Warning: The following story contains graphic descriptions of sex between consenting adult males. If you are underage or do not wish to read such materials, or if reading this sort of material is illegal in your jurisdiction, then read no further. Any reference to actual persons, living or dead, is only to enhance the fictional nature of the story and does not suggest a particular sexual orientation.
A special acknowledgement to David (aka ManHrd2Fnd) from the Lakeview area of Chicago for providing diligent proofing and editing of the story, and to Carey for being a patient teacher. Thank you to Ben in Florida for providing medical technical advice in this part.
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Part 13, THE GOOD GUYS WIN
We arrived at the austere, black, federal office tower in Margie's Escalade at 1:25 p.m., driven by her personal assistant. Walking into the lobby, I spotted Joe Jenrette by the elevator bank. I had asked him earlier to meet us for client support. As we all greeted each other briefly before getting in an elevator, I noticed Sammy perk up with the added company.
I was flabbergasted at the activity in and out of the large meeting room when the elevator doors opened on the fourth floor. Every local television station had cameras and reporters staged for the event. NBC and Fox had their weekday anchors covering the conference. 'Obviously they're going to double as reporters for the national cable networks,' I concluded. In addition to CNN, there were a couple of camera setups for WGN. They would be feeding the story to Tribune-owned stations, including New York and L.A.
In a low tone, I said, "George, unless you want to be part of the media circus, I suggest that you and Sammy sit with Joe in the back of the room."
"Good idea, Jerry."
Nodding in the direction of some chairs off to the side, I continued, "Joe, take the guys over there. If any of the press spot George, you can run interference for him." He agreed and led the way for George and Sammy. Turning to Margie, I asked, "I don't know many of the reporters. Do you recognize any?" Looking around, I counted twenty or so reporters and photographers from the print media.
"I see Lazard from the Sun-Times and Burnett from the Tribune. So we know the Business sections are represented. I'll go over and talk with the guys."
"Be vague about your presence, Margie. Tell them that there will be in depth interviews afterwards if they are interested. But don't identify us yet."
"I know Terry Savage over there," added Bill. "Between her syndicated column and NBC5 commentary, she can be helpful. Why don't we find Agent Engelhart and get briefed? I'd like to personally speak with Terry afterwards."
"I see him in the corridor near the front of the room." We immediately walked over to the staging area. Engelhart was standing with the Chicago Police Commissioner and another agent who I had seen before.
"Jerry, Bill, thanks for coming early. You know Commissioner Wilson?"
"Commissioner, good to see you again." We occasionally crossed paths at social events. "This is Bill Saunders from American Foundry."
'Media circus, indeed,' I observed. 'They smell blood in the water.' Dad looked very casual in his golf shirt and slacks. With the addition of his glasses that almost were never worn, we blended in with the crowd.
"Joe, I didn't realize that the R.I.C.O. actions would create such a big press reaction?" Dad mentioned.
Addressing both of us, he answered, "This is Chicago. Crime sells newspapers and pumps up ratings. Add the FBI racketeering investigation and a murder threat into the mix, and this is one helluva story. And, because of your company's prominence nationally, the New York press will be nosing around."
"I'm pleased at the way Martin is handling this, Joe. We're lucky to be in such capable hands," the senior McDonald said. "Son, you're getting a great work experience."
"It sure beats delivering mail," I replied with a smile.
"Mr. McDonald, how about the three of us grabbing an early dinner after this is over? I figure that we're not going to get out of here for a couple of hours."
"Dad, that would be fun. With Mom still up at the lake, we're batching it."
"I'm thinking someplace casual like Shaw's Crab House?" Joe continued.
"Great, but I'm buying. And the car service can pick me up for the ride back to Evanston. You two should stay downtown and have a little fun," Dad said, with a knowing smile.
There was activity on the stage and podium. I saw the FBI agent...Engelhart was his name...arrive. A younger agent, Jerry, Bill, and an older gentleman who I recognized as the police commissioner followed him. There was a flash bombardment from the photographers recording the initial moments. As the crowd hushed and the TV lights blazed towards the stage, Engelhart introduced himself and the other men to the assembled press. I leaned forward to hear the announcement.
"Today, the F.B.I. in cooperation with the Chicago Police Department, have concluded an R.I.C.O. racketeering investigation concerning the systematic misappropriation of funds from American Foundry over the past two years. As of 9:00 a.m., we have arrested four people alleged to be responsible for this crime. One of the four is additionally being held for the threats of murder and/or bodily harm to Mr. Jerry Franklin and assault with a deadly weapon resulting in a shoulder wound to Mr. Bill Saunders. Mr. Franklin of Martin Consulting and Mr. Saunders of American Foundry will be available for questions at the conclusion of this conference."
For the next 10 minutes, Engelhart read through the charges and the seizure of property and bank accounts. Then the Police Commissioner commented on Atkins' threat and attempt on Jerry's life. Bill's involvement was mentioned in detail, along with the wound from the gunfire.
Joe turned to me and said, "Here it comes." Engelhart opened to floor to Q and A. I noticed that Engelhart was very skilled in working the TV reporters, rotating among them to facilitate their sound bites. As planned, Jerry took the lead in describing Martin's role in working with the company. I could almost lip sync the answers from this morning's meeting. Looking at Dad, I knew he was pleased at the performance. Joe and I looked at each other and smiled with assurance. The questioning continued.
"Mr. Saunders, may I ask how you happened to be at Mr. Franklin's residence?"
"The project that Mr. Franklin and I are working on doesn't have banker's hours. We have been putting in long hours after the irregularities were discovered. This weekend was going to be no different. I'm happy that I arrived on the scene when I did."
"Jerry, what caught your attention that something was wrong in their accounting department?
"Actually, it was an initial gut reaction that the Controller was hiding something. As a consultant, you must make calculated judgments about people and situations everyday. I alerted our New York auditing team to look into my suspicions. With Mr. Saunders' authorization, we accessed the accounting computers and thoroughly analyzed the payables transactions. That's when we hit pay dirt. We contacted the F.B.I. immediately."
The remainder of the conference focused on the details of the arrests and the impact on the company. I noticed Margie's people circulating with the press packets that had been collated only hours ago. As the formal meeting broke up, Jerry and Bill were separated in opposite corners and interviewed for sound bites to be included in later edited news stories.
"Son, whatever you do, take some special instruction on handling press interviews. This is something that I've never been able to do very well. Knowing how to handle the press will come in handy some day."
"Sammy, if you're interested I know of a three-day seminar that touches on all these points. Maybe we could take it together. I need the training, too," Joe added.
"Let me know when the next seminar convenes," George said. "I'll be happy to take care of the fees for both of you."
As we concluded that the seminar was necessary, the press started to break up. I noticed that it was 4:30 p.m. local. As Jerry had predicted, the news cycle was concluding in the Eastern and Central time zones. Aside from cable coverage, national network news would be broadcast live for the two time zones in one hour. The editors would be scrambling for a finished news segment from the live satellite feeds.
I didn't think Bill or I were any worse for wear from the afternoon. With the shirt covering his wound and arm sling, Bill got the sympathy vote. My role as consultant and potential victim was accepted. We both were interviewed in depth. I was emotionally wound up from the experience. All I wanted to do was get into a warm bed with my buddy.
"Bill, I think this came off well. What's your gut reaction?" I said quietly, as we slowly walked towards the McDonalds and Joe.
"Very positive. Terry asked me to do a one-on-one interview for NBC5 Monday."
"Excellent. She has a good following." We were joined by the other guys and Margie.
In her abbreviated, staccato delivery, Margie summarized the afternoon. "All the cable networks were live approximately 45 minutes. You can expect this being the lead story on all local newscasts tonight. And, barring the actual war of the worlds, this will be the headline story in the Sunday papers. Next week, all the financial commentators will want a piece of you. I'll coordinate all the interviews. Make sure that all press inquiries are sent to me." With that, she air-kissed everyone and was off.
"There goes Margie. What a human dynamo," I said.
"Dad, Joe and I are off to an early dinner. You guys want to join us?"
"Sammy, thanks for the invitation. I think Bill and I just want to decelerate with an adult beverage. We've all got a busy day ahead." My cell was vibrating. "Excuse me," I said, flipping open the cell and walking away a few feet.
"Hey, Ben. You saw it?"
~~~ "On all three cable news channels. My hat's off to you. It was a positive spin for the client. And we came off smelling like roses. Dad's already called me. He's very pleased."
"I'm glad it went so well. Mr. McDonald is very upbeat. Ben, let's touch base early Monday morning. By that point we'll be able to digest the impact of the Sunday papers."
~~~ "Sounds good. I'll call you Monday at the usual time. Good show, Franklin."
Returning to the group, we decided to separate for the weekend. I knew that Sammy and Joe would entertain themselves. Walking out of the now deserted meeting room, we all descended in the elevator to the lobby and went out to find separate cabs. "Joe, would you come into the office around seven Monday morning? We need to conference with Ben in New York," I asked, as two Yellow Cabs approached.
"I'll probably be in by 6:30 a.m."
"Great. George, I'll call you and Bill right afterwards. Is eight too early?"
"Bill, Sammy and I will be waiting for your call in my office." We waved goodbyes and got the two cabs.
Traveling north on Clark Street, I said, "Would you mind if I invited myself to stay with you tonight at your condo?"
"I'd love it. Need a change of scenery?" he said with a concerned look.
"I just need to get past this home invasion and that asshole Atkins. When we get back to Astor Street, I'll feed Mr. Charley and change into something more casual. Then we can go up to your place."
"I'll call ahead to Giovanni's Pizza. We can pick up a pie on the way."
"I'm getting hard just thinking about it."
"Jerry, save anything hard for later tonight. I'm going to hold you to the promise of being able to have sex with a man with one arm." We held each other and rubbed noses before yielding to a tender kiss in the back of the cab. The driver didn't seem to notice or care.
Arriving at Astor Street, I took care of the cat and changed into a polo and cargo shorts while Bill ordered the pizza. We departed in his Bimmer 535 and, after a detour to Giovanni's, reached his Lakeview condo around 6:30 p.m. Bill led me back to the kitchen and placed the pizza in the oven and set the temperature to "Holding."
"I feel like splurging," Bill announced, as he reached for a bottle of red.
"Wow, '97 Ridge Lytton Springs zinfandel. I'm not going to turn that down," I remarked, as he grabbed two over-sized balloon stems. After opening the bottle and pouring the wine, he suggested we go into the living room. Bill flipped on the stereo; Josh Groban was singing, "Home to Stay" when the equipment warmed up.
'When every road
has had its say
then I'll be bringing you back
Home to Stay.'
We sat down on the couch, and I snuggled into his undamaged shoulder. Looking at the lush, deep purple juice from the old vines, we both swirled and inhaled the powerful bouquet of the wine. We smiled, clinked the glasses together, and slowly took a tentative sip. "Bill, this wine is special. Like you." He turned his head as I rose for a kiss.
"After the craziness we've been through, I would have opened a bottle of Mouton Rothschild and served it on the rocks if you wanted it that way. Through all this shit yesterday and today, it solidified my love for you." We sipped again. I rolled the wine around my tongue to savor the cherry fruit and tobacco flavors of the rare Zinfandel. The wine was opening up.
'Reach out to me
call out my name
and I would bring you
back again today'
"I'm yours, Bill. Knowing you won't hurt me, I trust you. You proved that last night with my life. But also in the most personal areas. I want to invite my immediate family for dinner with us soon."
"I'd like that. It'll probably be the closest I'll get to a family." I looked at him curiously.
"Wanna talk about it?" Sounded like the shroud was moving away.
"Not much to say. Our family owns one of the larger banks in Indianapolis. My Mom died when I was ten. Dad re-married a Barbie trophy wife two years later. It was an uneasy truce through high school. When I came out to Dad the summer after high school, he told me that while he would financially support me through school, I wasn't welcomed at home. That bitch that I laughingly call a 'step mother' called me some pretty ugly things. I keep in touch with my real Mom's family, though. But, they're on the West Coast in Santa Barbara, California. Jerry, that's about it. Dad did take care of me through law school but I haven't seen him in 14 years. Any contact I have is through his lawyer."
"Get ready for the invasion of my family. Mom's side of the family practically populates the entire town of Northbrook. The O'Reillys procreate a lot."
"O'Reilly? You're a real Heinz 57 variety."
"Yeah. Kinda like kosher bacon."
"Speaking of food, why don't we attack the pizza? I'm dying to find out what you have in store for me later," he said with an inquisitive smile, as we both rose from the couch. Bill went to the dining table.
"Don't worry, nurse Jerry's going to take care of you. I know exactly what we both need." I cupped and squeezed his butt and returned to the kitchen area. I took both glasses and the wine to the dining table and retrieved the pizza, plates and some napkins. "Save your energy, buddy. I'm going to do the errands for a while."
We each ate two slices and finished the wine. While tidying up, I asked, "Shall I go out for the early editions of the Sunday newspapers or wait until morning?"
"Nothing we can do about the headlines. But there is something that you can do to me."
"I guess it's unanimous. Those in favor of a little sex win," I answered, pulling him into an embrace on his good side. "You lead the way, hot stuff." Turning off the kitchen lights, we went into the master bedroom, lighted only with wall washers illuminating the art. I stood in front of him and slowly unbuttoned the borrowed shirt. "We're going to take it slow and easy," I suggested, while slowly lifting the shirt off his damaged body. I looked at the bandage and sling. Everything was intact.
Toeing off the Topsiders, Bill said, "I am going to need a little help with the belt and pants."
"Babe, I had that already figured out." Unbuckling the belt I released the waist clasp and lowered the zipper. With both hands and thumbs, I slid down his pants and boxers, releasing a gorgeous half-hard cock from its confines, and moved my body down at the same time. After I helped him step out of his trousers, my tongue eagerly licked the tip of his hardening cock.
"Oh, nurse, I like the care. Ohhh fuck...." I was now moving his love muscle in and out of my moist mouth. Moving lower to suck on his low hanging nuts, I grasped his dick and jacked it with determination. Moving back up to a standing position, I tongued his face and ears.
"Buddy, I have some clothes to remove." He watched as I rapidly removed my shirt and cargo shorts and neatly placed the garments on a desk chair. Walking him over to the bed, I moved him into a sitting position on the edge. "You've got one good arm. You suppose you could help me out of my briefs?" I said with a wink. He moved his hand over a wet spot that covered the piss slit and massaged my meat through the cotton. With a little clumsiness, I was able to step out of the CK's. As I positioned my crotch in front of his face, Bill picked up on the not so subtle hint to suck me.
"I better take care of this before it pokes out my eye," he said with a laugh. Moistening his finger, he sought out my chute as I impaled his mouth. I felt the digit probing as he started moving on my rock-hard cock.
"Ahhh, babe..." His exploring was successful, finding my hot-wired prostate. He attacked it at all angles while devouring me orally. Pulling away, I said, "Bill, you have just passed phase one successfully. Next, I want you to scoot up on the bed and lie on your back." When he was positioned, I moved up and straddled his body at his thighs. I leaned over and kissed him once more. Grabbing the lube from the nightstand, I dribbled some to moisten his dick before covering it with a rubber. Once Bill was protected, I applied generous a coating of lube.
"Are we going to..."?
"Fuck? Yeah," I answered, while fingering and stretching my asshole. "You lie there and hold that beautiful dick of yours up." I rose up to my knees and scooted up until my pucker was lined up with his lube-slicked, hot cock. "You aim at my back door as I lower myself." Feeling him at my entryway, I pushed out and lowered my butt onto his waiting organ. He smiled as I bottomed out.
"This feels delicious, hon." I didn't include that young McDonald had loosened me up recently.
"And hot. Being inside you makes us closer, Jerry."
"It makes us one," I commented, feeling every vein of his member as it intimately docked momentarily. "Don't exert your shoulder, Bill. Let me do all the work." With that, I started working him up and down with my body, squeezing the sphincter intermittently for a little variety. Speeding up the lovemaking, I watched for any expression of pain associated with his shoulder wound. As I was humping my confirmed love, all I saw was contentment. Prolonging the climax by stopping on occasion, I started jerking myself for a finale 20 minutes later.
"Ah shit, babe...oh, Jesus...fuck...I'm cumming," he yelled. I felt the agitated cock filling the condom as I shot a strong rope of sperm over my lover's face and body. With his cock still in me, I scooped up some of my spent seed and fed it to Bill. He enthusiastically lapped it up. I fed some to myself and leaned down and traded saliva with him.
Whispering, "I love you, baby," I raised my body to ease away from his now-flaccid penis. After I removed his spent protection, I trotted to the bathroom, cleaned myself, and brought back a wet towel to I tidy up my partner. "Bill, are you going to be okay with me in bed with you? I know we can't cuddle. But I want to make sure your shoulder isn't agitated."
"My orders are to lie on my back and take the pain killer meds. But the bed is big enough for both of us. By the way, if a hand finds its way to my crotch in the night, I won't object."
I got a glass of water for the pills and returned to bed. "Let's get some rest. Tomorrow will be a big day," I whispered, as he finished a drink of water.
"G'night, Jerry. I love you."
Yawning, I replied, "Me too."
TO BE CONTINUED