Date: Sat, 27 Dec 2008 21:58:08 -0500
From: Morris Henderson <bigmoh@post.com>
Subject: Lust_Loyalty_and_Love

LUST, LOYALTY, LOVE

PREFACE

This is the story of a nineteen-year-old who first
appeared as a secondary character in two other
stories, "An Improbable Love," and "A Rocky Road" (in
the High School section of Nifty).  In those stories,
he was an intelligent but unwise young college
student.  Lust and the inability to control his
frantic search for sexual gratification resulted in
several incidents of foolish behavior in which he was
embarrassed, frustrated, and, occasionally seriously
injured by those he had inappropriately propositioned.
Finally recognizing his need for professional help, he
told his parents that he was gay and needed counseling
-- not to `cure' his homosexuality but to control his
compulsive and thoughtless advances on other men.  The
chronically homophobic couple was furious and threw
their `disgraceful' son out onto the streets of New
York City to fend for himself.

CHAPTER ONE

Cory sat nursing a ginger ale at the end of the bar as
he eyed the clientele and hoping that one of them
might provide him with sex and cash--both of which he
desperately needed.  In the weeks of hustling
following his being thrown out of his home by a
bigoted and tyrannical father, he had only a few
"customers" and too little income to meet his needs.
He was homeless and frequently hungry.

The bar on the fringe of Greenwich Village in New York
City was small.  It had no dance floor, the music was
somewhere between elevator music and soft rock, the
entrance was as nondescript as the subdued ambiance
inside, and the drinks were overpriced.  It was not
the sort of place that would attract young men.
However, over the years, it had become known to older,
more affluent men--both married and single--as the
place to go to discretely meet others whose sexual
appetites were best satisfied by coupling with like-
minded men.

The proprietor, Pat O'Reily, was a grizzly 60-year-old
retired policeman who laid down strict rules of
behavior and had the attitude and musculature to
enforce them.  The patrons understood the rules: no
fondling, masturbation, or other sexual contact was
permitted on the premises.  The first offense drew a
stern warning tempered with the promise of hospitality
and anonymity in subsequent visits.  After a second
violation, the nonconforming patron was banned for
life.

Pat was owner, bartender, and bouncer although,
because of his mature and well-mannered clientele,
having to eject a misbehaving patron was extremely
rare.  He was also an astute businessman, which led
him to accommodate the tastes of several customers who
preferred young, barely legal teens.  He therefore
tolerated young hustlers--at least those few who met
his high standards--to hang around.

Cory was lucky enough to learn, in a conversation with
another hustler, about the bar.  "Why don't you work
that bar?" Cory asked when told of the bar.

"I scoped it out," was the reply.  "But the owner
don't allow no soliciting.  How's a guy gonna make any
money unless he comes on to a John?"

Cory was, however, desperate.  With little experience
and less skill hustling, he had had little success.
He was nearly broke and hungry.  It seemed he was
always hungry.  The weather was turning chilly and he
didn't want to spend the coming winter in the cold.
He walked (to save subway fare) down to Greenwich
Village.  After some searching, he located the bar
only to find it was closed.  The sign on the door gave
the hours: "6pm to 1am Monday thru Saturday."  Cory
would have to wait an hour for the bar to open.

At six, the owner unlocked the door and Cory went in.

"How old are you, sonny?" the owner growled.

"Nineteen, sir."

"Ya don't look it.  Lemme see your ID!"

Satisfied that Cory's Driver's License was valid, the
owner said, "Okay.  What'll you have?"

"Nothing, sir.  I was hoping that you might like to
have a young man around to...well...be available if
any of your customers are interested in conversation."

"What makes ya think I'm interested in that?" the
owner challenged.

"A colleague suggested that you would be," Cory
replied.

"A colleague?" the owner asked.  "Who?"

"I'm afraid I only know his first name: Larry.  But
he's quite successful in his work uptown.

"Dark hair?  About five six or eight?  Maybe 160
pounds?"

"Yes, sir.  It seems we have a mutual acquaintance.
He said that his employment demands were unacceptable
to you but I'm willing to abide by your rules."

"Ya talk like a college kid.  Why the hell are ya
asking to work here?"

"That's a long story, sir.  Let's just say that
unfortunate circumstances have led me to use my skills
and bring satisfaction to others."

The bar owner, who was impressed with Cory's good
looks when they met, was even more impressed with his
confidence and ability to ask for work without
explicitly admitting he was a hustler.  Still, he
wanted to be sure of what the boy wanted.

"Let's cut the bull shit, college boy.  You want to
hang around here in the hopes that some horny old man
will come on to ya and pay ya for time in the sack.
Is that it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Now that we got that settled, whore boy, ya got to
show me what ya got.  My customers expect quality!
Come with me."

Cory followed Pat to the rear of the bar.  When they
entered the rest room, he suspected what the owner
wanted.  If he had to give a free blow job, he would
do it.

"Take off yur shirt and drop yur pants to yur ankles,"
the owner commanded.

Cory complied.

The owner looked him up and down for a long time
before saying, "Nice!  Put yur clothes back on and
come out to the bar.  I've got some questions for ya."

When Cory returned to the front of the bar, Pat said,
"Ya know not to solicit sex in here?"

"Yes, sir."

"Don't even start a conversation with a patron.  Talk
to `em only if they speak to ya first.  Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Cory replied but the disappointment was
obvious in his expression.  Moreover, he was not quite
sure that he could control his lust.  Too many times
in the past, he had come on too quickly to the wrong
people and suffered the consequences.

"It ain't all bad, kid.  Some of the horny guys are
sure to come on to ya...especially since yur a good-
looking piece of meat.  Chat `em up but make damn sure
they're the ones asking for yur service.  Got that?"

"Got it."

"Ya got a decent place to take `em to?"

"No, sir.  I'm afraid I'm...well...I'm looking for a
place to stay."

"Living on the street then, are ya?"

"I'm afraid so."

Pat thought for a moment before saying, "Ya got a nice
body.  Ya talk real good.  I think my customers would
like ya so you'd be good for my business.  But don't
forget you're on probation!  I'll be watching ya!  One
wrong move and yur out on yur ass!"

"Thank you sir.  I'm sure you won't be disappointed."

"One more thing, kid.  Ya gotta clean yourself up.  Ya
look good for living on the street but my customers
will want something better than what ya are now.  Ya
got a place to shower and shave?"

Cory didn't want to admit how he tried to keep clean
and how infrequently he was able to do so.  "That may
be a problem, sir, but I'll do my best."

"Hmmm," Pat mused.  "Tell ya what.  Ya can hang around
tonight just to get a feel of the place.  When we
close, ya can come home with me...sleep on my
couch...shave and shower tomorrow before we open up."

"That's very kind of you, sir."

"No it ain't!  I ain't no charity!  I'm only doing it
`cause I want ya presentable for my customers.  It's a
temporary arrangement...until you git yur own place.
We got a deal, kid?"

"Deal!  And thank you, sir."


CHAPTER TWO

And that's how Cory came to be sitting in the bar,
eyeing the clientele. Most of them noticed him sitting
there but no one approached him.  He was increasingly
discouraged at the patrons' lack of interest in him.
In three long nights at the bar, no one had said more
than hello to him.  One bright spot in his life was
that Pat agreed to let Cory go home with him after
closing the bar.

He needed money.  He needed sex more.  It took every
ounce of discipline he could muster to hold himself
back from propositioning a patron.  But that, he knew,
would cost him a place to sleep and a venue to subtly
offer services.

On the fifth night at Pat's apartment, the bar owner
said, "The couch has got to be uncomfortable, kid.
Would ya like to sleep with me?"

"The couch is fine, sir," Cory replied, thinking it
was far better than anything he had suffered through
lately.

"Let me put it another way," Pat said.  "I get lonely
by myself.  I ain't shared a bed with nobody for too
long.  I'd really like ya to come to bed with me."

Although the old man tried to maintain his gruff
persona, Cory suspected that Pat was implying an
interest in having sex.  He found that to be enticing
-- partly because he wanted to repay his host's
hospitality but mostly because he was horny and would
welcome the sex.  However, he thought he had better
play it safe and let Pat set the agenda.

"Okay," Cory replied.  "If that's what you want."

They undressed in Pat's bedroom.  Cory noticed the old
man couldn't stop admiring his youthful body.  He was,
of course, flattered but welcomed the additional clue
that Pat might interested in more than a night's
sleep.  To more accurately assess the man's interest,
he removed his clothes seductively -- without being
too obvious -- while the man sat on the edge of the
bed in just his boxers watching Cory disrobe.

Finally down to only his boxers, Cory asked with a
deliberate hesitancy to convey innocence, "Is it all
right if I sleep in the nude, sir?"

Without taking his eyes away from the young man's
crotch, Pat said, "Sure, kid.  And cut out the `sir'
crap.  That's okay in the bar.  It shows respect fer
yur elders.  Customers like that.  But here, we can be
friends.  Call me Pat."

Cory grinned and slid his boxers down, letting them
fall to his ankles.  Pat's eyes were riveted to Cory's
soft cock hanging down impressively in front of his
pendulous balls and below a profuse bush of jet-black
pubic hair.  Pat hadn't seen anything so beautiful in
years.

Cory took note of the fact that Pat was developing a
tent in the front of his boxers.  That was all the
evidence he needed for the man's intentions.  On
impulse and contrary to his plan to let Pat set the
agenda, he took three steps toward the man so that he
was standing within arm's reach of his host.  "You can
touch it if you want," Cory said softly.

Without a word, Pat reached out and began fondling
Cory's cock and balls.  He seemed to Cory to be
relishing the opportunity immensely and, indeed, he
was.

Pat watched the young man's cock began to swell and
then slowly rise to a nearly vertical shaft of
hardened readiness.  Still without speaking, much less
asking for permission, Pat grabbed both of Cory's ass
cheeks and pulled him closer.  He started licking up
and down swollen member and progressed to sucking on
Cory's balls, while delving deep into his ass crack
with fingers on both hands.

The expert stimulation put Cory into a state of
euphoria that, for all its intensity, was no match for
Pat's crescendo of arousal.

After an extended period of licking the young man's
cock and balls and rubbing his puckered hole, Pat
wrapped his lips around the helmeted cock head.
Moving his head up and down, he gradually took more
and more into his mouth until the entire length of the
shaft was embedded in his throat.

Cory tried valiantly to prolong the intense pleasure
but finally had to exclaim, "Pat!  I can't hold back!
I'm going to cum!"

His warning was met by a firmer grip on his ass.
Several volleys of hot cream erupted into the old
man's throat. "Arghh!  Oh God!" Cory screamed as the
throes of orgasm engulfed him.  His legs began to lose
their strength and he had to brace himself by holding
on to Pat's shoulders.  Pat continued to suck out the
remaining drops of cum, which only added to Cory's
continuing pleasure.

Moments later, Pat released the softening cock and the
fully satisfied boy's strength returned.  Cory dropped
to his knees and mouthed the man's stiff cock through
his boxers.  But Pat raised the young man and guided
him to lie on the bed.  Lying beside him, he said
softly, "I'd rather fuck ya."

"If that's what you want, sir...I mean Pat.  But I've
never been fucked so please be gentle."

"What!  Yur a virgin?!"

"Back there, yes."

"Hot damn!  Ain't fucked a virgin since I was
eighteen.  Don't worry, kid.  I'll go slow and easy.
Just lemme know if it hurts.  Okay?"

It took a full ten minutes of lubing, fingering, and
coaching before Pat dared to penetrate.  He began to
fear that his erection would fade but the prospect of
a young, virgin ass kept his arousal high.  As he
slowly inserted his throbbing cock into the love
channel, he periodically asked if it hurt.  But Cory
was not to be denied the pleasure of his first fuck
and lied, "No.  Keep going."

As Pat began pistonning in and out, the erotic
sensations, new to Cory, were indescribably
pleasurable.  Pat was no less captured by sensual
delight.  With one final, forceful thrust, Pat
released a load of semen deep into Cory's bowels.

Later, as they cuddled together, the insatiable old
man continued to massage his young companion's chest
and stomach, almost overwhelmed by the near-perfect
young male body that he admired almost to the point of
worship.  He ventured occasionally downward to explore
the thick pubic hair, fondle the virile cock, and toy
with the recently drained balls.  The thrill of having
his hands roam freely over the landscape of a young
man's naked body was extraordinarily pleasurable.  In
his younger days, it would have restored his erection
but, alas, his aging body denied him any hope of an
encore.

Cory enjoyed the attention and was happy that he was
able to provide something his host obviously craved.
He was blissfully contented; after many weeks of
privation and hunger, he was in a warm, clean bed; he
had just enjoyed a thoroughly satisfying orgasm; he
had experienced his first anal penetration -- all with
a man who, in spite of his gruff exterior, was both
kind and shared his appreciation for man-to-man sex.

Before Pat tired of his explorations, Cory fell
asleep.  He awoke late the next morning to find Pat
was not in bed but the smell of bacon frying was
wafting into the bedroom.  He slipped on his boxers,
stopped in the bathroom to pee, and walked into the
kitchen.


CHAPTER THREE

"Yur probably hungry, kid.  Sit yurself down."

Cory was indeed hungry, which brought back painful
memories of near-starvation on the streets but
simultaneously made him grateful for Pat's
hospitality.  He sat down and watched Pat, who was
also wearing only boxers, finish cooking breakfast.
He couldn't help thinking that Pat was remarkably fit,
especially considering that he was 60 years old--
muscular, thoroughly masculine, and in spite of his
slightly bulging waistline and wrinkled face, was
quite handsome.

Pat set two plates with bacon, eggs, and toast on the
table.  "Eat up, kid."

Before beginning to eat, Cory felt compelled to say,
"I can't thank you enough for what you've done--
letting me hang out in the bar, letting me sleep here,
even feeding me.  I wish I could repay you."

"Ya have, kid."

Cory was temporarily confused by the brusque response.
"Oh!  Do you mean last night?" he asked.

"Yeah.  But I got something to say about that.  First
off, ya have no idea how much I enjoyed it.  But it
was sex, nothing more.  Don't get any fancy notions
about companionship.  I'm smart enough to realize that
I'm old and yur young.  I can still get it up but not
as often as you can.  Ya can hustle in the bar all ya
want.  Let the horny men take ya home or to a hotel.
Spend the night if ya want.  Get their rocks off and
yurs, too.  I don't care what ya do with them.  But
I'd like ya to live here with me.  When ya don't have
a John for the whole night, come back here when yur
done.  That don't mean we're partners.  All it means
is that you and me can--once in a while--have some
sex.  That sound okay to you?"

"More than okay, Pat.  But I'd like to add one more
thing to the arrangement.  As soon as I get some
money, I want to pay you rent and help with the
groceries.  I could even give you a share of my
earnings."

"NO!" Pat barked with obvious displeasure.  "That'd be
like I was a pimp!"  Softening his tone, he continued,
"Listen, kid.  Ya probably can't understand but
listen.  I'm an old man.  A lonely man.  I don't have
family.  Even though I'm old, I'm horny.  I haven't
had sex with anybody for years.  And I can't recall
having any better sex than last night.  I'm not asking
for sympathy.  I'm just telling you straight.  Having
ya around...and having sex with ya once in a
while...is worth more to me than anybody could pay me.
Okay, I've had my say.  Deal or no deal?"

"Deal!"

"Good!  Now eat up and get dressed.  We're going
shopping.  Ya need some better clothes.  It ain't
charity; it's a business expense.  If ya look sharp,
my customers will come on to ya and spread the word.
Don't even think of objecting.  We're going shopping!"

Pat took Cory to a few upscale stores and bought him
three outfits--all very dressy and stylish--and very
expensive, the type of clothes his parents used to buy
for him but, he thought, too pricey for Pat's budget.
He protested the extravagance but was silenced with,
"Shut up, kid.  Business is business. Ya gotta look
sharp."

That night in the bar, the new clothes and his
disciplined waiting paid off.  A man of about 40,
wearing a suit and tie, sat next to him and struck up
a conversation.  Before long, the man invited Cory to
spend the night with him.  Cory discretely quoted a
price and the John readily agreed.

Cory could felt proud when he told Pat he was leaving
with a customer for the night but, at the same time,
had a touch of remorse that he was betraying Pat's
friendship.

"Good for you, kid!" Pat enthused.  "Have a good time!
Here's a spare key.  Let yurself in when you come
home."

The grizzly old man's delight surprised and pleased
Cory but it was particularly pleasing to hear the
word, `home.'  He had a home!  Only a person who had
been without a home for weeks could fully appreciate
what that meant.

For the next few weeks, Cory had a customer nearly
every night.  He even got to the point of being able
to decline the advances of men who he mistrusted or
who were unappealing.  But he always came home to the
man who had rescued him.  No matter how much sex he
had had with a customer, he always made himself
available to the once-lonely, once-sex-starved, but
now very happy old man.  Pat was not always interested
in a sexual interlude but was delighted to simply have
someone share his life.  Neither Pat nor Cory spoke of
being `partners' or of having a `committed
relationship' but both had developed an affection for
each other.  It was what Neil, a friend in college,
had described as more important than raw sex but Cory
was, back then, unable to fathom.

Cory was now flush with cash.  He wanted to share in
the rent on Pat's apartment and help with the
groceries but his offers were consistently and
emphatically refused.  So Cory made a habit of
occasionally surprising his benefactor with gifts --
sometimes expensive, sometimes not, but always
carefully matched to Pat's interests and likes.
Cory's greatest gift, however, was the once or twice
weekly sex.  Cory had more than enough sex with
customers to satisfy him but sex with Pat was
especially rewarding, given in gratitude for being
rescued and with the satisfaction of pleasing a man
for whom he had developed a genuine affection.


CHAPTER FOUR

One night a well-dressed and particularly handsome man
approached Cory as he sipped his ginger ale at the
bar.  He introduced himself as `Jim' but that, of
course, may not be his real name.  After a few
minutes, Cory assessed the situation and decided to
accept an invitation if one was extended.  However,
the conversation went on endlessly about the arts,
politics, religion, current events, and more.  Cory
initially participated in the conversation, drawing on
his studies in high school and college.  Half an hour
later, Cory became impatient and began to abandon hope
that Jim would not, after all, be a paying customer.

The nature of the conversation changed abruptly,
however, when Jim said, "You're a bright young man,
Cory.  And very good-looking.  Just the kind of person
I would like to hire."

"I'm not looking for a job," Cory replied
dismissively.

"But would you give me a chance to explain it?" Jim
asked.  "It's not a job with a company.  Let's say you
would be a member of my personal staff."

"Thanks, Jim, but I'm in business for myself.  I have
a number of clients and am very happy with my work."

"I think I know what your business is, Cory.  So
here's another offer.  Come to my home with me.  Right
now.  I'd like you to meet the rest of my staff.  I'll
pay you 200 dollars for two hours of your time.  It
will not require any of the service that you normally
provide to your clients."

What the hell, Cory thought.  The money's good.  I can
be back before the bar closes and maybe pick up a
customer.  Jim is obviously well-to-do and
trustworthy.  And the mystery is intriguing.  "Okay,"
he said.

Jim pulled out his cell phone, hit a speed-dial, said,
"I'm ready," and returned the phone to his pocket.

That puzzled Cory but it was not the only thing about
this strange man that confused him.  On the way out,
he told Pat he would return before closing time.  As
they exited the bar, Jim directed Cory to a limousine
that had just pulled up to a stop in front of the bar.
Cory concluded that Jim was not only well-to-do but
must be very wealthy.

Jim instructed the driver, "Home, please," and pressed
a switch on a console to raise a glass partition
between the driver's and passenger compartment.

"Please forgive my ambiguity back there in the bar,"
Jim said.  "And thanks for accepting my offer.  Now
that we're alone, I can clarify what it is that I'm
looking for."

"I would appreciate that, sir." Cory replied,
reverting to the deferential term, `sir.'

"As I said, the position I want to fill is on my
personal staff.  At any time, either you or I can
choose whether to terminate or extend the employment.
The salary is 200 per week plus room and board.  I
will cover all medical expenses should they be
necessary. The hours are flexible.  You may do as you
please most of the time.  But I will expect you to
make yourself available whenever I desire your
services.  Does that sound agreeable so far?"

"So far," Cory said hesitantly.  "And what `services'
might you require?"

"I'll be frank.  Sex.  If that offends you, I'll pay
your for your time and take you back to the bar."

"No, sir.  We both know what I do for a living.  But I
still need to know more about the situation."

"That's understandable.  I normally retain a staff of
four young men.  One of them recently chose to
relocate to Florida, leaving a vacancy that is yours
if you want it and if you are compatible with my other
staff members.  You see, I have certain criteria.  One
is youth and good looks.  Another is intelligence.
You meet those criteria.  Still another is that my
existing staff must approve of you.  I doubt very much
that will be a problem."

Jim paused to gauge Cory's reaction but was mildly
surprised when the young man said, "I suppose another
criterion is my performance, my skill level."

"Yes, but demonstrating your ability must await
completion of a few other details."

"Such as?"

"First of all, a medical exam.  I need to be sure that
you're not bringing something into the household that
would jeopardize our health.  Secondly, we must agree
on certain rules of behavior.  You may engage in
consensual sexual behavior with me or any of my staff
but with no one else ... no one.  Are you willing to
agree to that?"

That caused Cory to think ... of Pat.  "The medical
examination is prudent and acceptable, sir.  But I
can't agree to the rest."

"You must," Jim said.  "It, too, is prudent.  You may
test clean but I can't risk your picking up some
disease later and infecting me or my staff."

"I'm sorry, sir.  I recognize the need for the
restriction but I have someone ... someone special ...
to whom I owe a great deal.  He and I have a bond.
It's not a committed relationship; we're not partners
in the usual sense of the word but I cannot abandon
him."

"I admire your honesty, Cory.  That's a quality I
expect in all of my staff.  But I must insist on
strict compliance."

At that point, the limousine pulled to a stop in front
of a deluxe high-rise condominium on Park Avenue.
Cory recognized it; it was just two blocks from his
parents' home but was a considerably more prestigious
address.

"As long as we're here, Cory, please come upstairs and
meet my staff.  We can talk more about your
opportunity over drinks."

Reluctant but curious about Jim's staff, Cory agreed.

Jim touched an intercom button and told the driver,
"Please wait.  My friend will need a ride back to
where we met."

"Yes, sir," came the reply.

On the way into the building, the doorman said, "Good
evening, Mr. Anderson."  That removed Cory's suspicion
that `Jim' was an assumed name; he was obviously not
concerned about concealing his identity or address.

"Good evening, Stephan," Jim replied.

They took the elevator to the penthouse.  Upon
entering the lavish and very tastefully decorated
apartment, Cory almost gasped.  But the awe he felt
was nothing compared to his impression of the three
young men lounging in the expansive living room.  They
rose to greet their employer and his guest.  Cory's
heart skipped a beat as he quickly assessed their
stunningly handsome faces and remarkable physiques.

Jim made introductions.  "Cory, I'd like you to meet
my staff."  Pointing to each in turn, he continued,
"This is Felipe.  He's currently attending NYU and
will no doubt be a brilliantly successful engineer one
day.  Next is Sam, recently arrived from North Dakota
to enjoy big city life.  He spends much of his free
time as a tourist, exploring the city.  And finally,
this is Alex.  He's also new to the staff.  As you can
see, he spends a lot of time working out in the
residents' private health club downstairs.  By the
way, you'll have access to the facility if you join my
staff."

Each of the young men shook Cory's hand as they were
introduced and greeted him warmly.  Cory's crotch was
tingling with excitement as he marveled at the `stable
of studs' that Jim kept.  He had to mentally distract
himself to keep his cock from swelling.

"Gentlemen," Jim said to his three `employees,'  "Cory
is a successful entrepreneur with a number of
satisfied clients.  I'm hoping to convince him to join
us ... provided, of course, that you agree with me
that he has the requisite potential.  Why don't you
get acquainted while I fix us some refreshments?"

The three young men ushered Cory into the living room
as Jim disappeared through a hallway, presumably to
the kitchen.

During a thirty minute conversation, Cory learned more
about each of Jim's staff.  Felipe, a relatively short
but perfectly proportioned 20-year old, was born in
Houston to illegal immigrants.  His parents returned
to Mexico but, being a citizen and legally an adult,
Felipe chose to stay in the U.S.  Jim recruited him
while on a business trip and brought him to New York
with the promise of a more than comfortable life style
and the agreement to pay for his college education.
Sam was not quite nineteen years old and as handsome
as the others.  He met Jim while working as a waiter.
Although it took three months for him to agree to join
Jim's staff, he was especially effusive about the
perks of the `job.'  His parents didn't approve but
maintained a friendly if formal relationship with
their errant son.  Alex, only a few months beyond his
eighteenth birthday and the muscular one, grew up in
an orphanage, was constantly bullied by the other
orphans, and took to body-building as a defensive
strategy.

The three would slip in questions to Cory who, because
he was made to feel so comfortable, revealed more
about his background and interests than he had
intended.  His potential `co-workers' were impressed
with his having attended Georgetown, seemed to be
understanding about his past difficulties while
seeking sex, and were sympathetic over his parents'
cruel rejection of him.  Cory was candid about his
temporary period of homelessness and his current
career as a hustler.  He had to explain how Pat had
welcomed him as a house guest but avoided mentioning
their special relationship.  That, he knew, would have
to be negotiated with Jim.

Jim returned to the group pushing a serving cart
loaded with a variety of edibles and soft drinks.

"Help yourself, gentlemen," he urged.  "I think it's
time for some serious discussion.  Cory, we're going
to talk very candidly.  Be assured, however, that if
you are uncomfortable with the conversation and want
to leave, you're free to do so.  Just say the word.
No hard feelings.  Okay?"

"Okay," Cory replied, suddenly a little anxious
because of Jim's warning.

"First of all," Jim began, "The `job' I'm considering
you for is to be my sex partner along with the others
you've met tonight.  You may wonder why I want four
partners.  The answer is simple.  I have a very strong
appetite for sex and I'm fortunate enough to be able
to afford the variety in partners that I prefer.  I
select one of my staff to sleep with me every night.
That, of course, includes some form of sex before we
sleep and often when we wake up.  Everyone has a
private bedroom but I should add that you and the
others are free to have sex whenever you want provided
it doesn't conflict with any request from me for your
services.  I'll be reasonable in my demands on your
time but I expect you to accommodate my needs.  From
time to time, we get together for a three, four, or
five-way.  Does that appeal to you?"

"Yes, sir," Cory replied in a subdued tone to mask his
obvious delight at having frequent sex with such
desirable partners.

There are a few other rules.  One: all sex with other
staff must be consensual.  Two: I won't tolerate
jealousy.  If you feel I'm favoring someone over you,
just get over it.  Conversely, if I seem to require
more of you than one or more of the others, live with
it.  Three: kinky stuff is allowed if the participants
agree but under no circumstance will there be any
unnecessary pain or even the risk of injury.  Finally,
as I explained on the way over here, I insist that you
have no sexual contact with anyone other that those of
us in the room right now.  Any questions so far?"

"A few," Cory admitted.  "I understand you're helping
Felipe with college.  Would I be able to complete my
degree?"

"Yes, but it is not part of your basic compensation.
I will pay tuition, fees, and books as long as you
keep your grades up.  But it will be a no-interest
loan to be repaid in negotiated installments after you
graduate ... or drop out of school."

"Fair enough," Cory replied.  "I've noticed that we're
all young.  I assume that is a requisite for
continuing employment."

"True enough," Jim said.  "My staff is young.  Let's
say I have a special fondness for youthful partners.
To be blunt, they turn me on faster than more mature
men.  What they may lack in experience and technique
is more than offset by their vigor and stamina.
Implied in your question, however, is another.  This
will be a short-term assignment, three years at the
most and then I will want to replace you with someone
younger.  Remember, I mentioned on the drive here that
both you and I retain the right to terminate the
relationship at will.  Does that sound reasonable?"

"More than fair," Cory acknowledged.  "But there's a
final sticking point we must discuss.  You insist on
prohibiting sex outside the group.  I'm not sure I can
agree to that.  I would easily forego servicing
clients.  I can assure you that I would not engage in
any casual encounters; why should I when I would have
this group?  But, as I told you before, I have an on-
going, very special relationship with a man to whom I
owe a great deal.  He rescued me from a life of hell
and I have developed a great affection for him -- not
as a committed partner, he's already ruled that out
but as a very dear and special friend.  You see, he's
sixty years old.  He has no family.  He's lonely and
extremely frustrated.  He's surrounded with gay men
every day but, until he met me, couldn't satisfy his
craving for sex.  I would hate to deny him the
pleasure he needs and deserves."

Jim was quiet for a few minutes while the three young
men tried to understand why Cory would insist on
maintaining a relationship when Jim was so generous.

Finally, Jim said, "It's Pat, then, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir.  You may not know the Pat that I've learned
to know.  Under his gruff, demanding, business-comes-
first exterior, he's a true gentleman with compassion
and integrity that is rare.  He, among all the people
I've met, deserves to be happy.  And if I can bring
him that happiness, I will gladly do so."

Jim seemed perplexed at Cory's insistence.  Why would
he want to continue servicing an old man at the risk
of losing out on such a generous offer?  It presented
a dilemma.  On the one hand, Cory had the body and
mind that surpassed his requirements.  They were
enough to make his crotch tingle in anticipation of
bedding the young stud.  Moreover, his loyalty to Pat
was an excellent indication that he would reliably
conform to the terms of employment.  On the other
hand, however, granting Cory an exception might set a
dangerous precedent; others might request a similar
privilege.

After an awkward silence, Jim said, "Well.  It seems
you have a decision to make: accept my offer and abide
by my rules or keep hustling in the bar.  I may also
have a decision to make: bend my rules or withdraw my
offer.  I'll have my driver take you back to the bar
while I consult with my staff.  Remember, I told you
that a criterion for employment was that you must be
compatible with them.  Can I stop by the bar tomorrow
evening for your decision?"

"Of course," Cory replied.  "If I'm not there, I'll be
with a client and you can leave a message with Pat."

"Hmm," Jim mused.  "Do you intend to discuss my offer
with Pat?  Including the rule about no outside sex?"

"I don't know, sir.  I know he would strongly
encourage me to accept your offer.  But I'm pretty
sure it would be a great disappointment for him."

"Very well," Jim conceded.  "Let me call the driver
and escort you downstairs.  But before you go, let me
thank you for your time and for being honest."

"And I thank you, sir.  I appreciate the offer and,
may I say, flattered by it."

Going down in the elevator, Jim gave Cory the promised
payment and said, "I'll stop by the bar early tomorrow
with the hope of catching you before you find a
customer."


CHAPTER FIVE

Upon returning to his apartment, Jim summoned his
staff and asked them, one by one, for their opinion.

Felipe was impressed by Cory's articulate conversation
and interest in completing his education.  He also
admitted to being somewhat aroused over the prospect
of having sex with a newcomer.

Sam was more guarded in his appraisal.  "I can't be
sure, Jim," he said.  "He's a good-looker, to be sure
and he handles himself well in a new situation.  But,
to be honest, I don't know much about his body.  I
wish we could have seen his cock and balls and
asshole."

"He's got what he needs," Felipe countered.  "He's
been servicing Johns, hasn't he?"

"I suppose you're right," Sam said meekly.

Alex, the former orphan, offered comments that were
transparently sympathetic.  "He's had a tough life
lately.  Lost his parents.  Living on the street.  I
think we should invite him in with us."

Jim listened thoughtfully to all of the opinions and
then said, "But what about his insistence on
continuing to have sex with Pat?"

"If he's clean," Felipe said, "then we've got to know
that Pat is clean.  That's what the rule is for isn't
it?  To make sure none of us get infected with an STD?
I say cut him some slack.  Let him visit Pat, maybe
twice a week, to get his rocks off."

The other teens agreed.  In the continuation of the
conversation, all three promised not to seek any
favors similar to the one granted to Cory.

"Thank you for your opinions, gentlemen," Jim said to
conclude the discussion. "I'll use them to make my
decision and let you know tomorrow--after I talk to
Cory--whether he will be joining us."

The limousine stopped in front of the bar.  Cory
stepped out without waiting for the driver to open his
door.  Three men were about to enter the bar and were
more than surprised to see a youngster exit the
limousine and enter the bar.  Two of the men were a
couple but the third had come with hopes of finding
someone to share his bed for the night.  He was struck
by Cory's youth and good looks and moved in before
anyone else had a chance to snare the prize.

"Hi there," he said, perhaps a little too
enthusiastically.

Cory returned the greeting and went into the bar.  The
man caught up with him and asked, "Care to join me for
a drink?"

Corey, as had become his habit, instantly formed a
first impression, concluding, at least tentatively,
that he would be an acceptable customer.  That was a
recent development: being able to accept or reject an
invitation rather than having to seize every
opportunity.

"No thanks," Cory said politely.  "I'm just stopping
by to talk to Pat, the owner."

"Maybe later?" the man asked hopefully.  "If not
tonight, I can meet you another night."

`Desperate,' Cory thought.  `Attractive but a little
too desperate.  Not cool!'  "Perhaps," he said as he
walked quickly to the end of the bar and caught Pat's
eye.

Pat, responding to Cory's implied request, came over
and said, "Hey, kid.  Everything all right?"

"Just fine," Cory replied.  "If you don't mind, I'd
like to take the night off...just go home and relax.
I'll wait up for you."

"Sure, kid.  Tuesday's a slow night anyway.  Are ya
sure yur all right?"

"I'm sure, Pat.  No need to worry.  I'll see you
later."

Cory walked home.  He had a lot of thinking to do.
While waiting for Pat to come home, he weighed his
options.  He could accept Jim's offer and obey his
clear requirement to eliminate outside sex.  As he
thought about it, the image of a handsome Jim and
three extremely attractive teens tended to lure him
toward joining Jim's `staff.'  He acknowledged to
himself that his sexual appetite was probably equal to
Jim's and, no doubt, his three `employees.'  He would
never have to take a risk of some John with kinky
tastes would inflict pain or injury.  Disease would no
longer be a worry.  Most importantly, his lust for the
four males in a luxurious Park Avenue penthouse was
powerfully persuading him to make the move.

But then he thought of Pat, a gruff but compassionate
man who, without him, would be forced back into a life
of lonely isolation.  Having tasted the savory wine of
sensual delight (He chuckled at the poetic phrasing.)
for a few weeks, could he adjust to a life of solitary
abstinence and frustration?

As he wrestled with his dilemma, he realized that his
affection for Pat (dare he call it `love?') had grown
to be a significant part of his new life.  But Pat, in
spite of being physically fit was inevitably growing
older.  The day would come, perhaps soon, when he
would neither be able nor be interested in sex.  Or,
for that matter, the obligation of caring for a
teenager.

Hours passed and Cory was no closer to a decision.

Finally, he heard the key in the front door lock.  Pat
came in and immediately asked, "Are ya all right,
kid?"

"Yes, Pat.  I'm fine.  Really."

"If you say so, kid.  By the way, there was a guy kept
asking for ya.  The guy that came in behind ya.
Wanted to know when you would be in the bar again.
Stayed till almost closing time.  Gave me his card to
give to ya.  Said you could call him anytime.  If ya
ask me, which you didn't but I'll tell ya anyway, I
think ya could double yur price and he wouldn't bat an
eye."

"Thanks, Pat.  I may call him later.  Right now, all I
want is to be with you.  You look tired.  Can I give
you a massage?"

"Matter of fact," the old man replied, "That would
feel pretty good."

"Get undressed...all the way...and get into bed.  I'll
be with you in a minute."


CHAPTER SIX

Thinking that this would be the last, or one of the
last times with Pat, he was going to make it a very
special occasion.  He had slipped out during the
evening and bought some massage oil.  "Relaxing but
not too fragrant," he had told the clerk.  Somewhat
embarrassed at having to ask, he said, "Can you give
me some tips on how to give a massage?"

"That depends," said the clerk with a grin.  "Is it
for sore muscles, overall tenseness, or just to
provide a pleasant experience?"

Cory certainly would not admit his purpose was erotic
stimulation so he said, "Let's just say overall
tenseness."

The clerk kindly gave him a few pointers and concluded
by saying, "Let your patient guide you.  Watch her
response...or `his' as the case may be."  She tried to
gauge her customer's reaction but Cory gave no clue as
to the gender of his `patient.'

Having warmed the oil as the clerk suggested, Cory
went into the bedroom to find Pat nude and lying on
his stomach.

Starting at Pat's shoulders and neck, Cory slowly
worked down to his waist.  Then he worked on each leg,
working from the soles of the feet upward.  "Watch his
response," the clerk told him.  He did.  Pat was
obviously enjoying the attention but his sighs of
pleasure increased as Cory began kneading the cheeks
of his ass, delving occasionally into the crack and
giving prolonged and gentle stimulation to his pucker.

After nearly thirty minutes, Cory said, "Roll over,
Pat.  I need to do your chest."

Obediently, the old man rolled over, giving Cory a
very contented smile and saying, "Where'd ya learn how
to do that, kid?"

"You like it?"

"Never had nothing better," Pat purred.  "Except maybe
sex."

"We'll get to that," Cory replied.  "That is, if you
want to."

Pat's face bloomed with a devilish grin as Cory began
massaging the broad shoulders and well-defined chest.
He worked his way slowly down to the reddish pubic
hair and then moved to the inside of Pat's thighs.  As
he erotically rubbed oil into the sensitive skin under
his wrinkled ball sack, he was delighted to see Pat's
cock slowly inflate.  When it reached its maximum
stiffness, Cory dropped his head down to deliver the
final act of admiration and affection for the old man.

He licked softly and teasingly at first as if playing
with the hardened cock to make it twitch.  Pat's moans
grew louder--music to the young man's ears.  He
wrapped his lips around the bulging cock head and
teased it with his tongue, which sent Pat into a state
of delirious pleasure.  He slipped a finger into Pat's
ass and soon found his prostate.  The combination of
sensations caused Pat to begin bucking his hips as if
pleading for more.  Cory let the old man fuck his face
until, with a scream and a forceful thrust, Pat buried
his cock in the young man's throat and shot a massive
load of cum.

While Pat recovered from his intense orgasm, Cory laid
down beside him with an arm draped across his manly
chest and his head lying on his shoulder.

Pat was quiet for what seemed to Cory to be an
unusually long time but finally said, "Kid, that was
fuckin' awesome.  Yur a real pro."

"If you liked it, Pat, I'm happy."

They cuddled together for a long time.  Both of them
were working up courage to express their feelings
toward each other.

Cory spoke first.  "Pat, I've told you many times how
grateful I am for helping me.  But I've got to say
something else.  The fact of the matter is, Pat, I
love you.  I've never loved anybody except as a little
boy loving his parents.  I've wanted to love somebody
for a long time without really knowing what it would
be like.  Now I know.  I know you don't want to commit
to a permanent gay relationship.  And I'm willing to
accept that.  But whatever happens, please understand
that I love you."

By saying `whatever happens,' Cory was, however
ineffectually, trying to prepare Pat for a separation
should he decide to move in with Jim.

For the first time, Cory saw Pat's eyes water.  The
incongruity of tears in the eyes of a gruff, macho,
muscular man was astonishing.

"I got something to say too, kid.  If I had a son...or
a grandson for that matter...I'd want him to be
exactly like you.  Yur smart.  Damn good-looking.
Considerate.  And ya've brought me more happiness than
I ever dreamed possible.  I don't mean just the sex,
kid, although that's been a joy.  I mean having you
around.  But I ain't going to fool myself.  I know I'm
an old man and ya got yur life ahead of ya.  Ya gotta
think of yurself, kid.  Do what ya gotta do.  Don't
let me be a friggin anchor to hold you back."

Cory kissed Pat on the cheek and said, "I love you.
Don't ever forget or doubt that."

Pat looked at the adoring boy and said, "I love ya,
kid.  But let's not get all mushy about it.  Let's
just enjoy the time we got together."

Cory got undressed and cuddled up to Pat again.
Within a few minutes, the old man was sleeping
blissfully but Cory was awake a long time, still
trying to decide whether to accept Jim's offer.

When morning came, Cory had made his decision.

Pat and Cory went to the bar at five to tidy up the
place and re-stock the coolers and shelves.
Promptly at six, Pat unlocked the front
door.  Moments later, a limousine pulled up at the
curb outside and Jim strode into the bar.

"Cory," he said.  "Is there someplace we can talk?"

"Pick a table," Cory replied.

They sat in a corner table at the back of the bar
while Pat wondered who Cory's customer was.

"Before you say anything, Cory.  I want to tell you
what a fantastic impression you made on my staff.
Their opinion of you is just as high as mine.  Largely
on their insistence, I've decided to relax my rules in
your case.  We all feel that you're a prize to be won
at any cost.  In short, pending the medical exam, of
course, you have the job.  You can visit Pat--but no
one else.  Knowing the hours he keeps here at the bar,
I think daytime visits with him wouldn't interfere
with your duties at my place.  Finally, let me say
that we are all looking forward to your joining us."

Cory was surprised at Jim's concession.  He hadn't
expected it.  Still, he looked down at his folded
hands on the table for several moments before
responding.

"Mr. Anderson, sir.  I'm immensely flattered by your
opinion of me.  And I greatly appreciate your
invitation, especially allowing me to visit Pat.  I've
thought of very little else since last evening and
finally made a decision.  I respectfully decline your
offer."

"You what?" Jim exclaimed loudly enough to draw Pat's
attention.  Lowering his voice, he continued, "I'm
offering you something that other young men would kill
for.  I've even granted your unreasonable demand to
visit an old man.  How can you possibly justify
throwing away such an opportunity?"

"Don't get me wrong, sir.  Your offer was very
tempting and extremely generous.  You and your staff
members turned me on almost to the point of having a
full-blown erection and pleading for all of you to
strip so I could suck the juices out of you.  Like
you, I have a nearly insatiable appetite for sex and
the thought of having four sex partners constantly
available would have been, not long ago, my idea of
heaven.  All of that complicated my decision.  It also
made me critically evaluate what means the most to me.
I came to the conclusion that I genuinely love Pat.
I'm not with him out of sympathy for an old man.  I
don't do things for him out of gratitude for rescuing
me from the street.  That was the case at first but
I've come to know him, to appreciate what's below that
stern, unschooled exterior.  In short, Mr. Anderson,
I've fallen in love with him.  For me, at this point
in my life, I have the best of all possible worlds.  I
can service clients of my choosing to get all the sex
I need and come home to a man I love dearly.  Sex with
him is on a higher plane.  And he, by the way, loves
me unconditionally.  With respect, sir, what you offer
is only half of that: plenty of sex but no abiding
love."

Jim stared at the articulate young man in astonishment
that gave way to an understanding of what he was
saying.  Finally, he said, "I was impressed with you
when I first saw you, Cory.  Our conversation at the
bar only increased my high regard for you.  Your
honesty when we spoke in my apartment revealed to me
and my staff your fundamental character.  It's a great
disappointment not to have you join us.  But I must
tell you one more thing.  I'm jealous.  I'm wealthy.
I have all the material comforts a man could want.  I
have three, sometimes four young studs to fulfill my
sexual desires.  But I don't have something that you
do: love.  I cannot condemn you for refusing my offer.
I can only wish you continued happiness."

"Thank you for understanding, sir."

Jim stood, flipped open his cell phone, hit a speed
dial, waited a moment, and said, "I'm ready."  He
returned the phone to his pocket and started walking
to the door.  Halfway there, he looked at Pat very
briefly, turned, and called to Cory, "If you change
your mind, you know how to reach me."

Cory simply said, "Yes, sir."

Pat came over to where Cory was seated and asked,
"What was that all about?"

"Just a customer who didn't want to take `no' for an
answer."

"Getting pretty picky, aren't ya, kid?  He looked like
a live one to me."

Cory stood and squeezed the old man's hand.  "I've got
everything I want right now," he said.