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The Schuyler Fortune VI: A Throuple of Bums-13
The guy smiled, stuck out his hand, and their hands met with a 'snap'. The shock of static electricity surprised both of them. Theirs eyes locked on to each other and Jon laughed with a gentle bass rumble. He helped Connor up and began to brush him off.
"I'm Jon Smith. I take it you are Connor..."
"Uh, yeah, I think so..." Everyone laughed, and the party swirled on except for Jon who wasn't about to leave his side.
"I don't usually have that effect on people, I promise. Do you need to sit down for a minute in the other salon? Perhaps some water?"
"Sure. I'll drink to that."
Jon looked into Connor's eyes still. Those honest, clear eyes were looking steadily back into his own and he recognized something different, something more than the average, brief male eye contact. There was a message coming his way. Had he been able to hear it, it would have said, "Love me, man. Stick with me forever."
Jon asked, "What brings you to Britain?"
"I'm taking a breather from work in Virginia. What are you..."
"I'm a Consultant, just starting, in Radiology here in London. I'm starting a private practice."
"Do you have any time...?"
Jon said he had the next two weeks before he had to start work.
"I'm traveling to Scotland tomorrow on the night train, Jon. I've a berth for two and am traveling by myself. Wanna come?"
Jon drew back a bit and pursed his lips. After a long consideration lasting exactly two seconds: "Yes, I'd love to."
The men met at the train station a little early and they drank coffee together before boarding. The night train from London Euston station to Mallaig, Scotland took 12 hours. Connor handed Jon his ticket for which he had paid a fabulous sum and a gift to a counter agent as well.
Connor had asked the concierge to obtain expensive men's silk pajamas, two pair, different sizes, which brought a grin to the concierge on duty's face, a cheeky twenty-year old 'concierge-in-waiting' type.
"Hmm, he said, "We men aim to please. What color do you want, guv? Both angel white?" The student giggled. Connor smiled, raised his eyebrows and did his best Mae West upward eye roll. He drew a little closer to the young man and whispered the color. Then they caught the desk clerk's eye and grew serious.
"If you have these by noon for me here, all wrapped, I'll have a hundred euro note in an envelope for you."
"Cor, lumme, you isn't half serious about this bloke, is yer?"
"He's good looking and a nice guy. Dreamy really."
"That's a good begin, that. Ees a lucky man."
On arrival in their berth, Connor handed the gift-wrapped package to Jon and flushed.
"I, uh, got you a present. Don't feel like you have to..."
The package had been ripped open by then with strong hands and the fire-engine red silk pajamas were hanging from Jon's hands, accompanied by a serious, questioning look. Connor's heart sank.
"I wasn't planning to wear anything to bed on this trip and hoped pajamas weren't required..."
His words were cut off by a deep kiss and gentle slap to his butt, a hard lump pressed against his, both lost in the other's personal scent, sandalwood on Jon's skin mixing nicely with a light lemon fragrance on Connor's neck.
"No clothes are required, big boy, but consequences attach, doc. Flaunting this handsome thing in my face without a cover might be one of the buttons you push at your own 'peril'.
Engaged in more skin contact, one of them shoved the tickets and passports out from behind the door when the conductor knocked The train official ignored the heavy breathing, bumping and giggling behind the door and refrained from asking questions and his usual speech to new passengers.
He handed the punched tickets and passports back and laughed to himself, remembering his friskier days as a teenager.
They emerged for supper in the dining car, ate and disappeared back to the berth, now tidy with the beds made up now, previously scattered clothing neatly folded or hung up, all signs of previous passion difficult to see.
"Jon, let's snuggle in one bunk and see if we fit."
"Great idea. I should think we could make a pass at it."
"Boost me up, sailor. Not there! I'm a respectable man, I really am..."
"I'll take that under advisement." said Jon, "There's a blood test I could draw to check for a 'respectability level'. Want me to draw blood for the lab?" No needle, but I guess fangs would suffice.
"You can take an x-ray anyway."
"Then you shall be x-rayed. That's a button us radiologists respond well to. It causes a shiver in the nether regions near the region of the wallet. Move over, Connor. Prepare to repel boarders."
"Do you plan to man the torpedo."
"I'll man mine, you man yours, lover."
"I give you permission to call me that all night long."
"Do Americans talk this way to everyone they meet or is this just you?"
"You're expected to talk like this in general conversation to everyone you meet. It's polite. We gave up saying 'Your Majesty' some years ago but we still talk dirty. It's how it's done."
"Speaking of torpedoes, Connor. Am I going to sink you or vice-versa?"
"I'm prepared. I did my disaster drill this morning. You may fire when you are ready, Gridley. Oh...that wasn't a war you fought in, was it? That was Admiral Dewey speaking to Captain Gridley on the Admiral's flagship in the Battle of Manila Bay in 1898. May 1, to be precise."
Jon told him he was taking aim.
"Hearts of oak, thews of yew, Jon."
"Batten the hatches, Connor...well, not entirely."
"I shan't mutiny, ossifer."
"This isn't a good time to laugh, Connor. I'm trying to keep a stiff upper lip."
"I'm keeping you stiff all night, lover, and it won't be your lip. Oooooooooh." Connor felt a breach in his defenses.
"Shhhhh...I'm trying to do my duty here."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm trying to figure out some Shakespeare while you work, Jon. What is that line? Uneasy...unnh...lies the head...Oh God...that wears...oh, fuck...a crown..."
"Don't tell me you're thinking of the bard at a time like this."
"I'm not. I'm just trying to cope with the baseball bat you just jammed up my..." A man's palm closed over Connor's mouth and the man who owned it began to pump, a wonderfully controlled pumping at first, then at the last a thrilling internal pumping of semen which made his muscles first tighten and then contract, forcing his breath out and a tiny bit of his heart as he collapsed on to Connor's sticky chest. Jon went into a lip lock with Connor that lasted some time.
Connor's backside was a little sore the next morning at breakfast on arrival at Mallaig. They toured the bogs, the wild green heather and quaint white houses in the middle of somewhere, a pub or two, ate lunch and they headed back to London that night. Jon looked at him quietly and said he wanted to talk. Connor's heart sank again.
"Connor, I hate to tell you this, but we have to fuck again now. This time, you are going to bore into me, however. It's only fair, the British way, you know."
Connor brightened right up. "OK."
"Today sometime, please. I'll only be in the mood for a few more minutes, mind you."
"Oooooooooh. The wee one's in a hurry. Brings up the time I, it was in Alaska, I think, when under the slopes of Mt. Denali, I saw a bear in the woods with two cubs, or was it three of the little varmints, eating fish or something similar, standing by a stream of cold water. It must have been cold because there was at least, let me see, a foot of snow but I was wearing muk-luks which...but I could be confusing that trip with the trip to Nepal one winter where..."
"Pressing our luck, aren't we?"
"Testing your patient patience."
"Do me...now," Jon growled as he gritted his teeth and scowled.
Connor turned him over front down. "Oh, look here!" Connor was licking Jon's balls and cock both nested on the sheet down behind his ass.
"How do you like your eggs, doc? I like them a lot."
By then, he realized that the time for talking was over. He faced his anxious heart first and realized he had placed a burden on himself by deciding it was somehow terribly important that he please his lover.
He took Jon into his arms and told Jon he wanted that.
"Will you show me what feels good to you, Jon? Teach me to give you the kind of pleasure you gave me."
A splendid teacher. An eager student. Scent. Affection. Taste. Suction. Possession. Tension. Possession. Pumping release. Intense pleasure. Two men close together.
Two men, both pleased with their work.
They slept afterward, speeding south somewhere in southern Scotland.
As the train sped through the night, they both awoke by turns for a few moments at different moments, both thinking how great it would be to be together for longer than just a little while...before drifting asleep again.
They lay curved against each other, their natural body heat enough for comfort with just a sheet over them, Connor's face buried in the back of John's neck. Neither had worn the silk pajamas.
When Jon's back was turned the next morning, Connor scooped both pairs up and packed them in his suitcase. Jon, once off the train, looked at Connor and told him that for virgins, they hadn't done half bad.
"I'm staying at the Savoy. Any chance you could spend some time with me for as long as you can? A simple 'yes' or 'no' would suffice, Connor. Don't overthink it."
"Yes."
"See how easy that was? Our taxi awaits." They entered the black old-fashioned taxi and were driven to the landmark hotel."
Over room service in Jon's room, Connor learned that Jon was adopted, from Liverpool originally, had a little brother working in the City, no sisters, mom had passed and dad working away as a printer, setting 'type' on a computer now.
"He worked hard to get us to and through school."
Jon learned that Connor was the son of a bricklayer from California, now the CFO of a large mysterious academic Institute associated with the Schuyler trust, that he had just been given five acres of land to build a house on, which project he hadn't had time to begin, that he had access to the outside world by helicopter and a Gulfstream 650-ER, a nearly unlimited travel budget, and 3 plus months of vacation.
The two men took side trips on the Eurostar to Paris during the next few days which consumed a little over two hours. The TGV Lyria from Paris to Geneva consumed another three hours, and they splashed in the Mediterranean at Barcelona, and finally took the ferry from Rotterdam to London, back to the Savoy, becoming better friends.
They became comfortable with each other's occasional silences.
Jon and Connor always found a good conversation eventually, went to the theater, shopped in Savile Row, and walked down Harley Street to see Jon's new office.
The two weeks flew by. The night before departure Jon told Connor how much he would miss him and began to cry in his arms.
"I'm not sure I can do without you, Connor."
"I won't forget you, Jon. I love you. We'll find our way."
Neither liked to say goodbye, so after breakfast the hotel porter took the luggage down to the limousine and Jon embraced Connor, turned, and walked away without looking back.
Connor watched until he couldn't see him anymore and was driven to London City airport to meet Blueberry for the trip back to Dulles. On arrival, he had already spent time thinking about his lover back in England and the future, if any, they might share.
The Institute's board met in regular session four days later and there were reports to generate and questions to answer. He met with Mason and double-checked ledgers and invoices and bank accounts.
They looked at budget categories, pleased to note that the month had ended showing spending short of budget by eight percent, income from the fund about on target for the year, long-term liabilities fully funded, a few payroll glitches repaired by the payroll company.
The board voted approval and Joseph thanked Jack and Connor and Mason for their accurate work. Jack presented the academic program, briefly noting the struggle to work out the details and thanking Joseph for his assistance in easing that work.
The Campus Manager presented a summary of employment progress with the HR director assisting. Risk management noted a concern that the Campus had no real power to block disruptive students and was partly reassured by Campus security that efforts to identify any that might arrive were ongoing.
Joseph observed that they would learn from incidents as they arose.
"We don't have to be concerned about losing funding as other institutions might with unpleasant publicity. We're able to survive negative publicity."
"We're prepared for demonstrations at the gate and prepared to hold the Campus secure with all thanks to Teresa, our good neighbor and friend from Oregon who provided us with a program to manage demonstrations."
"Our Achilles heel is sabotage of our computer system and contamination (hardly likely) of our food and water supply by the opposition who so far are not focused on us according to my sources."
Joseph went on. "We back up our computers constantly to a cloud not connected to the Internet. The multiple copies of our data are monitored as they flow back and forth to the Campus by a supercomputer that checks for viruses, double-checks file sizes and types and keeps track of who adds what to the system and when they do it."
"That same computer is keeping track of the several thousand threats in this area. Are they currently jailed? It reads their organizations web sites, their social media sites and analyzes their public plans. Are they working? Have any of them had suspicious deposits recently?"
"Our supercomputer does a lot of expensive data mining to monitor these threats."
"In spite of all the monitoring in the world, stuff happens. The computer that can read hearts and minds hasn't been invented. We will take our lumps as they arrive and survive. We are fortunate to have resources to rebuild when trouble arrives."
Joseph continued. "It's not if, but when it arrives."
"Worrying about threats can paralyze an institution to the detriment of pursuing their mission. We'll let our security personnel do their thing and react when the time comes."
Before the board ended that morning, a representative from the University reported on the graduate students and their projects.
"Nine of our ten students have submitted proposals for their thesis to their advisors. The tenth may have to drop out of school."
"His grades are OK, but his grandfather passed away and that individual was his school funding source. He can apply for funding from the endowment and will probably get that funding, but it won't apply until next semester and he isn't sure how he'll meet his obligations in the intervening 4 months or so."
Joseph told him he didn't want to set a precedent and didn't want to lose the student either. He turned to Connor.
"Does the budget have twenty-thousand dollars to spare?"
"Yes. It would comfortably take the expense and for that matter, without creating a precedent, totally outside their contract, the graduate students could all probably use some extra funds during the school year. Just saying."
"Great idea, Connor. If the board agrees, I move we transfer funds to the students' next paychecks this month and notify them that it's coming as a bonus for work well done this year only to prevent student decisions that might negatively affect them and us for any issues regarding lack of funds. It occurs that their success is ours in a lot of ways," said Joseph.
The board voted approval.
"I am happy to report to the board that the private bill instructing the FAA to include a tower at our Campus jetport and authorizing FAA personnel to staff it round the clock as an experimental Federal-private enterprise partnership has been approved by Congress and the legislation signed at the White House."
"The funds for construction will be paid by the Schuyler trust, not the Campus budget and the FAA budget will pay for the personnel ongoing." We anticipate construction beginning in three months."
Joseph continued his report. "In addition, the vendor for the runway electronic system (ILS)localizer transmitter and glide-slope transmitter will be starting work next week. Our system has been manufactured and shipped to our hangar. The runway and taxiway lighting systems are also in the hangar and the vendor will begin work this month."
"One large obstacle to further progress is that the outer, middle, and inner marker beacons are usually located at intervals up to seven nautical miles from the end of the runway and we don't have land long enough to place them. We can get a 99-year lease if the adjacent property owner will agree to that or we can attempt to purchase the adjacent property. While GPS systems are replacing marker beacons to indicate glide slope entry points, the backup of the marker beacons in the case of GPS failure in the presence of poor visibility is nice to fall back on."
The owner of the properties that adjoin ours that would include the outer, middle and inner markers is Mrs. Olivia James, widow of Retired Sergeant Red 'Devil' James, USAF, a recently deceased veteran of the military and now lung cancer.
Born in Cornwall and raised in Liverpool, Mrs. James is suing the hospital down the road and the doctor that mis-read her husband's x-ray. The trial is stalled because the local good-old-doctor network has clammed up and she can't find an expert to testify at trial.
Connor started coughing and couldn't stop. Joseph stopped speaking and frowned.
"Is there water available?"
"No, no, excuse me..." Connor began to laugh and cry at the same time. "I'm sorry, I need a minute...then fled the room.
Joseph followed him out of the room. "I'll be right back--take a five-minute break, guys?"
"What's going on?"
Joseph's kind voice restored some measure of sanity to his mind and Connor began to explain. "I think your marker problem may be solved."
Interested, Joseph listened patiently.
"I just got back from England, Joseph. I met a guy over there and we are, became close. He is a radiologist just starting out in private practice in London on Harley Street. His name is Jon Smith and he's adopted. He was raised in Liverpool."
"I'd really like to see him again. I'd be willing to ask him to talk with her. Who knows? He might testify for her. It might be worth a chance. I have to tell you of my own bias here, however. I may be too involved to be objective."
"I don't want to use your relationship just to further Campus objectives, Connor. If you decide to go ahead with this idea, don't ask permission, just do it. If you decide not to, we'll solve it some other way, no peril to you. Period."
Connor was on Blueberry within four hours, bound for London City airport from Dulles.
Jon had a man in his room at the Savoy. There was a knock at the door, he opened it, and took the man into his arms for a long hug. The door hadn't closed completely.
Another man stood at the door looking into the room, his face pale, drawn, and angry.
Jon saw his face, recognized him, his own face in shock and knew what Connor must be thinking. He giggled, nervous now, and grabbed the first man again and gave him a soulful kiss on the lips, his eyes fixed on Connor. The first guy, a shorter version of Jon, drew back and wiped his mouth. "What in the hell! Stop it!"
Connor pushed into the room. "It didn't take you long, did it? Was I just another fuck?"