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This One Might Be Different: Different-Chapter 10
At this point it looked like Chocolate and Vanilla Abbot were the beneficiaries of the Alain trust along with Chris Brewster. The problem was similar to that hinted to in the aphorism, "Too many cooks spoil the stew."
All three of them had a different idea of what directions the spending ought to take and in what quantities. The trust didn't specify a senior member of that troika. After a difficult year and after all three finally recognized that the useful purpose was possible with the present structure of the trust, the three decided to consult trust attorneys to see if a reasonable outcome was possible shy of mayhem and murder of each other.
Chocolate and Chris really didn't care about management.
Vanilla did and had the 'balls' to take the Alain spending under control. The final accommodations reached and written into the trust agreements were that Chocolate and Chris would each receive 30% of the cash generated by the Alain trust each year in monthly installments. Vanilla would get the remaining 40% for her share which included her tight control of spending and management 'fee'. The three could will those same percentage figures to any offspring or even donate it to charity or each other upon disability or death, nearly total freedom to do what they wished with their share...everything but wrest back control of the trust.
All three were delighted with John and Jayden's work investing the immense amounts of money that Alain Industries generated. None were under any illusion that they could somehow do better or hire anyone else that could manage their money for better earnings.
Vanilla knew that her dad had hand-picked John and Jayden for the work. Her own purchases were limited to her needs. She didn't own a private jet or a superyacht or an expensive auto or fabulous jewelry. Possessions weren't her thing. Living in the moment was her passion. She wasn't a do-gooder but loved putting a hundred monthly bus/subway passes in her pockets, putting on her shades and ratty clothes and going on a mission, security discretely somewhere in sight.
Vanilla's schtick was a look at people's faces at the second they realized that some unexpected grace had fallen their way...a recapitulation of her own feeling when she inherited the huge amount from her father. Vanilla had never been poor. To boot, she had always expected grace someday with eagerness... but until it happened, it hadn't happened. She had wondered what it would be like to never expect it and then receive out of the blue, so to speak.
She had, in contrast, missed out on the rewards of stepping from a bad place to a better place suddenly. She watched people get on the bus or subway who were disabled or struggled to find the money for fare...and handed them a monthly pass just as she was stepping off the line. She then took a mental snapshot of their face and left with a smile on her face, not recognized. At age 12 she was in neither a police database nor a press database.
These facts did not interfere with or influence her security detail. They had orders from the trust security offices to focus strictly on their principal person, Vanilla. In the year or so of their experience she had been pleasant, compliant, firm, and cooperative.
Unlike Mr. Clayton Rogers, now ensconced in his Alaskan maximum-security cell. Unlike Mr. Roger's roommate, Aloy Belker, sent up from Ketchikan for killing his lover and husband, Bill Belker. Aloy and Clayton had clashed initially, a real Alaskan versus the quiet East Coast man, but Aloy recognized Clayton to be a man who made connections easily and remembered them.
Mr. Rogers had lost very few of his outside friends from his move to another facility. The prison communications system had little to do with electronics. Promises and threats worked at any distance and there was no shortage of message couriers in his world.
Clayton was fully aware of the Schuyler Trust and the Alain Trust, knew Vanilla and Chocolate's names, Chris's name and family details and had some idea of their net worth. Mr. Rogers had assets at Teterboro, at major cities around the country and some foreign capitals as well. In various companies and governmental agencies were all kinds of people with many backgrounds who reported in when asked, because they were friends of friends, or afraid of his friends, had been paid by his friends...in some cases had already lost friends or family resisting.
Aloy and Clayton were in a men's prison. There were few female guards and those had husbands or partners for the most part. The two roommates had a standing agreement not to force each other for their needs. They negotiated an arrangement where they slept together every third night or so, sometimes more often. Aloy was an aggressive top, Clayton, in spite of his powerful business interests outside and inside the facility, craved a strong top to scratch his itches. One night after an imaginative evening of scratching itches, Clayton told Aloy there was money to be made somewhere and he was working on it.
Aloy wasn't sure what the fuck that had to do with his cock up inside Clayton that night, but he did like money. In the shower that night he might have mentioned the subject to a few inmates.
They talked to their cell mates and the circle widened. Before long the warden found out something big was going down and brought a special services team in to wire Clayton's cell.
The team heard evening moans they could have predicted and conversation they were fascinated to pass on to the Schuyler and Alain trust security departments... something about kidnapping a 12-year-old girl for ransom.
That very night, guards dropped by Clayton and Aloy's cell, asked them politely to get dressed, drove them out of the prison to a local airport where they were loaded on to a private jet headed southeast from Alaska. A prison guard accompanied the shackled men silently, not serving the luxury amenities ordinarily provided. The only meal provided was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a Pepsi.
When the Gulfstream reached Miami-Opa Locka Executive airport, an open-sided helicopter was waiting and both men were asked to strip and loaded on to the copter. They were not belted or chained or roped in but sat in low plastic chairs by the open doors.
The helicopter swung out over the nearby Everglades and south a distance to where the python and alligator populations were as plentiful as they could be living together.
From a distance of some 300 feet, the men were forcefully ejected from the helicopter, falling screaming into tangles of hungry alligators far below who slowly approached the broken, still living men who were to provide the crunch for their supper. A week later, only ants feasted on the few remains when only a faint odor of peanut butter was left over.
Chocolate Abbot found through life that his name was a conversation-stopper. He didn't have a lot of friends although his private school had other rich boys whose families were used to the same perks he had. The problem was distance. None of them lived next door so he didn't have the 'neighbor kid next door friendship' and none lived in the same t, so he didn't go to the high school football games either. He knew no one else with his first name.
His life was what it was, and he had food, shelter, love from two dads, and other adult friends. He liked his step-brother Chris and his family. but they were not the same age. His favorite activity was watching soccer on TV. His goal in life was to see a Real Madrid-Barca game in person someday; failing that, he decided he could die happy after seeing, in person, any game that Liverpool played.
Chocolate memorized stats for those teams, history, stars, prominent games, team culture...soccer was his schtick.
Robert Parker knew that his family had money trouble. His dad had been unable to pay for specialist care for his mom five years ago and she had died. He didn't know how much difference it might have made but his dad had been vocal about the lack of money. He had no brothers or sisters and worked part-time in a news shop/book store near Piccadilly. He liked school, having no end of reference materials at work.
The Times ran a contest for new young poets the year he turned 13, he entered after chewing one end of a pencil one winter and writing down his thoughts and was astonished to win 2nd prize, 50 pounds. He celebrated with his dad after giving his dad half and keeping half the prize.
The next day his dad was out of money and a truth dawned on Robert that money in their house was probably low because his dad spent it quickly on something. Whatever that was, he didn't know.
He was certain his mom had paid for his dad's spending ways with her life.
Robert continued to write poetry, sometimes winning prizes. His English teacher encouraged him to get a book of teen poetry published and to his teacher's satisfaction, the book did well.
"You need to celebrate a little," his teacher told him. "You know, go to a soccer game or something."
Many years later, Robert had reason to be grateful for the advice. He had needed to spend some money on himself. The guy sitting next to him spilled beer on his pants, apologized and offered to pay to clean the pants. The guy looked Robert, looked away, then looked back into Robert's eyes.
"On second thought," the guy went on, "come with me after the game and we'll get this fixed quickly. I have a ride."
Robert liked the guy and was surprised to be surrounded by a group of tall, burly guys in suits around them, clearing their way out of the stadium to a large black SUV in the middle of three similar SUVs.
This beat the bus for ambience, he thought. "I'm Robert Parker." He offered his hand.
"I'm Chocolate Abbot."
"Please stop and let me out."
"Did I offend you, Robert?"
"No, I'm a strawberry man, myself."
Chocolate began to smile. "Chocolate trumps strawberry any day of the year. Driver... keep on going. You think my name is strange. My sister's name is Vanilla. May I ask you a personal question?"
"Can I say no?"
"You have beautiful eyes..."
"It's a genetic thing."
"I'm in England on business for another month...want to hang out."
Robert had never 'hung out' with anyone ever. He thought it might be fun.
"What exactly do you mean by the phrase 'hang out'?
"Get acquainted...see stuff...talk...listen to music...play games...plan world peace...or domination, whichever suits..."
"Say you'll clean my pants from stadium beer and you're on."
"Almost forgot. Of course. We're here."
The line of SUVs pulled up in front of a home in London that might have been a palace in another era. Everyone exited into the house. A butler and housekeeper stood at the door to welcome Chocolate and his guest. "Mary," said Chocolate, "please have the valet attend Robert in his quarters. He'll hopefully be staying for a month. Please notify Cook."
"Yes, Mr. Abbot. By the way, Peter is the footman on call tonight."
The valet took his beer-stained trousers away after bringing him a suitable replacement. "Dinner at 7," the valet said, "I shall alert you 30 minutes before to meet in the salon."
"We dress in black tie for dinner and I'll have your clothing ready in your size by 6 pm"
The pleasant servitude implied lasted for the month, then Chocolate asked Robert to stay another month, then a year and after that a lifetime. The two boys grew into their late teens, then to manhood, each comfortable with the other, brought family to their friendship, and literally didn't suffer for love nor money. Holidays and birthdays were spent at their enormous mansion on the 20,000-acre ranch in Wyoming. It was there that Robert turned 21.
That very night, Chocolate knocked on Robert's door. announced that he was cold and asked if he could jump in bed with Robert who, half asleep, threw back the duvet. "Jump in, oh cold one!"
Robert woke the next morning to a naked, sleepy version of Mr. Chocolate Abbot warm against his back, a large, hard cock pressed against his nether parts, an arm over Robert's chest, and a hand scrabbling in Robert's chest hair absently.
"Do you mind if I touch you, Robert?"
"Not at all. It feels really good. I like your cock against my ass. Are you going anywhere particular this morning or is your cock?"
"It wants to be inside you, Robert."
"I say it deserves the chance, don't you?"
"Kiss me, fool."
Robert turned over. "I was hoping you'd ask. Are you gay or something?"
"I didn't think so, but with you I get pretty excited."
"I can tell," said Robert. "There are certain clues, the biggest of which is digging in like it wants to burrow."
Robert grasped said clue gently and rocked his hand up and down Chocolate's white shaft. "How does that feel?"
Chocolate hissed with pleasure. His tongue ran across Robert's and began to pry Robert's lips open. Robert took the hint and opened his mouth for Chocolate's querying tongue and received a pretty nice query.
Robert queried back gently, noting the jolt of pleasure in his cock which had already become sensitive and larger.
His brain told him he couldn't believe what was happening, but it felt too good to stop and think about. He let his thought processes go to suspend mode and his brain was receiving a lot of sensory input.
'How come we waited so long to do this?' thought Robert. He smells so good. It's probably his Prada Carbon. I could lay here and feel his sweet breath on my face for a week.
He's touching my ass, no, not just touching, he's caressing the round globes. That's his finger feeling down my crack. That's his other hand cupping my balls. He's licking my nipples. Oh, that tickles.
Chocolate picked up Robert's arms and pinned them to the pillow after turning him on his back. Chocolate mounted him and thrust his tongue into Robert's pits and began to wash and taste them.
They weren't dirty, but Chocolate had dreamed of sampling them at close range for several years. Robert felt oddly excited by Chocolate's passion for his smell.
Chocolate dismounted and quickly turned around over Robert. He opened his mouth and took in Robert's cock. The heat, the moisture, the electric pleasure caused Robert to gasp. Robert looked up and saw Chocolate's cock and ass in front of his face.
Robert didn't hesitate. He did what comes natural to men then, taking it in his mouth carefully, lips over his teeth, and sucked a little, then a lot more, taking Chocolate's cock deep in and out.
After a minute or two, Robert looked up again and saw Chocolate's hole in reach. It was clean and he didn't see any hairs. He took a tentative lick over the hole, didn't taste anything, smelled some musk, then decided to make his tongue firm and poked his tongue into Chocolate's hole. That activity made Chocolate groan and move his soft ass into Robert's face.
Chocolate once again dismounted and moved to place himself between Robert's legs.
"Hey there, sweetheart," Chocolate heard himself say. Somewhere in the back of his brain, he asked himself where that came from. Who had called him that...maybe Charley, his dad, when he was a little kid? He leaned over and kissed Robert tenderly then whispered into Robert's ear.
"Robert, I'm going to make love to you. I might get a little out of control here, I'm pretty excited. You turn me on big-time... hold on for the ride, lover."
"I'm here, Chocolate. Use me. I won't break. I want you too, stud."
A gush of pre-cum showed up at Chocolate's cock-tip about then and he was lost in sensation, his mind and body preparing to come soon.
Chocolate instinctively wet Robert's asshole with his tongue. They had no other lube beside Chocolate's pre-cum. Chocolate brought his cock-tip to touch Robert's asshole, which trembled just a little before slowly opening to welcome the tip.
Robert bit his lip a little and wondered if Chocolate liked what he felt.
Chocolate kept pushing and waiting and pushing again until he felt he was balls deep and couldn't proceed further. He waited for Robert to respond. Robert finally opened his eyes and smiled at Chocolate.
"I'm good. I feel so full. Fuck my ass, Chocolate."
Two white bodies, neither tanned, writhed together, in and out, wringing every drop of passion and sensation out, faster and if possible deeper, their cries mingling. "Work it, Chocolate. Take me hard."
"Robert, you are mine now, man. I own this ass."
"I know, stud. Take it and fuck me harder. I love you."
At that, Chocolate felt he was at the point of no return. "Oh God, I'm going to come," he yelled. "Oh, sweet fucking...I'm coming!"
Robert imagined he could feel Chocolate's cock throbbing, jumping, and squirting hot cum in his ass and spurted his own cum between them, "Oh Choc...You're my stud."
From that moment on during the days that followed, all of the footmen, their valet, their driver and their cowboys and farm workers noticed a change that only men notice about man to man relationships.
In public, the two didn't hang on each other, but their eyes were constantly watching and assessing the other, they laughed together, they flirted without knowing it and sometimes knowing it. It wasn't discussed a lot, but their workers knew Robert belonged to Chocolate.
The housekeeper noticed the change but wasn't sure. Cook saw everything but ignored most things out of her kitchen. What every other person on the ranch didn't know... and never would... was how Chocolate got his nickname, 'Choc'.
The new name sparkled with intimacy. It begged any listener to understand the new close tie... no one but Robert called him 'Choc'. He never called him anything else. Only one other ever called Chocolate 'Choc'.
When a 20-year-old impossibly handsome, impossibly built, and haltingly shy cowboy of theirs named James Dunn joined them in bed a few years later, and when all three married each other, 'Jim' became the second and only other man to call him 'Choc'.
James had helped to organize the Cowboy's Picnic that year, turned the beef over the cowboy grille and helped to serve the meat and beans and corn bread, Robert and Choc had to work to avoid drooling. The food was only part of the effect, they agreed afterward.
The guy was breathtaking. His bull package was too large to be real. His muscles and his ass, built from hard work roping calves, pulled their eyes to him.
"I saw you looking at James tonight."
"I saw you taking a peek too, Robert."
"I wonder..."
"I wondered the same thing."
"Do you want to... "
"We could ask him, Choc. I know you love me and don't want anyone else to replace me. At the same time, variety is a spice for any dish, my man. Anything we learn from another man will give us ideas and inspiration for ourselves. I vote you ask him if you want to, stud."
"Bring him to us, Choc."
Chocolate pondered how and was walking in the horse barns one day when he turned a corner and saw James sitting on a bale of hay, head in his hands.
"Hey, what gives?"
James jumped up, "Getting my breath, boss. I was wondering if I would ever have a man. You and Robert have each other and I just about decided I never would. I'm close to upset about it."
"Can I talk to you about something personal, James."
"Shoot. You're the boss."
"Robert and I have been talking about opening up our relationship, bringing another to our bed and who knows, maybe someday to our life for good. My dad was gay, James, and he had two husbands to love."
"Lucky man."
"Yeah. You interested in coming over to the house about 8 this evening to talk... or something?"
"If you want, ask for Lance at the front door (he's the footman on call tonight). I'll tell him you might drop by. No need to shower at the bunkhouse, just show up. We'll all shower together first anyway. Don't be afraid, we don't bite unless you ask us to."
James' expression was first astonishment then a wide grin. "I'd like that, boss. I pretty sure I would."
"Drop the 'boss' thing for now. This isn't related to your job. You work here. Whether you drop by or not, you work here."
"Gotcha. Can I bring anything."
"Clean boots, no underwear, fresh breath, and any 'tools' you think you might need for the job."
"8 pm it is."
Lance answered the door at 7:55. "Come in. This way, please."
Lance led the way upstairs to a large set of double doors, knocked, listened, and motioned James to enter after announcing 'Mr. James Dunn.'
Chocolate and Robert were reading in large chairs in a corner. They stood and walked to James. Chocolate formally introduced James to Robert.
"James, Robert and I have been a couple for a few years. We met you at the Cowboy Picnic and hoped you might be interested in joining us.
"Let's see if you like us and find out if you are the person for us as well. You are the first and hopefully the only person we 'interview' this way."
"You already pass the good-looking test, the 'he's built' test and as for the shy part, that's an endearing part of any human, unless it is shy in bed. We're looking for someone who is still learning but not at all shy about being naked, someone who loves to play with other men."
Interested in taking a whirl with us?""
"Count me in, guys."
"Let's begin with a shower. Lance has prepared our shower with warm towels and great soap. He might join in with us later."
The three men removed their clothes and entered the large walk-in shower. It was already running with perfectly warm water. James' cock hung halfway to his knees, it seemed, swinging perfectly against large balls hanging low in their sacs. His ass was hairless and muscular. His chest was large, his abdomen flat with defined abs.
His hair was long and tied back with a ribbon of cloth that he removed and then Robert and Chocolate shivered a little. James was their childhood picture of Tarzan with blonde long hair, just a little unkempt.
He possessed blue eyes, amazingly clear, and pure white sclerae. He was uncut. His legs were perfect. They saw strong calves. Robert's eyes kept flickering down to James' cock which was rising.
Robert knelt down and took James into his mouth as Chocolate began to kiss James and explore his lips and mouth.
James and Chocolate played 'shampoo the stud' and after this erotic act, a go with conditioner left his hair perfect. Robert took the soap and his hand met Chocolate's hand at James' asshole.
"Guys, I'm getting close," James said. "Any chance we could take this to the bed?"
The younger man was starting to take charge. They toweled each other dry, taking enough time to get all the wet bits dry.
"I'm going to fuck you in the ass first, Chocolate." James announced.
Chocolate took a deep breath.
"I gotta see this," said Robert. "This is a first."
Chocolate thought he might have preferred to negotiate it, but knew they had let the monster loose, kind of. His cock once again thickened. He swallowed his pride and decided he'd take it like a man.
James took a lubricant from the bedside table, spread it here and there, and then just pushed his hard monster firmly up Chocolate's ass, no condom, no rimming, just lube and a shove.
Chocolate didn't have time to yell or complain or negotiate. He just instantly felt full of cock. His instinct was to take a dump and push down so he did, but the push didn't work. James had taken his ass and was in charge of it.
"Settle down, Chocolate. Be still. When the sheep jump around, we just wait until they don't anymore and then we start working it."
Robert began to snicker a little. "Baaa."
Chocolate glared at him. "How would you feel if a log was jammed up your ass?"
"Like it was a normal day, lover."
Chocolate grumbled a little and then noted that he just felt full now without pain. "James, can you move that pole in and out maybe?"
Robert was kissing him and rubbing his back. He then heard Robert kiss James and Chocolate's sex drive went into hyper-speed. He knew what Robert did and imitated that. He flexed his pelvis and drove himself back and forth on James' cock and was glad to hear James hiss his pleasure.
"Ride me, Chocolate. Giddyap!"
Robert began to giggle, imagining a riding crop in James' hand, whipping Chocolate to great lengths. Then he imagined a gay jockey fucking and entered the hyper-speed loop himself. James leaned over and kissed Robert and when Robert stood on the bed near him, James leaned over toward Robert and sucked him so hard Robert's eyes bugged out.
James slapped Chocolate's ass hard, causing Chocolate's asshole sphincter to tighten up. The temporary pain jolted Chocolate and nicely balanced his pleasure.
Chocolate became still for a moment and just enjoyed James' thrusts. "Who told you to be still, bottom man?"
James slapped Chocolate's ass with a hard swat. Chocolate flinched. He'd never been spanked in his life and he kind of liked it.
"He's earned the right to spank me," he thought. "It's a good trade-off for the fucking pleasure he's giving me."
By now, Robert was underneath him, kissing his cock then sucking it like there was no tomorrow.
"Chocolate and I are going to fuck you together now, Robert."
James lay on his back sideways across the bed and motioned Chocolate to do the same with his ass facing James' ass so that their butts met in the middle of the bed and touched. Their cocks stuck straight up close to each other.
"Robert, sit down on both our cocks now and fuck us together."
Robert, after some maneuvering and a lot of stretching and lube, managed to get both cocks in his ass. He sat for a moment, their cocks tight deep in his ass, and then rose a few inches and sank down again, repeating that over and over again.
The intense stimulus for all three, James' and Chocolate's cocks rubbing against each other and feeling Robert's ass together, combined to bring the frenzied fuck-trio to orgasm. Each man poured out his semen, screaming in pleasure and release.
"We'll sleep now for a few hours, then perhaps call Lance in," said James. They had created a monster, but a nice one that didn't bite and besides he smelled good, looked good and he had energy to spare.
Chris and Karen became inexpressibly wealthy and their children eventually were beneficiaries in turn.
Liam and his two partners retired and spent part of their time working for the Institute in Virginia that Joseph Schuyler had begun.
Joseph died and named John and Jayden the co-beneficiaries of the Schuyler Trust, the first non-family owners of the trust. Their first purchase was a debt, oddly enough.