Date: Mon, 20 Jul 2015 09:27:49 -0400
From: CJ Abello <cjabello1997@gmail.com>
Subject: CJ: Summer: Chapter 4

CJ: Summer: Chapter 3
Mansion on the Hill
Gay Male-High School

This is a work of fiction set in the real world.
Certain living individuals make appearances in the story; all other
characters and the events in which they all participate are the creation of
the author.
Any resemblance of the fictional characters to actual individuals is purely
coincidental.

Friday, 17 May 2013

Before going to bed, the guys agreed to skip their regular morning workout
and did not set the alarm clock for zero dark thirty as they did most
days. It was half past seven when Cesar, closely followed by Brett,
strolled into the kitchen. The room was flooded with light streaming in
through the windows overlooking the back of their property, and the Potomac
River at the bottom of the hill.

"Blessed be he who invented the automatic coffeemaker," said Cesar as he
poured two mugs?handing one to the Marine. "Wanna cut up some melon and
pineapple? I'll start the oatmeal while you do that."

"Sure," replied Brett. "I'd suggest double our normal, I learned my lesson
last summer.  Remember the amounts of food eaten by male teenagers in
captivity?speak of the devil."

"Morning, dads," greeted a smiling CJ as he rubbed the last of his sleep
from his eyes with one hand, and scratched his ass with the other one. He
kissed both men on the cheek and ambled towards the coffeemaker.

"Morning, sunshine," echoed both men. With the kid facing away, Brett
looked at his partner, pointed at his crotch, and then at the kid. They
started to laugh together.

"What?" whined CJ.

Brett just pointed to the kid's boxers, which were still slightly tented by
his morning erection. CJ quickly turned around, and again whined. "Come
oooon, give me a break, it's too early to start picking on me."

"Don't worry about it, baby boy, no women or tight-assed military around,
so it's all good," said Cesar

"You saying I don't have a tight ass?"

"Stop! Don't start again. TMI, T M F I, too much FUCKING information,"
interrupted their son, echoing his comment from the previous day. "I may
have spent the evening under the same roof as you two pervs, but I'm still
an impressionable kid and you're discussing unnatural acts between
sodomites in front of me!" The caffeine was obviously doing its job; CJ was
more alert by the minute.

"Oh hush! Stop your whining and your quarter words. Be useful and get out
some plates, glasses, cutlery and napkins, and the OJ," snapped back a
smiling Brett.  Putting his coffee mug down, CJ did as instructed. He
pulled plates and glasses from one of the upper cabinets, and tableware
from the big drawer built into the island next to the stove. It separated
the kitchen proper from the remainder of the open space occupying most of
the townhouse's first floor. With seating for four, the island was their
main dining spot. The large table seating twelve, was used for dinner with
the gang or business associates, and during parties.

Before setting down the juice container, he opened it up and took a swig
from it, causing both his fathers to start laughing again. The boy looked
at them, then at the carton in his hand and looked further down at his feet
while blushing.

"Ughhh, sorry."

"Don't worry about it, your dad does the same thing all the time, I guess
bad habits are genetic," quipped Brett, lifting the juice container with
his right hand and taking a large gulp of the liquid sunshine himself.

"Hey, Papa, is that a new tattoo on the inside of your bicep? I don't
remember seeing it before.  Those dates, is it in memory of somebody? What
do the words in the circle mean?"

"Yeah, had it done earlier this year in honor of my grandfather." There was
a small sad smile on the marine's face as he explained the design to CJ. It
says, min farfar min polare min hj„lte?it's Swedish. It translates to:
my grandfather, my pal, my hero. Those are the years of his birth and
death. A dozen years after he died, I still miss him."

x x x

CJ's smile, on the other hand was broad, a sure sign the boy was in high
spirits. He realized he really liked hanging with his dads this early in
the morning, all of them relaxed, wearing just boxers, and getting to know
each other better. This type of attitude, and the easy conversation, would
have never taken place back in Miami. His mom would have bitched up a
storm, if either his brother or he walked around the house without a shirt,
much less pants. His stepfather always looked worried about something or
other, he was rarely visibly relaxed. The kid was liking the move to DC
more and more every minute.

Looking at the food being prepared, he saw breakfast was not a complicated
affair, but still seemed tasty. The fresh fruit looked juicy, the cinnamon
bagels had just popped out of the toaster with a delicious smell, and the
stuff steaming in the pot on the range was steel cut oatmeal, he was
told. He was used to the instant oatmeal stuff, but after tasting what his
dads prepared, he found the nutty and crunchy combination of it much more
appealing, and very much to his liking. The chopped dried dates his dad had
thrown in while cooking provided a slight sweetness which made the stuff
all the more enjoyable.

While eating, his dads discussed their tentative plans for the day with
him. Brett suggested they take advantage of the beautiful weather by
walking, and taking the Metro, instead of driving and having to deal with
parking. Breakfast eaten, and the kitchen picked up, all three headed
upstairs to shower and dress. The boy was back in the kitchen, sipping on
another cup of coffee, when his dads eventually joined him. CJ was wearing
khaki cargo shorts, a green, Greenpeace T-shirt, and black and tan D&C
shoes. The older men were similarly attired, wearing polo shirts instead of
a tee, however, and hiking boots with thick socks reaching to the bottom of
their calves for footwear.

Their first stop was the PNC Bank, on the corner of M Street, and Wisconsin
Avenue. CJ, always interested in beautiful architecture, had admired the
impressive classical style building, with the gilded cupola during his
previous visits to Washington. He had discovered it once was the Georgetown
location for Riggs Bank. After the troubled bank was sold in 2005, the new
owners brought in Cristiano Pereira to run the branch. That was the man
they were going to meet with.

x x x

"It was great to hear from you guys last night, and to find out CJ was back
in town earlier than expected. Doc was damn excited this morning, about
having lunch with the three of you."  Chip Pereira stood as the three
casually attired visitors were shown into his office by Dwayne, his
administrative assistant.

The young, African American man, had at one point been made aware the two
men were part of his boss' close circle of friends. His daily
responsibilities, included monitoring accounts for selected clients who
maintained accounts at the bank, with high balances of money in them.
Cesar and Brett were part of that small group of account holders. He was
always attentive to and helpful with their needs. The two men always being
pleasant and curteous, probably ensured the first-class treatment was not a
hard chore for the admin.

Chip had met Cesar two years after moving to DC, during a get acquainted
reception at the bank, for partners and senior managers, in large
firms. PNC wanted to introduce the new branch manager to individuals who
could refer business to the bank.  When the banker began seeing Matt, a
bank customer who was a friend of the accountant, Chip and Cesar began
socializing. Soon after, Brett entered the picture, and the two couples
ended up going out together now and then. Eventually, all became close
friends.

"Sit down, guys. Welcome back to DC, CJ. Well, I guess with you here the
Elite Eight will become the Nifty Nine for the summer?" referring to their
close-knit group of friends.

"Hey I've been to that website. Fucking hot stories!" exclaimed CJ, as he
shook the hand of the silver haired banker. The boy suddenly realized what
he had said, covered his mouth with his hand, and blushed brightly, while
looking down at his shoes. He had met the banker the previous year, when
the boy had spent part of the summer vacation with his fathers.

"Well, I see the youngster will fit right in with you two perverts!"
quipped the smiling Mr.  Pereira.

"Asshole!" his two clients replied.

Chip received a quick summary of the previous week's events, and was
promised a detailed version during their planned get-together on Sunday. He
was surprised to hear the move was permanent, and commented his other half
would probably now start pestering him, about his children living in New
York, hoping to get them to DC more frequently. Matt love kids, and had
developed a great rapport with Chip's son, who was the same age as CJ. Over
the next hour, they added the young man to his dads' household checking and
credit card accounts, gave him a key for their safety deposit box, and
finally was issued his first debit card ever. It would access funds in the
new account opened for him, with a transfer of a thousand bucks from his
fathers.

Cesar explained to his son, that in lieu of an allowance, they were
authorizing transfers into his account whenever the balance dipped below a
pre-set amount. They would discuss what household chores he would be
responsible for some time later. He should feel free to overspend in an
emergency, the account carried overdraft protection. Smiling, he cautioned
CJ that in a way this was a test of his ability to handle finances, and
extracted a promise to ask for help if in doubt. The adults had agreed to
treat their boy as a grown up, and to trust his judgment whenever feasible.

"Hey, buddy, do you have a cell phone?" asked Chip.

"Our next stop I think, correct, Dads?"

"Great! Here's my card with all my numbers. The house one is written on the
back, but the mobile is the best way to find me. I'll have my assistant add
you to my hot list, your calls will always be a priority. I'm looking
forward to seeing you Sunday when we go out on the boat, and to hear the
rest of your story; I think you're going to enjoy living in DC full time.

"Oh wow! Cristiano Humberto Israel Pereira, the first letters of all your
names make up Chip!  Sick!"

"Good looking, and smart, must take after his mother's side of the family!"
joked Chip. "But I notice he uses that foreign language known as
teen-speak, we may have problems understanding him sometimes." The banker
smiled, rose, and shook hands with all three men again, restating how much
he looked forward to hanging out with them in two days.

x x x

Walking out of the bank, the perpetually horny kid noticed a hot red head
strolling in. The guy was about his own height, with short rust colored
hair, and muscles all over. The polo shirt he wore, was tightly stretched
around his chest and biceps, offering up a nice display of his well-
developed body.

"Stop drooling," said Brett, smirking. CJ's face turned beet red with
embarrassment once again.

"Come on, guys, let's head over to Virginia," said Cesar. "We'll catch the
train to go downtown."

The walk from Georgetown, took approximately thirty minutes; the sky was
clear of clouds, the sun was bright, and the Potomac, seen from Key Bridge
as they strolled across it, shimmered and sparkled in the sunshine. Their
next stop was the T-Mobile store, they would be boarding the train at the
Roslyn station, to reach it. This was the closest place to their home where
they could get on the Metro.

"How come there are no stations in Georgetown?" asked CJ. "Seems kinda
silly what with all the students at the university and all the nice
restaurants and stores in the area."

The answer came from Papa Brett, "I remember reading that back in the late
sixties and early seventies, area residents opposed a station being built
in their neighborhood when the system was planned. The expressed main fear,
was the train would bring large crowds to their quaint residential area,
and make it easy for criminal elements to reach their neighborhood. The
commentary I read suggested there was an element of racism
there. Georgetown has a very white population, unlike the rest of the
District. Many of our neighbors have expressed regret over the stance taken
at the time."

During the ride, the Android vs iPhone conversation was rehashed. Even
though most of CJ's friends back in South Florida had iPhones, he was
excited to get a new Samsung Galaxy S4, just like the one his dads used. He
would have to get accustomed to the 202 area code, instead of the 305 he
grew up with in Miami. The new phone was definitely a hit with CJ, as soon
they put it in his hands, he was at the Google Play store downloading
apps. He liked the unlimited everything plan just as much; his new number
was just added to his dads existing account.

The morning's final stop was the Smithsonian Museum administrative offices
at The Castle. CJ was signed up as a Resident Partner, at an annual cost of
twenty-five hundred dollars, to match the membership level held by both
Cesar and Brett. The boy was flabbergasted at the way his dads were
throwing money around. His father was a partner in one of the gigantic
accounting firms, but a young one, so not yet making the high salary which
would come with seniority.

Papa was a Captain in the Marine Corps, and CJ knew military personnel were
underpaid in the United States. It wasn't even lunchtime and between the
bank account, the phone, and this membership, they had spent almost four
grand on him already. This was quite a change from his tight-fisted
stepfather, who watched every penny they spent. Rich was not a believer in
wasting money on what he considered frivolous expenses. A top-of-the-line
phone, and a museum membership would qualify as such. The kid was starting
to worry.

"Hey, buddy, do you own a tux?" asked Cesar.

"Nope. Are you kidding, dad? I've never had to wear one."

"We'll have to add one to the shopping list, but we'll take care of it
later. We need to go through your wardrobe; the membership here will mean
at least one black tie event a year and there will be plenty more of them."

"Dad, Papa, y'all are spending a lot of money on me. I don't want to become
a burden considering how you guys were not even thinking of having me here
full time." CJ's voice reflected the worry he was experiencing?this might
all be too good to be true.

"I'll handle this one, Emperor," Brett said. "Bud, I inherited some money
from my grandpa when he died, we can discuss details at another time. Since
what's mine is your dad's, he's therefore also doing okay. My favorite
accountant here, is also very conveniently a financial wizard; he's
invested wisely, making us some more money. We're both thrilled to have you
with us, and I know your dad wants to try and make up for the lost time
with you. You may as well get used to the idea you're part of this
family. We're fine financially, and we take care of our own. Consider it
our way of spending the money we didn't have to waste on diapers and baby
sitters, and a thank you, for the fact you're already house broken. Now
let's go eat!"

x x x

Dr. Matthew Jason Calhoun strolled into the Castle Cafe looking more like a
football player than a physician. The rugged looking man, with the mop of
dirty blond hair, smiled when he saw his friends sitting down, and moved in
their direction.

"Howdy boys, mighty fine to see y'all. Welcome back, kiddo," drawled the
southerner in his distinctive accent. On a previous trip, CJ had learned
Uncle Matt had graduated from Auburn University and then gone to John
Hopkins Medical School, in Baltimore. CJ had in time realized Doc was able
to turn his Alabama sound off at will, but it naturally came out when he
wasn't paying attention or in a good mood. "I'll enjoy visiting with you on
a regular basis, bubba. Just had a call from Chip with the good news your
move is permanent."

"Thanks, Uncle Matt! Like I told Chip a little earlier, I think I'm going
to enjoy living in DC, and hanging with you old farts until I can find some
hotties my own age."

"Ouch! You just placed one foot outside the closet, and you're already
vicious, and thinking about sex!" exclaimed Brett, leading the three adults
to chuckle as CJ blushed.

"You guys aren't bad, Papa. Hell, for being old, you're all in pretty good
shape..."

"Asshole!" erupted from his two dads simultaneously, followed by laughter
from the four.

They all picked that time to decide what they wanted to eat, as
Mr. Just-Out-Of-The-Closet thought about his fathers, and their circle of
friends he had met before. The Elite Eight Chip had referred to were four
gay couples who seemed inseparable. Not a week went by they didn't interact
with each other in some way. The fact they were all smart, handsome, and in
good shape, meant when together out in public, they caused the heads of men
and women to constantly turn for a second look.

Add the real cool nicknames they all had, and it was like a gay boy's wet
dream. Would they call him Emperor Jr.? After all, he was named Cesar, like
his father was. He'd need to wear a jockstrap underneath his boards during
their boating excursion. Getting a boner around these men would be so not
cool; he would die of embarrassment.

Lunch was fun, and the food was good. Cesar explained his son's medical
records would be available no later than the following week, and then he
wanted the teen to have a complete and exhaustive physical. He and Brett
were now entirely responsible for CJ's well-being, and the exam was a way
of establishing reference markers, in case of any future issues.

Doc had to get back to his office, so the four men finished their meal and
headed out the door without much lingering over coffee. The Georgetown
contingent retraced their steps, riding the Metro back to the station and
then walking across the Potomac. In front of their place, Brett asked CJ to
follow him over to Yates Field House at GU for a little bit. Cesar headed
to Safeway on Wisconsin Avenue, to pick up some groceries.

The teen once again was stunned at the money being spent on him; the gym
membership at the University was another grand for a year. He never lacked
the basics while living with his mom and stepfather, but this new lifestyle
of the rich and famous was definitely going to be a change he'd have to get
used to.

Exhausted after all the running around, they took a long nap once back
home. The young man was realizing walking and public transportation, would
be the primary ways of getting around in this town. That would be a change
from the heavy reliance placed on automobiles in South Florida--his inner
tree-hugger beamed.

That night they walked to Sea Catch restaurant for a great meal of hickory
cured salmon as appetizers and grilled yellowfin tuna with fresh vegetables
as the main dish. After dinner, they went to see Star Trek: Into Darkness;
Brett was a diehard Trekkie. He insisted on seeing any new movie in the
series on opening night.

As they climbed the stairs back at home, CJ said good night, kissing his
dads when they reached the second floor.

"Live long and prosper, young Abell¢," said Brett, as he and Cesar
headed up to their bedroom on the next floor.

"You're mixing up your movies, Papa Brett," replied CJ giggling.

x x x

On the way to work early Thursday morning, Brett had smiled, as he twitched
on the seat of his Road Glide. His tingling was a great reminder of the hot
love making he and Cesar had enjoyed that morning?no wasting of morning
wood at their home. They had both needed something to calm the jitters
brought on by CJ's impending arrival, and by the cryptic message left by
the boy's mother.  The uncut member between Cesar's legs was maybe not as
big as the ones seen on porn actors, but it was plenty big enough. Whenever
the marine played bottom boy, he'd feel the sting for the next few
hours. The Latin man knew how to use his tool, which always left Brett
extremely satisfied. The couple expressed their passion for each other in a
sexual way regularly. Their lovemaking was frequent and often spirited.

Tonight the roles were reversed. It was the Cuban-American's turn to spread
his legs and let his partner inside. The older man's ass was still
sensitive, long after they had disengaged, still somewhat stretched. He had
been entered at a slow pace, both lying on their side. A position they
enjoyed, since it allowed the passive one to be enveloped in the arms of
his lover. The feeling of a hairy chest against their back was one they
both enjoyed. The towel the lovers had laid down over their sheets, so that
neither would have to sleep on the usual wet spot, soaked up the drips from
both their softening cmembers as Cesar laid his head on Brett's chest,
ready to succumb to sleep.

"Not a bad day, Jarhead. Not a bad day at all. And what we just did was the
cherry on top."

"Uhhh, Cesar? I hate to disappoint you, babe? I may have been on top but I
lost my cherry a hell of a long time ago." Brett whispered in a pretty
serious tone.

"Duh! You're such a blonde sometimes. But you're my blonde and I will
always love you."

"Thanks, Whitney, I love you too."

Copyright 2015 CJ Abello
Edited by: Mann Ramblings

Would love to hear what you think: cjabello1997@gmail.com

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