Date: Sun, 15 May 2005 22:26:21 -0500
From: Paul Daventon <authorpaul@mail.com>
Subject: Tourist Motor Court/cottage-court-02
TOURIST MOTOR COURT - 2
by Paul Daventon
Disclaimer
In the early part of the twentieth century, when motor vehicles
were becoming plentiful, forward thinking individuals figured that those
motorists would often want to find a place they could stay overnight to
continue their journey the next day. They didn't construct fancy motels
and inns as are frequent today. The first 'motels' usually contained a
number of small cottages near the office facing a courtyard, and were
called tourist courts.
These cottages were separated from each other by a distance for
more privacy. I, personally, remember at a very young age staying at one
of these motor courts with my parents and my sister in the late forties,
while traveling on the early Pennsylvania Turnpike. At the time I believed
it a wild exciting adventure, sleeping in a cabin-like structure away from
home..
The Motor Court of which I write is a left-over, still
functioning in the present day. I'm sure the residents are quite different
from those in the forties or earlier. Travel though time with me to see
how they wound up through there in Johnston City, a fictional city in a
work of complete fiction, all characters are fictional and do not represent
any living person.
All the usual restraints apply to this story. This story
contains male/male explicit sex. If you don't like that, or are under 18,
please leave.
* * * * *
Chapter Two
The notebook in which they were writing down their counting was
in Pete's hand when he announced, "Timmy, this is Fifty Thousand dollars.
Do you believe it? I can't"
"You don't suppose it could be counterfeit, do you?" Tim was a
little worried.
"Well, tomorrow I'll head for the bank to make sure it is real.
Now, where are we going to keep it, huh?"
Timmy soon suggested, "Couldn't we put it back where it was? It
seemed to be safe there before for quite a while."
Pete hugged Tim, "Great idea, Tim, who'd ever think of looking
there. Lets put it back and we can repair the damage to the wall.
Tomorrow, I'll go see Mr. Warren, that's Henry, and see what would happen
if we bring the money into the open. At least we'll find out if Henry is
honest or not. I think I'll say just $10,000 at first to see what he says.
If he thinks we can't keep it, at least we'll have ten thousand dollars for
us." He looked into Tim's eyes, honest and true, "Are you with me, Timmy?
"Sure, Daddy Pete," he grinned in all innocence, "are we going
to eat now. I'm hungry."
Pete noticed that they'd played away the day, dark would come
before long.
"Did you fix up cottage #1, Tim, good enough that you can sleep
there tonight?"
Tim looked a little embarrassed, he felt good anyway, "It does
need some more cleaning. I can do that quick as a bunny." Pete laughed at
Tim's metaphor, "Timmy, you are a character. I'm going to get our supper
so you wait here until I get back." He was afraid for Tim, though. "Tim,
always keep the door locked in the cottages and in this office. If someone
knocks, don't answer, just hide. I don't want anyone to see you."
"By the way, have you changed much since you left home? You
know, looks or weight or like that."
Tim gave him a mysterious look, "Pete, how does my hair look,
is it natural?"
Pete looked closely at his dark hair, "I think it looks fine."
He laughed, "What color did it used to be?"
Tim took both hands to fluff his hair, giving it a more modern
'uncombed' look. "This used to be a light blond, that should help shouldn't
it?"
"You look tanned, too, have you always had a good tan."
"Nope, Pete," the boy turned so his back face Pete, then he
pulled down his pants showing his bare, pure white buttocks. "That's what I
used to look like."
Pete couldn't bear it, he wanted to kiss those handsome
buttocks, from cheek to cheek.
"I expect you've grown, too. I've noticed your socks show
between your pant legs and shoe tops." He turned Tim around, "I think we
need to go shopping for you, you need clothes."
The smile on the boy said everything, "That'd be great, Uncle
Pete. I'll go finish with cottage #1. See you later." He waved as he left
the office.
Pete hollered, "Don't forget to lock the doors, okay?" Pete
barely heard an 'okay'.
* * * * *
The teller at the Johnston National Bank handed back the 50
dollar bill to Pete."
"Yes, sir, that sure is good money, not counterfeit at all."
The teller woman smiled at Pete, "You look familiar to me, could you tell
me your name?"
"I'm Peter Johnston, I used to live here and just moved back to
town."
She drew a big breath and gasped, "Why, you're the spittin'
image of your uncle. I suppose you came back for the funeral."
"No, ma'am, Mr. Warren couldn't find me until a few days ago.
I was way out in Ioway. I've come back to run the Johnston Motor Court,
soon as I can get it going."
"Good to see you, Pete, stop in again." The teller had already
turned to other business, not giving Pete another thought. She didn't like
the Johnstons much, too snotty.
Henry Warren's law office was on the second floor of the bank
building, so Pete went on outside, turned left into the stairs going up the
second floor.
Pete entered Mr. Warren's office but found no one. He hollered
and finally heard someone calling back from a ways away.
"Is that you, Petey?"
"Yes."
"Well, I'm awful busy right now, can you come back in the
morning?" He voice sounded sort of muffled, and he was panting a little, as
if he were exercising strenuously.
"I'd really like to see you, Henry, could I come back in a half
hour?"
Pete though he heard a couple voices, "That's fine, Pete, I'll
see you then."
"Bye."
Before Pete left the office, he noticed that Henry's
secretary's jacket and purse sat on her desk, plus her briefcase. He
smiled to himself, 'I know what Henry was doing, he was fucking his
secretary, Miss Marpleton, as the sign said on her desk,' Maybe I better
give him forty-five minutes instead.'
Pete walked over to the park in the square and sat on a green,
slatted wooden bench, one of eight or ten around the green lawns. He kept
looking at the hands on his watch, hoping that Tim was all right. He was
also thinking of the stuff he and Tim could do with that money.
Pete waited until he saw Mis Mapleton leave the bank building,
then head over and up the stairs. Henry's office door was open so he walked
in and was welcomed by the lawyer.
"I'm sorry if I interrupted you, Henry, I have something to ask
you, sort of in a 'if-then' situation." When Henry nodded, Pete
continued. "Well, I need to put a what-if situation to you to see what you
think. I'd sure like to keep it just between us. Could you do that?" Pete
pulled the $50.00 bill out of his pocket, "how about I hire you as my
lawyer so all this would be privileged. Would that be okay?"
Henry reached to take the $50. "Yes, that's the way of it. You
would be my client." Again Henry nodded. In fact, to Pete, Henry looked
like he would nod off to sleep any minute. 'Well, I'll have to give his
something to think about.'
"Henry, if I found some money, cash, quite a bit of it, hidden
in one of the buildings of the Motor Court, my question is ... would it be
mine legally?"
That caught Henry right in the solar plexus. "What? What did
you say, Pete. Say it again."
Pete repeated his statement.
"How much?" Henry said excitedly. Probably the most excited
ever since he lost his virginity, whatever variety it was.
"Oh, about ten grand, I'd guess." He stared at Henry, straight
into his face, watching the color change as the lawyer thought of the
possibilities. "By the way, just in case, I put it back in the hiding
place. I only found it by a strange accident. Uncle knew how to hide
stuff."
Pete thought, 'Maybe I'd better make the situation more
profitable for Henry.'
"Henry, I was also thinking, if the money could make it through
the courts, I'd be so thankful ... gosh ... I'd even give you ten percent
of the cash. How's that? Any easier?"
Henry jumped off his seat and shook Pete's hand, "Pete, that's
a good idea. I'll do some checking in my law library and come in tomorrow
morning and we'll see."
"Henry, remember, this was a 'what-if' situation. Nothing real,
got it? And Henry, I sure wouldn't want this to get around. You wouldn't
tell anyone, would you?"
"Oh, no, Petey, not even my wife."
Pete would like to have said, 'And not your secretary either.'
"That's good, Henry, I'm going to visit friends in Toledo,
probably won't get back until tomorrow. But I'll be here to see you first
thing.
They said good-bye and Pete left. He was wondering just what
kind of shenanigans he would come up with. He better be prepared for the
worse.
Another thought came to Pete. The keys that Henry had given him
for the Motor Court, might have a key on the bunch for Uncle Pete's house.
Since he remembered where the house was, Henry drove there. Since he was
the inheritor of the estate, he wouldn't look out of place yet.
Only a few minutes passed until Pete found the correct key for
the front door. For the first time in over fifteen years, Pete stood
inside his Uncle's house. Since he didn't want to waste time, he hurried to
the den where he'd had his gun collection. That would be profitable, but
he just wanted a rifle and a pistol of which he'd had plenty.
With difficulty Pete got a rifle down his pant leg and slid a
pistol down his pants in the back. All he had to do would be to get them
to the truck and he'd be fine. On the way back to the Motor Court Pete had
devised a plan, hopefully a good one. He knew he had no idea how crafty
his lawyer was. He'd maybe have to trap him, that is, if he came himself.
* * * * *
Pete hadn't forgotten to pick up some supper for Tim and
himself. Got a bucket of good ol' KFC, and side dishes. He parked his
truck by the side of the office, thinking he have to park it way back in
the trees later.
After calling Tim, Pete spread out the food on plates he found
in the cupboard. Tim dashed in and immediately sat looking hungrily at the
food.
"Okay, Tim, lets eat." They dove in and finished within a
second of the other. They talked about how they were going to trap Henry,
if that's who will be coming.
"I'll bet he does it himself," Tim spoke bravely,
seriously. "He wouldn't want anyone else to even see the cash. Don't you
think?"
Pete nodded, finished chewing," I'm sure you are right, Timmy.
You are getting so smart," he grinned and tousled the boy's dark hair, "I
better send you away to school next year."
Tim whined, "Aw, jeez, Petey, I don't want to go to school."
"So do I care?" He frowned, "You are going somewhere. You can't
go to school here in Johnston because you will be recognized and I'll lose
you." He smiled, "Even worse, you'll lose me. Can't have that buddy."
Petey put his hand behind Tim's neck and squeezed a little, "Remember, pal,
you are my responsibility now, and I want to take care of you. I would be a
poor caretaker if I didn't use everything I have to see you get a good
education. Believe me, buddy, I know. I've had to do jobs no one else
would take, just to stay alive.
"At my last job, hired hand on the Stone's farm, they accepted
me as part of the family and they all loved me. But still I was the one
doing most of the work, it wasn't slavery because I could leave, yet I
worked damn hard, Timmy, that's because I had enough education.
"I'll jump back a space, my boy, if you don't want me to be
responsible for you, you just say so right now and I'll let you go. I'd
hate to do it, but I don't want to be forced on you."
Pete looked at Tim, expectantly, a little worried, but he had
to give the boy a chance to say no, if that's how he feels. Then he
noticed Tim's eyes were getting moist, not dropping, but close.
Tim stood up, pulled the table away from Pete and sat on his
lap, facing him, holding on for dear life. "Please, Petey, don't send me
away. My parents already did that, and I don't think I can stand it
again. I'll do whatever you say, Petey, please keep me." He buried his
face in Pete's shoulder, dampened the material of Pete's shirt.
Pete couldn't hold back, "Timmy, if that's what you want, no
problem. I guess I've kind of taken to you, you know, like a lost puppy."
He tickled the boy in the ribs and Tim screeched with laughter, "Don't,
Petey, I'm awful ticklish, I've even peed my pants sometimes." Then he
giggled and tried to tickle Pete.
Pete grabbed this young man and held him tight to his
chest. "Tim, we're both ticklish so we'd better not try it." He felt his
heart thumping, excited to hold this body against himself.
"Say, Tim, how far away do we have travel to do some shopping
for you, clothes and stuff." He let Tim go, "Timmy, you are getting heavy,
must be all the good food I've given you. You're breaking my legs. Ugh."
"What are you talking about, we've only had two meals
together. What a bunch of bull!" He stood up and gave Pete a few last
minute jabs in the ribs.
"Oh, little boy, you wanna play rough, do you?" Pete picked up
Tim in one arm and carried him to the bedroom which had a soft carpet. He
told Tim, "I'm going to get on my hands and knees and you do the same right
behind me." He looked at his ward, "They you can try to pin me, OK?"
In a deep voice, as deep as he could get at age 14, "Sure, man,
I can do that. We used to wrestle in gym class. I'll count one, two, three
and then I'll do it."
Pete didn't laugh out loud, but it was difficult to keep it in.
"One! Two! Three! Tim struggled with Pete's heavier body, it
wouldn't move. Tim was getting pissed, "Hey, man, I'm workin' here, you
gotta help a little."
"Okay." In a second or two, Tim was on his back underneath
Pete who was holding the arms of his prey over his head and fell of top of
the young man.
"I give, man, I give, geez I can't breath, get up, you big ape,
give me a chance."
Pete stood up and pulled Tim up with him. He didn't let go, he
wrapped his arms around Tim. "Timmy, you are goin' to be a lot bigger to do
that. And, I'll be waiting for you to do it."
"Just you wait, I'll pin you so fast your head will take a week
to stop spinnin." He couldn't help smiling at Pete, knowing it would be a
while.
"Now, what was the answer to my question?"
Tim giggled, hardly able to talk, "What ... hah ... what was
the .... ha ... question?" Pete let go of Tim, who immediately collapsed
onto the floor, somebody cut his strings. He was still giggling.
Pete couldn't help laughing with him. "Where .... do ... we
... go .... for .... clothes, you silly nut case?"
Tim did try hard to be serious, "About twenty to twenty five
miles west of here at Fort Wayne, Indy. Some good shops there." He looked
sad, "Pete, I haven't had new clothes in a couple years." He looked down,
"Thanks."
* * * * *
At 10 pm that night Tim and Pete were dressed in dark clothes,
even dark ski masks pulled down. Each of them had a cheap flash camera to
capture the moment. Tim was wearing some of Pete's dark clothes since he
didn't have many. Pete had planned to hide under the counter in the office
while Tim was in the closet, waiting for Henry or whoever. They tired of
their position fast, but held on. Each had a couple lengths of clothes
line, cut about two feet long.
"Are you scared, Tim?"
"Oh, no, Pete."
"Well, I am, you never know what could happen."
Tim frowned and shivered, "I guess I'm scared?"
"A few more things, Timmy, don't talk for any reason, don't say
our names, you could grunt or growl if you want my attention. When we take
pictures, be sure neither of us is in the shot. We don't want him to know
who we are. At least not until we have his nuts in our hands." Tim
giggled. "Tim, that was just an expression."
"I knew that," Tim countered, miffed. He did smile, but Pete
couldn't see it.
Not until 11:30 pm did they hear anything unusual. Pete
recognized that a hand had tried to open the door. Having no success, that
person using a tool that could be heard working to break in to open the
door. A massive crunch sounded as the door and door jamb gave way to a
crowbar's leverage.
Pete thought, 'Damn, now I have to put a new door on,
probably. Shit.'
They heard the door screech as it was pushed open. The person
grunted, then said "ouch" as he probably caught his butt or worse on the
ruined door jamb. The sound of ripped cloth was loud in the office then.
"Shit!" Again the intruder groaned with his injury. They knew it was a
male.
Pete had told Tim to let him go first after the intruder went
in the living room and then the bedroom. He assumed the intruder would use
a flashlight, not wanting to turn on lights. He said that he would tackle
him to put him on the floor. He'd grab the arms, twist them back and tie
them. While he was doing that, Tim would help by tying the legs together
at the ankles. If he still had another rope, tie him just above the knees.
Pete prayed that this would work. He wanted Henry, if it was Henry, to be
surprised when he finds out who jumped him.
They heard his soft footsteps, slow but steady. He'd been in
this cottage before, Pete bet, he made no missteps. When he went into the
living room, Pete eased out of the cupboard to follow. He saw Tim push the
closet door where he was hiding, but he didn't leave the little space.
Watching the beam from the flashlight, Pete was almost to the
door to the bedroom and crouching down, not sure Henry wouldn't freak.
When Henry opened the cupboard where Pete had found the cash, Pete
acted. He rushed at Henry's legs, pulling him to the floor and started to
grab his arms. At that moment he felt Tim slamming on the guy's legs,
tying them in two places. Pete motioned for Tim to get out of the office
and hide.
When Henry quit yelling, Pete and Tim got off of him, standing
over him. He couldn't turn over so Pete did it for him.
"Who the hell are you, jumping me. I was just looking around.
The guy that owns it asked me to see what needs to be done."
"Well, shit, I don't remember doing that, Henry. I tell you
something in confidence and you high tail it over to MY motel to search for
yourself. You son of a bitch. Well, your ass is mine, Henry, I got
pictures and I'm going to call the police. Now. Just relax there on the
floor while I start."
"Wait, wait, Pete, don't call the police. Please. I didn't
mean anything, just lookin' around, checkin' some stuff."
"Don't give me that line of bullshit, Henry. You want the cash
and now you won't get any of it. I'll get me another lawyer and you are
out." Pete turned to head into the office where the phone sat on the
counter.
Henry called from the other room. "Please, Petey, I'm
sorry. I'll handle it the right way. Don't call the police."
Pete walked slowly into the bedroom. "Why should I do that,
Henry? What have you done for me that I just forget all this. We got you
with your pants down. The only way to stop me is to sign a statement I
will type and you will sign." He whispered to Timmy, "Get out of here."
"I'll do it, I'll do it, man."
"Also, Henry, I'm going to call your wife to come get you. I'm
not letting you out of this scot free. You sign and your wife picks you
up. That's it."
Henry whined, his balls in a twist, feeling very sorry for
himself. "Hell, that's worse than calling the police. Give me a little
help here."
"Did you help me, Henry? No. Were you going to help yourself
to MY money? Yes. Maybe I better call the police, a crowbar with your
fingerprints on it."
"No, I was wearing gloves."
"No, problem, Henry, I will put your fingerprints on the
crowbar after I beat you with it. Think it over, you don't have much
choice."
"All right."
"Hey, Henry, is there a totally honest lawyer in the city, and
good one?"
Henry took a while, thinking of what would be best to say. "I
doubt it Pete, I really doubt it. If you want the best guess I could make,
that's it."
"Okay, Henry, I'll take you at your word, so I might as well
stay with you. Better the devil you know, than one you don't know." He
eyed Henry through slits, "Henry, what will happen to you when I call your
wife. Your best guess."
Henry stared at Pete from the floor, "From the position I'm in,
probably not much. She knows that I sometimes skirt a lot of corners to
work the truth my way." He smiled, "She does know that my livelihood
depends a lot of that." His voice faded away in regret and desperation.
"I will type up the confession you will sign, but we'll wait
until she gets here." He went to the phone in the living room, "Henry,
what's the number?" Pete punched in the numbers.
"Hi, is this Mrs Henry Warren?"
"Hi, this is Peter Johnston, do you know who I am?"
"That's right, and your husband is in my motel office. I'd
appreciate it if you would come now to pick him up."
"I'm afraid he can't come to the phone, he's tied up."
Pete laughed, "No, Mrs. Warren, I haven't killed him, but I
would have liked to. You know where the motel is?"
"That's good, Ma'am, you say about 20 minutes? ..... Good we'll
be waiting. Come through the office door, we'll be in back."
"Thank you." Pete put the receiver on the phone base. In the
outer office, Pete sat down at the desk behind the counter. At that point
he could see Tim hiding on the other side of the counter.
He whispered, "Tim, I will tell you everything she says. I
don't want either of them to see you, since they might know who you are and
we don't want that, okay? Stay in the first cottage. I'll come to get you
when they have gone home."
Tim nodded and Pete opened the outside door so he could crawl
out without being seen. Back to writing Henry's confession and his promise
to complete transferral of Peter Johnston's goods to Pete.
When he finished typing, he took that paper to Henry so he
could sign it. Since Henry couldn't sign with his hands behind his back,
Pete untied his right hand, leaving the left hand tied to the bed rail.
After Henry signed, Pete promised, "I will make two more
copies, one for you and one for my safety deposit box. I think that should
keep us both honest. And, when I find all the money if I haven't found it
already, I'm putting it in the same box at the bank until we can put it in
my savings account.
Less that 15 minutes later Mrs. Warren came through the office
door, from which he led her to his bedroom where Henry was still lying on
the floor in his burglary outfit, all black plus black ski mask, all tied
up. How Henry had managed to corral this beautiful woman, Pete couldn't
understand. She was in her forties, maybe close to fifty, but reeked of
class and breeding, with a figure of a much younger woman. Pete was
impressed, he couldn't help wondering if they would be friends someday.
She might be a help with Tim, too.
She turned to Pete, "Hi, Pete, I'm Amanda Warren, wife of this
old reprobate."
Pete pointed to Henry, "See, I said he was all tied up and he
is. I'm going to untie him and give you his copy of the confession. I
used no undue force to subdue him. I also have pictures of him just where
he is very recognizable. He knows what he is going to do, and he may tell
you all about it. To give you a start, he was going to steal a lot of cash
I told him my uncle left in this building. I really didn't want that so I
sort of guessed when he'd come and showed him the welcoming committee. I
could have called the police, but I didn't want to have to break in another
attorney. He'll do it if he doesn't want me to take the pictures to the
police. I'm trying to be fair, and want my whole inheritance, not just
part. If he does well, I might give him a bonus."
"Thanks, Pete, you are being fair. I'll remember this. He
does sometimes gets carried away with what you'd call skullduggery. He's
had some close calls, but not this close. Thanks, again, Pete. I'll owe you
one." She gave him a smile, "Count on it."
She helped Henry up, giving him some warning looks that would
have killed a lesser man. "Pete, we'll come back to get his car tomorrow."
As soon as her car left the grounds, Tim was back in the office
building, "Hey, Petey, how did it go with the Mrs. Warren? Did she
lambaste him? Or just chew his ass."
Pete couldn't agree with him, "No, she didn't any of
that. Mrs. Amanda Warren is a real fine woman. How she got stuck with Henry
Warren I can't imagine. Maybe he's a hot lover, though I doubt it, not
anyone who is that much in love with himself. I have a feeling that he
sowed his wild oats when young, and has nothing left to wag."
"Petey, can I have a beer? Please."
"No, it's too late, we need to be in bed. And you are too
young and innocent."
Timmy proudly, "Petey I helped you subdue the robber and tied
him up. I should get some sort of reward." Pete walked to the
refrigerator, uncapped two bottles of beer handing one to Tim. Pete was
thinking he rather give Timmy a different kind of reward, but told himself
'no'.
"Thanks, Pete, you are a nice guy." Tim went to hug Pete,
something he hadn't before.
"And I'm not very innocent, I've been on my own for three
months, a lot has happened since then."
Pete hesitated, worried and serious, "Timmy, did anyone abuse
you, or try to attack you?"
The two men, young and older, sat on the couch in the living
room, close together. Pete put his arm around Timmy's shoulders, "You are
a good scout, Tonto, I was glad to have you on my side." He squeezed his
young responsibility, he felt an ache in his heart for the poor lad, maybe
he could make up for the neglect and abuse of his parents. He mainly hoped
Tim liked him.
* * * * *
The night was stilled, cool and damp, but still a nice night to
sleep well. Tim was in bed of Cottage One, a little better than the
real. Pete's uncle, he remembered, would save that one for his best
customers. His uncle often complained to Pete that most of his customers
would take a cottage to screw or be screwed, stay an hour or so. Peter
still charged them the full night's rent since he had to clean up after
them. Sometimes that was really disgusting, he said, but he wouldn't tell
Pete what he meant about disgusting.
A sharp sound woke Tim, probably an owl, or a rabbit being
killed. Tim was scared, so dark and spooky, really frightened for the first
time since he'd been on his own. There had been a couple of time when he
was attacked, but he was able to run and hide. He didn't know what they
wanted, he sure didn't have any money. He never realized it might be
because he had a cock and an ass they'd like to play with. No fun for Tim,
thought.
The wind came up and his cottage began to creak and crack,
strange noises all around him. 'Geez, this is scary, wish I had somebody
to sleep next to and keep warm.' He did understand inside that he needed a
person who would comfort him and hold him, a deep friend who would look
after him. 'Hey,' he thought,' I do have someone like that. I have Pete.'
He found the flashlight Pete had given him for protection in the night. It
wasn't cold out so he didn't put any clothes on, he'd go to the office in
just his boxers and t-shirt.
Pete had given Tim a key to the office so in an emergency he
could get in. Timmy whispered to himself, "This has got to be an emergency,
I need help." He smiled with his rationalization, 'but a man's gotta do
what a man's got to do.'. He felt better already.
Pete had been asleep, but the noise of the front door opening
woke him. He wasn't scared because he knew Tim had the only key besides
himself. He followed the steps in his mind as Tim moved through the
cottage, surreptitiously and cautiously, soon he reached the bedroom. Pete
couldn't think what Tim could want though he was sure he'd learn very soon.
Tim whispered, "Pete?" No answer.
"Are you asleep, Pete?" No answer.
"Oh well." Tim felt he was safe. He'd answer questions in the
morning.
Gingerly Tim eased himself under Pete's covers, inched his
legs toward the bottom while his body followed to the middle where it met
another body.
"Timmy, I hope that's you, I hope a whole lot," Pete whispered,
"I could use some warming up, if you don't mind."
Tim laughed warmly, "You knew I was comin' over, probably
before I knew it myself. Right?"
Pete turned over to face his young friend, "Timmy, I'll give
you warmth and a lot of comfort, I hope. What ever you want, my dear boy,
I'll do my best." He smiled broadly, but he felt in his heart that he was
falling in love with the winsome young man with the sweetest smile and
winning ways. The pure innocence in Tim's deep blue eyes drew Pete to the
beautiful aura of his young mind and the growing need in himself to embrace
him.
"Timmy, this is fine if it is what you want, I'll be happy to
have a bed mate. How about you get on your stomach next to me and rest your
head on my chest and put an arm over me. I will hold you too with my
arm. Does that sound good?" He held his breath, hoping that Tim would
agree.
"Sure, Petey, I used to sleep with my brothers like this,
especially my older brother. He was about your size, but not anywhere near
as nice as you. I feel most comfortable and snug."
Pete cautioned, "However, if we are going to sleep together,
you must keep your clothes in Cottage One and the bed must be disarranged
daily. That you must do when you go get your clothes on. Okay?"
"That's okay, Pete, I won't mind that at all. I feel like this
is my home with you, that we are related, maybe. That's my theory of
relativity." He giggled.
After Pete guffawed, he challenged, "What do you know about the
Theory of Relativity? Tell me."
Tim snuggled against Pete, "This is relativity, being with you
like we are relatives." He sighed and relaxed, "Good night, Petey."
Pete knew Tim would be asleep long before he could discover
unconsciousness himself.
* * * * *
That same night at the Warren's home on Trail Ridge Drive, only
for the very wealthy citizens of Johnston City. Their house was an
expensive one and a large one. Mrs. Amanda Warren had paid for it with
inherited wealth from her parents, wealth that her husband, Henry, would
never touch while she lived, and even afterward, because they had a
prenuptial agreement. Her money would go back to her family members, in
trust for the future. Of course their son, Montgomery, would have residual
income though he'd not be informed of the face amount until he was thirty
years old. Montgomery, then in his mid twenties, had just finished a
masters degree in Political Science at the local college. Even though he
had searched around the city, he hadn't found a position of any sort.
There was a basic flaw in his investigations, he never looked outside of
the city for a job. Montgomery has some other basic flaws, especially with
Mummy.
"Henry, what ever gave you the idea to steal from Pete
Johnston? You could be easily disbarred as an attorney. Sometimes you
astound me as to your stupidity, your complete lack of honest intelligence
and your inability to look ahead to the consequences of your actions." She
shook her head at him, "It's gotten so you come up with behavior so
incongruous for an attorney, especially for one who expects to stay our of
prison. How come, Henry?"
"Geez, Mandy, the guy will have tons of bucks and I know we
should have a lot of it."
"You are demented, out of your head. All Pete has to do with
the pictures of you in his cottage, tied up with a ski mask on, and the
confession you signed. You should be so thankful he called me and not the
police."
"Oh, Mandy, he wouldn't have called the police because he'd
have had to explain all the money he found."
Amanda Warren gave her husband, Henry, a look that should
kill. "I'm warning you, Henry, you will have that money he has put into
probate with the property in his name as the inheritor. There will be no
situation that will occur to cause him trouble. Got that, Henry."
"Yeah."
"Also, if you don't, I will divorce you on the grounds of
incompatibility. I know some good lawyers in this city who would be
ecstatic to take you on." She stood over him as he lay on their bed, "You
will no longer have any of my money to play with OR live on. And that's the
Facts of Life for you, Henry Warren, Esq. You understand?"
Henry looked contrite, but actually he was scared
shitless. He'd starve if he didn't have her money for support. He didn't
make enough at this law practice to pay for the secretary, let alone money
for himself. "Sure, honey, I'll change, I'll be good."
"No, Henry, you won't change, I know that. But, keep thinking
about the money you won't have if we divorce. And if we do, you will get
nothing." Her voice was warning enough for Henry, he better do his best
for Pete and keep out of trouble.
Elsewhere in the Warren house, Montgomery Warren, usually
called Monty, was talking on the phone to a friend of his, actually his
best friend. Monty had the second floor of a whole wing of the Warren
mansion. His section was furnished with two bedrooms, two huge baths and
one sauna besides an office/study room, a fitness room and one large
playroom. Just like when he was a teenager. Now at 25 years of age Monty
was ensconced in his suite and planned to stay there. He had his mummy by
the balls, or rather the short and curlies, she wouldn't kick him out,
ever. Just so mummy didn't find where he'd hidden the pictures, he had no
worries.
"Hey, Monty, are you with me? What do you think? I'd like to
come over," Brett Morgan pleaded with his very good friend, a friend who
was seven years older than him. Brett that night was horny as hell and
needed Monty. Brett couldn't have Monty over to his parents house. He'd
never be able to explain why his best friend was so old, primarily why as a
high school senior, Brett was with him. Brett didn't like Monty that well,
but he loved his huge cock up his ass.
"I don't know, Brett, I'm sort of tired, I've worked out today,
did my running and worked on the machines. You need to come over that
bad?" Monty had adopted a patronizing attitude with Brett, "You gotta
remember I don't need you, we're friends, but I got other playtime
friends."
"Please, Monty, I'll be real good to you. You can do me, if you
want." Now Brett was pleading, begging with his biggest plus factor, his
ass. He knew that Monty loved his ass, loved every inch of depth, where
Brett could accept Monty. Brett had been working with larger and larger
dildos so he could take Monty's Monster. "I'm all hot and juicy, Mont,
I've been preparing myself every night. Please?"
Monty was remembering the last time with Brett, he didn't think
he'd ever forget that. When he did that, his body was reacting massively
and wetting his jock.
"Oh, okay, Brett, I'll open the side door in 15 minutes. Is
that okay?"
With a grateful sigh, Brett accepted, "I'll be there in 15
minutes. Wait for me now, don't get ahead of me."
"See ya, Brett." Monty's suite had an outside stairs where
Brett could get to his rooms without anyone knowing.
* * * * *
A week later Pete's inheritance and financial arrangements had
been completed, much to his pleasure. Since Pete still maintained that Tim
was an equal member of their partnership, the money they had, belonged to
both of them. Tim thought it was great, but felt it was a little unfair to
Pete since the money was his.
Tim did complain to Pete that it wasn't fair to him. "Tim, I
know you think it strange for me to include you, but think about this. I
don't have a family at all. I did have a family on the farm in Iowa, but
left them to come back to Johnstown here. You don't have a family any
more, right?"
Tim looked down sadly, despondently, and shook his head, he
mumbled, "No I don't."
"So, why can't we be a family ourselves, huh?" In trying to
cheer Tim up, Pete had given himself an idea. "Timmy, why don't we be
related, would you mind being my younger brother?"
Tim's chin flew up, his eyes sparkled and moistened, "You mean
it, Pete? Could we?" The young man stood quickly and brought Pete into his
embrace, a tight clinch in Tim's arms.
"Oh, Pete, that would be wonderful. I'd get into that fast." He
seemed very grateful, and wore his emotions on his sleeve, pressing his
face into Pete's chest.
Pete hugged Tim, too, his arms around the slender back. "Tim,
you know I like you a whole lot, and you are so nice to have around here,
I'd be terribly hurt if we couldn't be together. Could you stay with me,
for good?" Pete was looking down into Tim's face as he looked up.
Pete could feel Timmy shaking, thinking he was probably
sobbing. He sat on the couch, pulling Tim down on his lap, holding him
closely, caressing the boy's dark hair, smooth and silky. "It's okay,
Timmy, we'll be all right. I do want you to stay." Pete managed to have
Tim in his arms like a young boy in his father's arms. He felt very moved
by their close embrace, and was so happy Timmy would be with him.
Timmy twisted suddenly and they both fell over on
the couch, lying together in a grand double hug. Tim's head was still on
Pete's chest, their legs twisted into pretzels together.
Both men, hardly breathing, were content in the minds and in
their hearts, knowing that their relationship had developed in the last two
weeks, loving the idea of family.
"Timmy, are you okay? Is this okay with you?"
Tim moaned, "Oh Pete, this is what I always wanted, to feel a
part of you and your world where we could be together for good. I love
you, Petey, I do." Tim grabbed Pete's body, his chest, to put himself as
close as possible to his new brother, to a new family he'd been wishing for
so desperately. The memories of his real family from whom he'd been
expelled were gone, never to think again about them.
Pete sat straight up on the couch, moving Tim around so he was
sitting on Pete's thighs, his knees on either side of Pete's butt, his
chest against Pete's and his head lying on Pete's shoulder. Pete was
rubbing Tim's back, caressing his body, trying to help this young, dear man
and boy.
Softly, Pete whispered to Tim, "Little brother, I love you,
too, and have ever since the first time I saw you asleep in that Cottage, I
thought you were adorable."
Tim was incensed by that description, "Aw, come on, Petey,
anything but adorable."
"Well, how about the cutest boy I'd ever seen. Would that do?"
Pete was teasing Tim his new little brother, "Okay, Timmy, the most
handsome young man in the state. Would that do?"
"How about in the world?" Tim tried to up the scale.
"Well, that too." Pete admitted. "You know, we still have to
keep quiet about our relationship. Legally we can't be brothers, but within
our family we can. We are going to have some problems. You have to go to
school. Maybe we'll have to establish another residence somewhere else
where you could. But then, there would be a problem about school
records. How were you doing in school, pretty well?"
"Petey, I was great. First in the class in most subjects, and I
was hot on the soccer field. You should see how my legs developed. Here,
I'll show you." Tim stood and quickly unzipped his fly to drop his pants
to the floor. That day he was wearing bikini briefs so his entire legs
were visible to Pete.
"Man, those are great legs, Tim, you must have worked out a lot
of extra sessions." Pete looked closer, pulled Tim nearer, "Hey, Timmy, you
got hair on your legs. That's great, you are growing up."
Suddenly, Tim pulled down his briefs, "And see, Petey, I got
hair around my dick, too."
"That's fine, Tim, but you better put all that stuff away,
please."
"What's wrong with it, Pete, why ..... "
"Timmy, please do as I ask. I shouldn't be looking at your
privates anyway."
Tim didn't pull up his underwear but sat down again on Pete's
thighs, "What's the matter with one brother seeing his other brother's dick
and nuts, huh? What's wrong with that, Petey?" Tim honestly couldn't
understand Pete's reasoning. "Pete, I often saw my brothers' dicks, and we
played with them too. Wait, I don't mean each other's, we only played with
our own. But, boy, did my older brother had a big one." He grinned
devilishly, "and lots of hair down there, and even in his butt, too" He
laughed, "that looked so funny."
Pete had to laugh with Tim, wondering how much Tim knew about
boys playing with each other. Probably not much, he thought. Timmy's dick
was maybe a couple inches soft, but no indication what it would be when
hard. His package pretty much looked like the middle Stone brother, Tom, a
little bit beyond beginning puberty, but not quite yet an adult man. Peter
smiled again, because Tim still hadn't pulled up his briefs and his
pants. 'Maybe,' Pete thought, 'he's giving me a good look, showing off?'
"Thanks, Tim, I see you are getting a lot of hair, that means
you are growing up, you know, to be a man." He gave Tim a pat on the back,
"You can pull up your pants now, Tim." Pete smiled, "I will appreciate and
enjoy watching you grow up, little brother.
Timmy fell forward and wrapped his arms around Pete's
neck. "Thanks, Pete, I'm glad to be with you. Hope we can be together
... forever." Peter also loved the brilliant smile and bright shining eyes
on Tim's face,
Pete hugged Tim, "I agree, I hope so too."
* * * * *
Pete had gotten postcards from his boys in Knoxville, Iowa, in
fact quite a few of them in the three months he'd been away. Once a week,
Pete made a special phone call to talk to each of them, interrogating each
one on his activities during the previous week. Pete told their father
what he'd been working at, mostly the motel, and their father should tell
the boys.
Tim had been with Pete about a month. They were growing closer
together, caring for each other with deeper emotions and more fantastic
dreams. Tim had been sleeping with Pete every night since that first night
when they slept close together.
There had been no sex between Tim and Pete, none. In their
minds each of them longed to be that way, to be actually 'with' the other.
But, Pete would have none of it, Tim was too young, too inexperienced, too
innocent. The older man should be strong and not give in to his sexual
appetite, not with a juvenile.
Of course Pete could feel Tim's hard cock against his leg
sometimes as they slept, and Tim had his leg on top of Pete's erection,
pulsing and spasming. Once Pete had explained his reasons for not having
sex with him, Tim seemed to understand what they had to do. Pete knew that
Tim would disappear into a cottage bathroom while cleaning up. Actually,
Tim needed to do a better job cleaning up the residue from his
masturbation.
Pete did cook some, they ate breakfast and lunch in the office
cottage, but in the evening either Pete would bring take out back to them.
Other times they would go out of town, down to Van Wert for some food. On
the way back to Johnston, usually Tim would lay on the bench seat with his
head in Pete's lap, curled up and sleep. The bouncing of Tim's head on his
lap would cause an erection and, some evenings, Pete's cock would erupt
with its offerings to the god of love. Pete wondered if Tim were actually
unconscious to the effect his head was having on his patron. He did notice
that Tim would wake up back in Johnston with a devilish smile on his face.
Pete wanted to kiss off that lovely countenance, but held true to his
morality concerns.
* * * * *
Tim did not go to church with Pete, they didn't want anyone to
know that he was still in the city. So, Pete would be part of the
congregation and describe the whole service when he got home. The two
young men would sit against each other on the couch, cuddling, holding each
other. This became a special routine for them on each Sunday, after which
Pete would cook up a real Sunday dinner, meat, potatoes, vegetable and
dessert. Then ..... they both took a nap.
After his $50,000 was assured and in the bank, Pete decided to
tithe to the Lutheran church. He had been welcomed there and the old pastor
even remembered him. He felt that someone had been watching over him
during his treks to strange places, especially in Iowa. And, of course, his
good fortune in inheriting his uncles estate was a huge gain. He also felt
he needed to thanks the Lord for bringing Tim into his life. So Pete wrote
a $5000 check to the Lutheran church where he attended.
Pete hadn't open the motel at that time. He had some work to do
to make the business a reality, and a profit-making organization. He had
visited the city government offices to learn how to open up. He was
allowed to continue the licenses which his uncle had had for years. He paid
the fees and would be allowed to start receiving customers.
Tim and Pete spent some hours learning to run the cash
register, knowing what to ask people who stop to rent a room for the night.
Taking in cash, credit cards, checks brought many questions. Are the checks
good or not? Has the credit card been stolen? Is the cash real or fake.
Pete had asked Amanda Warren if she could recommend someone who
would be willing and able to teach him all those things. Tim would not be
seen around the motel, hiding in his cottage, reading for the time. What
else? Harry Potter, of course.
A friend and relative of Amanda's who worked at the bank, Frank
Warren, worked with Pete for two evenings, bringing him up to speed on
running the motel. Pete assumed that Frank was a relative of Amanda's,
though she didn't explain. Right after Frank left, Pete got Tim into the
office and went over everything the young man had talked about. Frank was
young for a bank head teller, but was very friendly, personable and
actually nice for a bank employee. He wasn't Pete's height, though more
filled out than Pete's slender torso and limbs. With an almost auburn brown
hair, ruddy face and glossy, emerald eyes, Frank's face was long and
narrow, again like Pete's, dark brows and lashes with reddish cheeks which
made him look like a teenager.
Pete poked his nose into Frank's business to ask how soon he
needed to be home with his wife, hoping to string him along. Frank just
said, "Nope, no one to get home to any more." After that he hardly spoke
except to explain the work, and Pete noticed a sadness in his eyes,
sometimes a misting over there. His opinion was that Frank had a serious
misfortune in his life, and recently too.
Before the second night he was to come, Pete asked Frank if he
would come for supper, then stay to teach him. But, rather shortly, Frank
said he couldn't. That was it, he couldn't. Then Pete became very
interested in Frank's life. Maybe he have to ask Mrs. Warren about him.
Maybe after church next Sunday, she was a member, too.
Pete called Amanda on Saturday afternoon to see if he could
speak to her after church the next day.
"Why, certainly, Pete, but I'm inviting you and Tim to lunch
after church. I know you don't bring him, but you could bring him
afterward." She spoke in a soft, comfortable and tranquilizing voice,
"Now, Pete, don't worry. As far as I know, I'm the only one who realizes
that Tim is there with you, and, I think it's the greatest thing that could
have happened to the poor boy. Okay, friend?"
Pete was stunned that she knew about Tim, but he had a feeling
that she wouldn't hurt him or them. "Sure, Amanda, we'll be happy to come
to lunch." He was breathless with anxiety and apprehension. "You do
understand that I've been trying to hide Tim, to keep him from his terrible
father."
"Of course, I know that, Pete, you and I will deal with
Mr. Butch Kenton soon."
"Oh, thank you so much. I've been so frightened that Tim would
be discovered. I've been trying to provide a home setting for him, he's
been through so much. I've also been trying be surrogate father for him.
Miss Johnston had been feeding him when he was on his own so I've taken
over for that."
"I know that, Pete, by the way, she is a great aunt to you on
your mother's side. Well, I'll see you and Tim tomorrow for lunch. Both my
husband and my son will be gone at that time so don't worry about them. See
you then."
"See you, " Pete said with relief and hope. 'She said she
would be a friend and I believe it.' Pete spoke to himself.
He called for Tim, "Hey Tim, Mrs Warren has invited both of us
to lunch tomorrow after church. Isn't that great?"
Tim was worried and showed it. "But, Petey .... "
"Now don't worry, Timmy, it will be alright. She's known you
have been with me and won't tell anyone else." He grinned, "And, bud, I
think she will fix it for you to stay with me."
Tim rushed Pete to hug him, almost pushing him over the counter
in the office. "Pete, that's the best news I've ever heard," he dropped his
head of Pete's chest, "I've been so worried that someone might take me away
from you." Tim held on so tight that Pete could feel each of his breaths,
fast but arrhythmic. He could tell that the young boy was crying with
relief.
* * * * *
The lunch with Mrs. Warren, Amanda, was so relaxing for Tim and
Pete. When they first met, Amanda hugged Tim tightly to herself. Tim was
embarrassed when he cried again with her, but she understood and spent a
while calming him down, talking to him softly just like a mother would. She
sat down and somehow worked his 'son' Tim onto her lap, his head on her
shoulder. She rucked up her skirt as she pulled him, but if she noticed, it
bothered her not. Pete couldn't hear what she said to Tim, but could tell
she was murmuring in his ear. Tim was still crying softly, which made Pete
sad and about to cry. He hadn't had a mother himself for a long, long
time. Well, a good mother, not like Tim's birth mother.
Amanda noticed Pete, he looked so sad, she knew his mother had
left them way back. She stood up with Tim, and, "Hey, Pete, would you like
to get in on this group hug."
He immediately smiled the sadness away, "I sure would, Amanda."
After a delicious lunch, they sat and talked at the table,
having coffee and milk for Tim.
"Pete, and Tim, I wanted you both here to talk about what we
hope will happen to you, Tim. You may not know, Pete, but I'm one of the
three county Commissioners, and we run the county government, practically
run everything that happens in Johnston County which is in our jurisdiction
.
"To explain something else, Pete, I am related to your Uncle
Peter, but I wanted his money and assets to go to the right place. That's
why I made my husband search everywhere until he found you in Iowa just in
time. I wanted you to have it all. By the way, Frank Warren is a nephew of
mine, a good teacher and a good man, unlike his uncle."
"We ... I sure appreciated having him help me on the business
end of the motel."
Amanda laughed so delightfully, "He knew that someone else was
with you, so made a good effort to explain in detail. He would have liked
to have supper with you, but I told him that there was a good reason he
should say 'thanks, no thanks'."
Amanda in her mind was tempted to play matchmaker for Frank and
Pete, since Frank had lost his partner some months before. It nearly killed
him, but with her help, he'd been recovering from the loss. But she wasn't
positive how Pete and Tim and Frank would relate. Maybe later, she
thought.
"Okay, men, I'll explain just what I'm going to do and how I
hope to finish. First, I'm going to petition Social Services to place Tim
under your authority as a foster father, Pete. So, right away Timmy, you
will be Pete's foster son. Will that work?"
Tim turned to hug Pete and give him a big kiss on the lips.
Since Pete didn't seem to surprised, she knew her surmise about their
relationship was right. Tim was the son and Pete was the Dad.
They were sitting around a table on the patio which was strewn
with many papers, looking like formal documents. Amanda pulled a few
sheets out and handed them to Pete.
"Now, Pete, if you will fill out these you will be applying for
accreditation as a foster parent. This will go through the Social Services
board of which I am chairman." She smiled decisively toward them as if to
say, 'I'm the boss there.'
"And, Timmy, you will fill out this form as best you can that
you want to be taken as a foster child as soon as possible." Tim
immediately looked very worried and agonized.
Amanda quickly assured him, "Timmy, you will not have to leave
Pete, you will stay with him while you are being assigned," she grinned
proudly, "I'm chairman of that committee too."
Tim and Pete laughed with her, she was quite some manipulator
of government business.
"Second, I am going to have a meeting with Butch Kenton, your
dad, Tim... No don't look worried again, Timmy, it will be fine and you
won't be there, nor will Pete." She looked at Pete, "I don't think you and
Butch are on good terms, right?"
"Frankly, Amanda, I'd love to pound him into the ground until
he's 2 feet tall."
'To make the meeting more important to Butch, I'm taking a
police lieutenant with me to meet Butch. Butch will be asked to sign a
paper making you, Tim, a ward of the court and he will probably have some
jail time for abandoning his son, refusing to support him as he should and
not even telling the police that Tim was gone, nor did he even look for
him."
"And, Tim, you will have nothing to do with him. He will not
know who the foster parent is going to be. Sometime he probably will find
out, but he will have a restraining order to keep away from you, and from
you Pete. If he does, he will go back to jail, he would not pass GO and he
would not collect $200." She finished with a sweet smile, "How does that
sound to you guys?"
Both men, Pete and Tim, stood and rushed Amanda from either
side, hugging and kissing her. Pete spoke first, "Amanda, you are a wonder
and the most beautiful and wonderful woman ever. Thanks so much."
Tim gave her a kiss on the cheek, "Thanks from me too,
Mandy. Can I call you that?"
"Timmy, you can call me anything but late for dinner." Timmy
giggled at her old gag and hugged her harder. "Oh, Timmy, you are getting
too strong. All the good food that Pete has been feeding you. Does he give
you plenty of milk?"
Tim giggled again, "Yes, he makes me drink it, but I usually
sneak some chocolate sauce to hype it up."
Pete groaned, "Oh, so that's where the chocolate sauce goes, I
can never find it for my ice cream. Just wait 'til I get you home."
Timmy heard the word home and grabbed Pete, hugging him and
whispering 'thank you, thank you' in his ear, then 'take me home, home. I
love you Petey.'
Amanda could hear these personal conversations, and was
thrilled. Maybe another boy is saved from vicious, barbaric parents.
* * * * *
Driving home, Pete wondered how his other boys were doing,
having a good time on the farm and probably playing games with each other.
He had no way of knowing that Ted was trying to call him and had been for a
few hours. Fortunately they hadn't cut off their telephone service in
Iowa, Ted thought, but was desperate, trying not to cry.
* * * * *
Hope you are enjoying the story which has 12 chapters. I would be pleased
to receive email from my readers. All emails will be answered except
flames. Paul Daventon - authorpaul@mail.com