparagus for this boy. He kept his backpack on and headed over.
The first salad announced by a neatly printed card was a blankety-blank wilted asparagus salad. He thought to himself, "ya can't make this stuff up!" and passed that one by.
There were other wonderful salads, endless entrees, Spanish and otherwise, a carving station with a real chef standing behind it carving several different meats, a bakery section and a separate dessert station. He'd never had horchata to drink and was game to try it regardless.
He also took Coca-Cola and found a place to sit and eat while watching the planes come and go through the partially tinted plate glass windows.
He thought he could get used to this...and then thought...I have to get used to this now...and began the grieving process for the loss of what he had been used to.
He had begun a few days ago with denial like everyone else, then some silliness to mask anger and sorrow for all he had worked for was gone and he had no experience with this way of living. He didn't want to appear stupid or make rookie mistakes, but his adult head told him he would. His little head kept telling him, "let's get started."
He turned left at the end of the jetway to first-class, instead of right to coach. Seat 2-A was a pod partially walled to view for privacy by vertical barriers. The seat lived by the window on the left side of the jet.
A champagne flute sat there waiting for champagne to be poured. He wasn't about to drink it either. He had read that bottled water was the drink of choice to stay hydrated during long flights.
He rummaged through the goodies. An 'Amenity kit', nice nail clippers, comb, brush, face products, tooth brush and toothpaste and moisturizer, sat on a ledge. Within reach lay plastic-wrapped Bose noise-cancelling headphones, slippers, a robe wrapped in plastic, silk eyeshades with a band to hold them in place, and a menu for dinner later.
An entertainment center was front and center with a remote to watch movies, listen to music, or stare at a little dot moving across the Atlantic, the map cycling between zoomed views and closeups.
The town and ocean names appeared in Spanish, so Liam had a free Spanish vocab lesson for a few hours. The seat was fabulous; it apparently lay flat by the looks of the controls.
He looked at the seat to his right, across the aisle and saw only someone's knees covered with pants. He could not see their feet, shoes or their torso and certainly not their eyes or face. He assumed the reverse was true. He took it that his own privacy was only to be violated to the point of showing his clothing-covered knees to someone else.
If his dick got hard during his slumbers that night, the flight attendants could have their own entertainment center. Perhaps they would supply pillows and blankets for some passengers, so they could avoid chuckling as they worked. He didn't snore that he was aware, thank God.
He tried on the Bose headphones. They worked. He took them off and put them right back on. He didn't need to hear the passengers shuffling on board.
After announcements and taxi which lasted forever, the Boeing 777 spooled up its gigantic two power plants and swept into the air. At height, 37,000 feet, somewhere past Long Island and somewhere south of Nova Scotia, first class service began with crystal and china and flowers and real food, wonderfully prepared compared to his kitchen, and he began to relax.
By Newfoundland and then south of Greenland, most of the first-class cabin passengers were 'flat' out, many sleeping, some watching TV or movies, some reading, some still drinking, few were talking.
Morning dawned after being at 38,000 feet for a long while. Breakfast was served, croissants with real butter, strawberry jam, coffee, choice of hard roll or pastry, choice of juices or hot drinks, cheeses and sliced meats, European brands of yogurt.
It wasn't morning in New York yet and Liam felt internally weird and sleepy. It wasn't time for morning yet according to his brain chemistry. He ate anyway and realized his mistake later.
One doesn't normally eat at 2 a.m. The caffeine raises the blood glucose temporarily then it crashes down again making jet lag worse unless ingested again over and over which sometimes interferes with getting over jet lag sooner.
He was excited, however, to see the sights. He checked his backpack which he had strapped to his left leg and placed under his seat which after a short inspection he found to be safe from prying hands from in back of his seat.
It was still there. He wasn't about to haul out the iPad Pro and check his new financial status on the plane.
He wasn't sure who had access to the Wi-Fi network. Then he remembered that he had a VPN on the device that scrambled any connection to a router, including the jet's wireless router, so he opened the device and checked to make sure the treasure was still in the vault, so to speak.
His total in cell G210, highlighted in pale violet, had increased a little over fifty-four thousand dollars during the flight.
He turned the device off and began to shake a little.
He wept silently for a few minutes behind the hastily donned eyeshade. His tears he wiped with Kleenex and he blew his nose a few times.
He wasn't miserable or in pain.
He was enormously disturbed and felt alone.
Really alone.
The jet landed in Barcelona in sunshine. It wasn't warm yet but felt like Jacksonville or Orlando early in the morning. A slight haze in the air reminded him of the city. He saw a few palm trees were. Liam collected his suitcase, put on his backpack and went to the transportation desk to get a limousine.
Liam's translate app worked well enough.
"I need a limousine to the 16 Barcelona hotel, please." came out the speaker as "Necessito una limusina al hotel 16 Barcelona si us plau," in Catalan.
He did not understand the reply but was motioned politely to a spot on the airport sidewalk where a uniformed man accepted euros for the trip and dispensed a receipt for the payment and helped him into the next limousine that approached.
Liam kept his suitcase and backpack with him in the back seat. He tipped the driver a hundred euros at the hotel, got a wide-eyed "moltes gracies" in Catalan and Liam entered the 16 Barcelona, a tall hotel near the sea. He had rented the suite for a month and it was ready for him at his booking request on arrival.
Liam presented his passport and a copy of the reservation which had been prepaid. He presented a thousand euros for incidentals onto his account, received a receipt, and got a startled look from the desk clerk. A bellboy again placed his suitcase on a cart and they headed up a fast elevator to the concierge level.
Liam tipped well again, took the suitcase and his backpack, headed to the bathroom, turned on the light, emptied his bladder as if to mark the room as his own, locked the door securely with the deadbolt in place, placed his luggage on the rack provided, hung up the hanging clothing so neatly packed by the Bloomingdale personal shopped and finally undressed.
He took his backpack and plugged it into the Spanish electrical outlet adapter, crawled between the wonderful sheets, and slept.
When in late afternoon he awoke, he called the concierge and asked for a personal shopper to buy European style clothing to wear in Barcelona that month. The concierge gave him a website URL to reach a page to enter his clothing size and shoe size.
He told Liam that the order page would take his American sizes and if needed, translate those to European sizes, not usually a huge problem, but nice to know. On that page and related pages were pictures of formal, informal, beach wear, out and about shopping wear, swim wear, under-gear, shoes, sandals and pictures of everyday people wearing some of the clothing.
One had to enter their sizes and click on the clothing desired. The clothes would be delivered before eight p.m.
At seven-thirty p.m. the knock sounded, and packages of clothing and some hanging clothes were delivered and hung.
Liam ordered from room service for dinner and soon the knock at the door came again. The waiter, whose name tag said 'Tomas' placed the food on the dining table in the suite, eyeing Liam's junk from time to time. Liam had an idea about this guy.
"You know," the waiter said, "I could teach you some Catalan. It's not hard since some Catalan words are similar or the same as Spanish."
"For instance, the word 'handsome', in both languages is 'guapo'," said the waiter.
Daniel knew for sure. He looked at the waiter and replied, "I think it would be important to study Catalan."
The waiter smiled. "I am off in fifteen minutes. I will call my supervisor and tell him to check me out a little early."
He began to remove his jacket, his tie, his polished black shoes, his socks, his shirt and finally his pants and under-gear until he stood gloriously naked.
"The custom in Catalonia is for both men to make love similarly dressed or not dressed."
"This is my first time with a man."
"I will be gentle."
Liam didn't take long shedding his new clothing. When both stood facing the other, Liam slowly approached Tomas; they embraced and kissed. Hands went to each other's cocks and asses. Tomas began to slide his hand up and down Liam's cock. Liam though his new partner's skin was so fucking soft, he nearly came, but didn't. He found himself hard as a baseball bat, however, dripping pre-cum.
He reached under Tomas' balls and felt the soft skin there where very little hair grew on this guy.
They continued to kiss. Liam dug his face into Tomas' neck and smelled a pine scent there mixed with a little sweat. Tomas reached around Liam's back and stroked his crack and his finger over Liam's ass.
That territory no man had touched before, and Liam's mind came to attention; a thrill ran up and down his spine. By that time, Tomas' cock, a hard, normal-sized instrument, was dripping. Liam began to sweat.
Liam leaned down in front of Tomas and licked and sucked to his heart's delight on the large brown areolae surrounding Tomas' nipples, now erect.
The waiter's head went back, and his mouth opened with delight, for this sensation might have been hard-wired to his cock.
Liam knelt down and for the first time attempted to suck and lick the cock in front of him, having read online and viewed enough porn to realize that the teeth needed protection with the lips to make one's partner happy.
His tongue gently rasped the back of Tomas' cock as his head bobbed up and down the cock shaft, his lips taking a longer, deeper purchase on the shaft every few strokes.
He gagged a few times and coughed, then with practice suppressed most of the gag reflex and tried to swallow when Tomas pushed into his mouth. He finally got his lips down to the base of Tomas' cock.
By this time Tomas had one finger firmly seated just inside Liam's ass and Tomas pulled out of Liam's mouth.
After more kissing and body exploration, Tomas nudged Liam on to his hands and knees, bottom in the air. Liam handed Tomas a condom from his backpack; Tomas put it on himself. Lube emerged from the backpack as well and Tomas applied it to his own cock and to Liam's ass.
Liam, at this point, was pretty sure he was going to get fucked. For the first time. This kind man was going to put his cock in Liam's hole.
He began to feel a little unreal and dizzy and a little sleepy. What the fuck was this? He stopped and turned to Tomas.
"I'm feeling a little sick here. I need to vomit."
He didn't but also didn't want to continue. Liam stumbled into the bathroom and locked the door. A knock sounded at the door of the suite, insistent. Tomas reluctantly clothed himself and went to the door. His tased body came tumbling back into the room, a mass of twitching protoplasm on the floor."
"Hi Liam. Glad we got here in time," yelled Alan through the door. "Open up! This waiter isn't a waiter. He's a serial rapist, in and out of jail; his specialty is giving HIV to other men for free without their consent. He is aware of his health status and refuses treatment."
Alan and a co-worker efficiently put on additional gloves and began to put condoms and other equipment into large plastic bags.
"The Spanish Police will send a special investigator over who is on the way now... How did we know you were in this room and what was going on? It is our job to know without violating your privacy. Our job is to keep you safe. Period. We got here just in time, I think. This guy's records were difficult to find and translate. Some things we can tell you, some things we cannot..."
"For now, you are OK, but because of his touching and kissing, it would be a good idea to get a doc in here in tonight and get post-exposure medication (PEP) to ensure you don't get a positive HIV status out of this encounter. That chance is less than 1% or so. It has to be started as soon as possible and within seventy-two hours to work."
"You will have to take medication every day for a month at the precise same time every day, not skipping even a single dose in order to prevent HIV seroconversion, a sign that you are infected with the virus."
"He didn't ejaculate, and you don't have any cuts or tears in your mouth? Did he bite you?"
At this point Liam had recovered from shock and fright a little, shook his head but still felt bad enough to mention that he had noted nausea and sleepiness after eating and drinking...
"We need to have the doc check for Rohypnol and other drugs in these glasses and the food so please don't disturb any of this for now."
Alan continued, "If there is anything good about tonight's business, I am absolutely sure that the 16 Barcelona will not charge you for the stay this month. If they refuse to compensate you for the attack in this way, you have the Schuyler attorneys and Ben as point attorneys to sue the corporation in the United States."
"If a civil suit goes your way, steps can be taken to freeze assets in the United States until they pony up. They ordinarily have the world's best security. I'm pretty sure they will do the right thing. The 16 Barcelona hotel cares more than most hotels do about the safety and security of their guests."
The doctor who arrived within an hour brought post-exposure medication to be taken for thirty days to prevent HIV from taking hold. He confirmed that the risk was very low to start but didn't advise him to take his chances either. The attacker might have had a very high viral load since he wasn't taking treatment for his disease.
Hotel security had arrived much sooner on the scene, taken the assault seriously, taken evidence photos and samples and were, in their turn, photographed and their actions documented by Alan and his co-worker.
Liam's telephone rang. The general manager of the hotel spoke excellent English and apologized for the disaster.
"Letting this man get as far as your suite is a failure on our part and I take personal responsibility even if I must resign my position. This attack makes me feel very badly for you. There is no satisfactory way to compensate you for your distress."
"May I ask your permission to attempt a start in that direction by transferring you to a different, better suite in the penthouse for your stay? That way, you will not be reminded as much, perhaps, of this incident when you step in and out of the suite you are in."
"In addition, may I have your permission to give you that penthouse free of charge. I'm aware that you have already paid a fortune for the three weeks in the suite you occupy, but we would have paid that fortune for this not to happen to you."
Liam thanked him and accepted his offer. This wasn't the time to fall on a bed of nails. He had already suffered and if the General Manager felt better this way, he was up for that.
The GM himself hadn't let the asshole in the door, he thought, but graciously took responsibility anyway. He imagined there might be security changes at 16 Barcelona before the next day was over, both personnel and policy changes.
The phone rang again. "Hey Liam, I didn't send you over to get attacked, yelled Ben thousands of miles away. "That wasn't on the list I gave you, man."
"I've heard the details and will go over them tomorrow with you. Sign nothing and say nothing for now. If the hotel wants to upgrade or compensate you, fine, but don't sign anything at all, hear me?"
"Why am I saying, 'yes sir!' to my attorney?" asked Liam.
"Love you for calling and having my back. It must still be daytime over there, though. I'm OK. I'll take my meds, dad. Talk to you tomorrow."
A waiting line of housekeepers and staff had assembled in the hall and a procession carried his belongings up to the penthouse. Liam carried his own suitcase and backpack. He called the concierge who also apologized for his distress and for their failure to provide the best for Liam.
Liam asked if the concierge would be willing to have someone vet his room service waitstaff and possibly send two instead of one as he had had a bad shock. The concierge replied that he could and would. In addition, if there was another way to smooth the process for him, they would think of it and do that too.
The rest of the three weeks went very well. Liam walked the markets and beaches, the Plaça Catalunya and Las Ramblas, visited the Gaudi architectural sites excluding the tourist-infested sites, avoided the numerous male saunas, practiced some skills at a discrete all-male establishment, ate wonderful food and exercised in the hotel gym.
The last week at the Axel was illuminating. The hotel advertised as 'hetero-friendly', a great twist in marketing. Their rooms were reasonable and comfortable, the food quite good, most of the patrons gay and the roof eye candy was remarkable with tanned-appearing brown, smooth bodies around the pool that got Liam's heart pounding with excitement.
Liam wondered why that was. He finally realized they didn't know him, and he didn't know them. That week didn't bring him a connection to anyone.
Liam's return flight left at noon from Barcelona to JFK and arrived at about the same hour of the day that he left Barcelona, perhaps a little later. He called Mateo from the Barcelona airport before he left and asked if the museum offer was still open.
"Of course! It is open naturally. We're expecting you, dude. There will be a driver to meet you with a banner that says "Schuyler, LM" for your privacy. He'll drive you to the museum. Fly safe, gorgeous man. You can sleep for as long as you like in the afternoon in the suite next to ours and into the night without disturbance to reverse your sleep patterns."
"But after that, Paulo and I are going to snuggle up with you and give you love and kisses to celebrate your escape from Mr. Horrible and to welcome you back home. By the way, is it OK with you if Ben comes and snuggles with you this afternoon.?"
"I think he will avoid law games and also avoid pushing you into something you don't want. My instinct says that he's a considerate sweetie that also loves you like we will after we get to know you better."
"He's also had a shock hearing the news from Barcelona and is anxious to make sure you survive intact. All of us want that."
"I have to tell you that we have an idea to live here as a throuple together, loving each other equally, having each other's backs, sharing sex together and with each other as couples, threesomes or... "
"Paulo and I have fooled around a little like brothers sometimes do but have never fucked and we're thinking about working up to that. I still have to find out if he's decided about that. Expressing our brotherly love may be naughty, but we're all adults and we can all love each other in every way we wish."
"It's not like we're going to impregnate each other or anything. Anyway. Keep it in mind and think about it and we'll talk about it one day."
The traffic was moderate between JFK and Manhattan. The limousine glided through the front gate of the Schuyler museum. Mateo met Liam at the front door, a footman brought the two suitcases, Liam's backpack remained on his person. Liam had been given a really nice, larger Tumi bag by the 16 Barcelona hotel as a goodbye gift to haul his European clothes back home.
The housekeeper shook Liam's hand and welcomed him to the museum.
"If you'll follow me, gentlemen."
Mateo took Liam's hand and walked with him to the fourth-floor suites. The twin's suite was pointed out. The housekeeper gave him the key card for the suite next door.
The silk lanyard for the card had small letters embroidered on it. Liam looked closely and saw a little pattern of 'S' repeated in red on a white background. The card had an RFID chip embedded in it.
The suite was lovely with two bedrooms, one with a king size bed. The footman began to unpack the suitcases as Mateo gave Liam a hug.
"You will want to shower after your long flight. I'll leave you to it. Ben will be here in an hour. See you tonight, Liam. Welcome to the family."
When Ben knocked later, Liam opened the door and fell into Ben's outstretched arms. Ben took a look at him and quietly led him to the bedroom.
"Drop the towel, honey. I'm here to hold you for a while." Ben pulled back the pillows and covers and gently rubbed Liam's ass and chest. "Jump in. I'm going to shower for a minute."
When Ben came out, Liam was asleep. Ben dropped his own towel and slid in beside Liam, spooning up behind him. Little Ben smelled action but obeyed commands from big Ben to behave.
Ben, happy to see Liam rest, also slept.
When Liam awoke, he felt a rock-hard cock moving near his butt. Something back there was warm and pretty interested in him, leaking a slippery something, moving as if searching. He became alert, turned to look behind him and saw Ben smiling. Liam turned over and kissed Ben gently.
"I like what I feel. Is that you, Ben?"
"Tis I, stud."
Liam kissed him again. He whispered that he was really glad to see Ben again.
"Come lay down on top of me, Ben. No, you aren't heavy. It's nice to feel you. There was a minute on my trip when I wondered if you and I would ever talk again."
"It's like I've woken up from a nightmare within a dream. My life is so different now. From the wilted asparagus food bank life to living like a prince, a prince with benefits, no less. Do I feel your cock being restless down here?"
They kissed some more and explored each other. Ben talked about his month, his day at work, about the offer to move into the museum.
"Which suite shall I ask for, Liam?"
"I think you should live right here." That way, when we fight, you can come back here to make up."
Paulo and Mateo had a long discussion in their suite about forming a group of shared lovers. They both had similar feelings about Liam and Ben. They did, however, have slightly different perspectives from which to view a group. Paulo, of the two, analyzed tasks and outcomes for a living. His orientation at work included the analysis of conflict of interest.
He told Mateo that decisions about very large amounts of money could be affected by personal entanglements. Mateo, disappointed, argued the point briefly, but fully understood the ethical and practical point. Paulo preferred to keep his life simple and direct.
Mateo, on the other hand, was a lover first and foremost. He didn't work outside the museum, wasn't responsible for much of anything at the moment, and didn't have a fiduciary relationship to an organization or other customer.
The twins agreed to Paulo's solution, which was for Mateo to work out his relationship to Liam and Ben. At the same time, Mateo told Paulo that he also valued his personal time with him, his twin. Paulo looked at him for a few minutes.
"What are you telling me, bro?"
"I want to... "
"I do too."
They emerged a couple of hours later for a swim in the pool, a short swim with Paulo herding Mateo back and forth, rinsing together in the pool shower with the door locked, warming up in the sauna, Mateo's slightly tender ass winking a welcome, Paulo's cock signaling the post-Civil war slogan that 'the South will rise again'. In Paulo's case, the South rose, went into battle, fired its main gun, and was not defeated.
Mateo once again wondered why they had waited so long to get acquainted better. His brother was a lover all right. Half-Colombian, the brooding passion, the intense drive, the sensuous skill. Half-Scot, the inherited baseball bat, the brawn, the stamina, the matter-of-fact driller.
Next time Mateo would see Paulo and raise him. Mateo was a quick study and wondered if Paulo's moves might be related to what Paulo wanted himself and perhaps was longing to give to the group through Mateo. At this point, Mateo wanted his brother all to himself however.
It was Paulo that had the talk with Liam and Ben. "Mateo and I talked about us being a group. That sounds pretty exciting, At the same time I need to make the best decisions about your funds and my personal life is a part of me. I'm still human. There is always a chance, though small, that a conflict could arise and neither of us want that. We both have a goal of keeping your funds stable and growing at the same time."
"It's best if Mateo and you two pursue the group relationship if you decide without me. You need to know that if you pursue the throuple, that's fine with me. I would ask that you allow, however, a V form of a throuple for Mateo and I. We have become close."
"I guess this is the time for me as his brother to ask you not to hurt him," Paulo continued.
"I care for him a great deal not only as my brother, but as, well, a lover. Neither of us have met our biological mother and our bio dad died the day before we were born. Our 'adopted' great-grandmother Carol passed away when we were little; we barely remember her. My 'adopted' grand-dads whose names I share are gone now."
"Brent's dad, Robert is still alive. "He's our 'adopted' grandfather in England. Grandpa Jerry passed on a few years ago. Grandma Olive passed when we were ten or so. We are not strangers to the concept of loss, but familiar with it... My only living flesh and blood is my brother, Mateo."
"Relationships are pretty dear to both of us. I can't give Mateo to you. That's his decision as an adult. I can share him with you as an adult, but it's just me and him in our suite. I cannot see another intimate lover other than my own brother, as strange as some see even that." "
"There won't be a door between our suites... for our privacy and yours."
"If you can live with that, I can. Liam and Ben, you have to know that I love you both. I wouldn't let another guy sink his cock into my twin brother without me if I didn't."
Liam felt a little embarrassed. He had assumed something without checking with all concerned and thinking it through. It made him a little angry with himself and, for a fleeting moment, at Paulo for his decision, but his brain told him that his admiration for the strong and upfront guy would take care of the bump in their road.
He told himself he wanted that kind of a guy managing his money.
Then he did a little more internal cross-talk and made a mental note to think of others as he considered his own needs and wants before his daily exercise of leaping to conclusions.
Mateo knocked on his door the next day. Ben had gone to work.
"Hey, muffin, I hear Paulo gave you guys his take yesterday..."
"Yeah, I am clear about his position. Don't blame him after thinking about it."
"Ben OK?"
"I think so," Liam replied. "He was cheerful enough this morning when he left, although a warm soapy shower with a friend might have been responsible for that."
"I wanted to see you myself this morning. Will you have a minute?"
"Sure. What ya got in mind?"
"Tons. For starters, a hug. But some business also. Want to hear?"
"What have you found out?"
"I contacted a top tax planner here in the city and a great accountant from Schuyler Accounting. They can meet us here in a conference room this afternoon at two p.m. if you agree."
"Let's do it."
"As far as a Certified Financial Planner goes, I, like Paulo, see a possibility of conflict if I volunteer or get paid, either one, to do the job. I plan all sorts of fun things with you and don't want any of it to interfere with your financial well-being or cast any shadows on our love life either."
"I asked a great CFP that works for me to meet us this afternoon with the tax planner and the accountant to form your financial advisory team. We'll conference live with Bob and Paulo from there."
"On a personal note, you look good enough to eat this morning. Did you eat breakfast or Ben or both this morning?"
"Both, Mateo."
"Are you up to spend some time with me this morning?"
"You're on."
"I was hoping you would be on... "
The 'do not disturb' sign went on the door and Andrew smiled as he passed the suite that morning. Seeing that sign brought back some pretty great memories.
That morning, Liam made love to Mateo. He fucked him nearly senseless. With the passion of the newcomer and the sight of Mateo's wet, smooth, nearly hairless slender ass in view and with the slight assistance of a product new to him called Fuck Water, he decided there wasn't a better way to spend his time or considerable energy. Sorting envelopes did things for one's body.
Mateo thought he might have created a monster, but this one felt so good he forgot to be scared. Liam filled his tank with premium on many levels.