Copyright © 2003

By Lee Mariner

The author's copyright ©, and all provisions of the original disclaimer remain in force.  All Rights are Reserved.

This is a gay fantasy containing homosexual acts.  If you are not of legal age in your locality to be reading this story or should you not approve of such material, please leave.

My friend, Dean, has edited this work.  His invaluable assistance is greatly appreciated.

All of my stories can be found in the Nifty Archives listing of Prolific Author's by using:


Readers wishing to be notified of future episodes to this, and other stories, may contact me at:


Chapter #31

Derek's 'oh shit' outburst surprised me, and I turned my head asking, "What's wrong?"

"Morgan," he answered.  "Those baggy work overalls really do hide just how gorgeous he is, don't they? If he were gay, every queen in town would be after him"

"Geez, D, it never really occurred to me; but you are right," I said, turning back and looking more appreciatively at Morgan who was approaching us at a walk  the closer he got to the truck instead of running as he was at first.

Derek was right, Morgan was a magnificently proportioned nineteen year old.  During his years of wrestling and weight lifting while we were in high school, he had gradually developed muscles that were hard and well defined.  His shoulders and chest were broad, tapering to a small waist. His powerful thighs and calves bulged with smoothly tapered muscles, and his biceps and forearms were as equally proportioned as his legs.   Our wrestling coach had stressed muscle tone, and the exercises he had us do resulted in smooth tapered muscles for an overall ability to apply pressure equally rather than in specific areas of an opponents body.  Morgan and I had wrestled each other several times in practice, and I knew the power that he could exert when he flexed his arm and leg muscles.  I had gotten excited several times when we wrestled; and, even though I had already enjoyed a few encounters with other gay boys, it never occurred to me to make any advances to Morgan. That was probably because he worked for my father, and I was not openly gay to him or my family until after I had met Derek. 

"Does he always dress like that?" Derek asked, interrupting my thoughts.

"I don't know, D," I answered, quickly suppressing the salacious thoughts that suddenly popped into my head.   "Other than being in school together, we never hung out with each other; and it has been over a year since we wrestled in school,  He had a great build when we were in school, but I've only seen him wearing overalls since then, and it sure looks like he has improved."

"Well..." he said, with a twinkle in his eyes.  "I'm glad of that, or he might be sitting here instead of me."

"Oh, be serious, D." I exclaimed, a little irritated. "I don't think Morgan knows what being gay is, and I'm not even sure that he has a girl friend."

"Are you sure about that?" he asked teasingly, nodding his head in Morgan's direction. "He is sporting a pretty big bulge in his crotch."

"Oh shit," I exclaimed softly mimicking Derek's initial surprised comment when I saw the bulge in Morgan's crotch.

Moving a little closer, Derek whispered, "That, Lover, is what is called a full package from head to toe with plenty in-between."

"Yeah, he is a hell of a lot different from what I remember from when we were in school; but he has nothing on you,"  I said, quickly turning to look at Derek.

"You are not only logical, Larry, but diplomatic as well," he responded, chuckling under his breath, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

"It's true," I replied just as Morgan reached the truck's window, and leaned over to look inside.

"What's true, Larry?" he asked, holding an envelope tightly clinched in his hand.

"Nothing, Morgan.  What's that in your hand?"  I asked.

"Oh this," he answered looking at the envelope and then at me.   "Your Dad told me to give it to you in case you needed it at the store."

"Need what?" I mused in general as I took the envelope from Morgan, and opening it saw it was a letter of authorization to the manager of Hofmeyer's allowing me to use his account.

"That's my Dad, D," I said, looking at him, and handing him the letter.  "He always thinks of everything."

Glancing at the letter, he said, "He is as logical as you are, and I'm sure that is where you get it."

"Probably, but the manager at Hofmeyer's knows me,"  I replied as I turned my head almost kissing Morgan;  who, after sticking his head through the window, had not said a word since relinquishing the envelope.

"Whoops," I exclaimed in surprise. "I like you Morgan but, not quite that much. Are you ready to leave?"

"Yeah, I'm ready," he said, averting his face and blushing as he pulled back through the window and started to get in the back of the truck.

I was just about to tell him to get in the cab with us when Derek said, "In the front, Morgan, not in the back, that's against the law. You can sit between us."

"Are you sure," he said glancing at me.  "There ain't much room in there for the three of us."

"I think we will manage," Derek said, grinning and winking at me, his eyes twinkling impishly as he opened the door, and got out so Morgan could slide in.


"Damn, there is just enough room," I said as I started the truck. "It's a good thing the gear shift is on the column, and not on the floor or you would be in trouble, Morgan."

"I can still get in the back if you want me to, Larry," he replied with an air of innocence about what my comment had meant.

"You don't have to do that, and it's against the law to ride in an open truck bed," I said.

"Okay," he replied, tightening his shoulder muscles in an unsuccessful attempt to make them smaller.

The three of us were sitting thigh to thigh, and Morgan had his hands stuck between his legs partially covering the obviously large bulge.  Derek leaned his head back as I put the truck in gear; and, placing his arm across the back of the seat behind Morgan's shoulders, he glanced at me and winked again.  I could see he was enjoying himself, and I couldn't help wondering what Morgan was thinking about Derek's well muscled arm resting against the hard muscles of his shoulders. As if he was reading my thoughts he said,  "It's kind of tight, Larry, but I think Derek and I can squeeze closer so you can drive."

"That's okay, Morgan, I can make out," I said, waving my arm out the window at Dad who had come outside as we drove off the lot into the street.

We sat quietly until we reached the first traffic light.   Braking to stop, I felt  Derek's fingers scratching the back of my right shoulder.  Morgan was looking straight forward; and, glancing at Derek, I stuck the tip of my tongue out between my lips; and he wrinkled his nose like a bunny rabbit does, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Christ," I thought as I dropped the truck into gear and wriggled my shoulder in response to his scratching, hoping Morgan wouldn't notice.  "He's got more of a devil in him than I realized."

"Morgan," Derek said as we started moving again.  "Do you have an idea of what type of suit it is that you might want?"

"No, not really, I haven't, Derek," Morgan answered glancing at Derek and thinking for a minute before continuing.  "I ain't never bought a suit before."

"You've never had a suit?" Derek replied with a tone of astonishment in his voice, quickly looking over at me as he tooled his way through traffic. .

"Not really, except when I was a little boy,"  he said, looking quickly at me before continuing. "I did have one when my grandpa died, and we went to his funeral. That was a long time ago, and I grew out of it."

"Yes, Morgan, I would say that you have grown quite a bit since then,"  I said, grinning impishly at Derek, and  thinking back to when Morgan and I had been younger.

"Yeah, I guess I have some," he said, grinning into the mirror at me with a glint of pride in his eyes.

We sat quietly for a few minutes while I tooled the truck through the increasingly heavy traffic of downtown.  I was raking my memory trying to recall whether I had ever seen Morgan in a suit, and I remembered that I hadn't seen him at the Junior/Senior Prom of my senior year.

"Morgan, I don't mean to embarrass you; but is not having a suit the reason you didn't come to the Junior/Senior dance at school?" I asked.

"You ain't embarrassing me, Larry; we been friends ever since we were little.  I ain't ashamed that my daddy was sick back then, and he couldn't afford to buy me a suit.  I know he would have if he could, and I'd have one to wear now," he answered softly, pushing his hands deeper between his legs and breathing in deeply, exhaling as he continued.  "I'd still be going to graduation next week even if I didn't have a suit, but I'll have one now.   I really appreciate Mr. Marks buying one for me and also you guys helping me pick it out," he exclaimed proudly.

"Geez, Morgan, I wish you had said something; you could have worn one of mine or my brother Paul's," I said glancing over at Derek who was listening, deep in thought, as we talked . "Mom still has some of Paul's old suits and clothes packed away in the attic, and I know she would have let you use one of them or even given it to you."

"I guess maybe I didn't think about it, Larry; but I don't know that I would have been at the dance since I didn't have a girl friend to take with me, and I don't know how to dance or do nothing like that," he said after thinking for a moment.

"Maybe not, but it still would have been nice to have you there," I said as we drove onto the parking lot surrounding Hofmeyer's.


Hofmeyer's was a large store specializing in the latest men's clothing and accessories.  It was a sprawling one story brownstone building with large plate glass windows displaying various mannequins dressed in clothing ranging from sports wear and tropical attire to business suits, jackets, and tuxedos with a wide selection of shirts, ties, shoes, sweaters and slacks tastefully displayed adjacent to matching ensembles. 

Two thick gray granite steps led up to the large ornate brass-fitted double oak doors that were the main entrance facing Monticello Ave. with smaller entrances at either end of the building.   The merchandise on the main floor was the most expensive, beautifully displayed in life like settings on fantastically life-like mannequins, and of the best quality.  There were steps located at the rear of the main floor that lead down to a basement store that featured clothing that was of good quality but lower in price. 

Dad, Paul and I had bought our clothing from Hofmeyer's for as long as I could remember.  Dad had introduced me to Mr. Ezekiel Hofmeyer, the owner, once when he had taken Paul and me to the store; but, as a rule, Mr. Hofmeyer  was not on the main floor.  When we entered, a tall dark headed, nice looking, and well dressed young man approached us. 

His eyes were a dark almost black brown; and, smiling gently, he asked in a deep dulcet voice, "May I help you or your friends, Mr. Marks."

"Yes...yes, you may but...,but do I know you?" I asked, stammering from being caught off guard at being addressed by name.

"Not socially, unfortunately," he answered, smiling broadly, his perfectly even teeth flashing brilliantly.  "My name is Micah; and I assisted my father, Mr. Hofmeyer, when he was helping your father select suits for you and your brother.  That was a few years ago, but I distinctly remember you since you wanted something a little less staid than what your father was selecting and insisting that you would wear."

"That was you?" I exclaimed, suddenly recalling the time he spoke of.  "You have grown some since we were here."

"That was I," he answered smoothly.  "Although, I cannot blame you for not remembering,  We both have grown some since then, and we seem to have gotten a little heavier, but fortunately in the right places," he said smoothly, his dark eyes twinkling.   "How are your father and brother?"

"Dad is doing fine, but Paul died in a swimming accident a few years ago."

"I am sorry to hear that," he said in a sincere tone.  "I didn't know."

"We miss him; but let me introduce my friends, Derek Kingsley and Morgan Padgett," I said turning to Derek and Morgan who had stood behind me as we spoke.

"It's nice meeting you both," Micah said as they shook hands, lingering a little longer as he looked at Morgan who was a little flustered by the unaccustomed attention.

"And, now that the formalities are over, what can I help you with?" he asked slowly turning his attention away from Morgan and back to us.

"We need a suit for Morgan, Micah," I replied.  "He works for my dad, and Dad's buying him a suit as his graduation present."

"Graduation?" Micah said, lifting one eye brow quizzically and looking at Morgan.

"High school," Morgan replied quickly, glancing at Derek and me and unconsciously expanding his already impressive chest as he said with pride, "I graduate next week."

"I believe we have something that you might like," he said smoothly, eyeing Morgan appreciatively and asking, "What size do you wear, about a forty-four or forty-six in a regular length, I should think?"

"Size, I don't know," Morgan said hesitatingly, looking at me almost panic stricken.

"Don't worry, Morgan," I said soothingly.  "Micah will take your measurements, and that way he will know what your size is."

"If you will come with me, Morgan, we will take care of that in one of our dressing rooms," Micah interjected casually, motioning for us to follow as he indicated the direction to the dressing rooms.


Micah picked up a tailors' measuring tape and a small note book from a podium style desk before opening one of the dressing room doors.  Morgan looked at me for a moment before entering the room; and, seeing how nervous he was, I gave him a thumbs up signal by way of assurance, hoping it would help relieve some of the anxiety I could see in his eyes.

"He never has been in a men's clothing shop, has he?" Derek asked.

"Not that I know of, D," I answered.  "If you knew the environment that he lives in, you would understand why he feels totally out of his element," I said as I sat in one of the leather padded chairs that the store provided for its customers.

"Is it really that bad?" he asked as he sat down next to me.

"Well...," I said, breathing in deeply and gathering my thoughts before answering. "Bad is a misnomer, D.  His home is on Clairmont St. over on the South side with an alcoholic mother and father, and it is known that his older sister uses drugs and turns tricks to pay for her habit.  He lost a brother because of a miscarriage when his mother fell down a flight of stairs; she was drunk.  His father is supposed to have a bad back because of a wound from when he served in the army during the Korean war.  He receives a disability check from the government, and that money along with welfare is their only income.  Most of that is spent on booze after they pay the rent on the pitiful house they live in, but I believe that Morgan gives some of what he earns at the station to his parents.   A couple of times, Morgan has asked Dad for money to pay the utilities and  asked that Dad take it out of his next pay check, but Dad knows the circumstances that Morgan lives in and lets him pay it back a little at a time.   Yeah, D, I would say it is bad, but you will never hear Morgan complain."

"Jesus, Larry," he said after a few minutes of silence.  "We hear about poor indigent people and the way they have to live, but we never realize how well off we are until we meet some one who lives in those circumstances."

"You are right, we don't; and, while he would never admit it, I know that is the reason that Dad is paying for Morgan's suit,"  I said softly, looking up and standing as Micah came out of the dressing room, closing the door behind him.

"That didn't take as long as I thought it would," I said as Micah approached. 

"No, not after he disrobed," Micah replied, grinning.  "Most young men aren't very shy when it comes to displaying their physiques, and I certainly would not be if I possessed one as well developed as Morgan's, but he was a little shy at first."

"He was the same way in school," I offered.

"It was probably because of my being a stranger.  Now the poor boy is half naked in the dressing room; so, if you will give me a moment to get him a robe, we can discuss our options," Micah said as he moved away.
"Half naked, Larry?" Derek said softly, edging a little closer and chuckling almost evilly. "Do you think he measured all of Morgan or at least tried?"

"D!" I exclaimed mildly feigning shock at his suggestion. "You are a devil."

Oh, please, Larry,"  he whispered, glancing around to see if anyone was within ear shot. "Unless my 'gaydar' is broken, which I doubt, our young Micah Hofmeyer is as gay as we are."

"Do you really think he is?"  I asked quietly, reluctant to admit that I had gotten the same impression.

"In a heart beat, Lover," he replied.  "He practically devoured Morgan with his eyes the moment he saw him, and I've never heard a straight person comment so lavishly on the attributes of another man's physique as he did on Morgan's."

"D," I said softly, glancing at the dressing room door.  "You may be right about Micah, but I can not imagine Morgan succumbing to the advances of another man for the simple reason that I don't believe he has any idea of what gay sex is."

"That you may be right about, and you may not; but unless I'm wrong, which I doubt, I'll bet Micah is trying to find out all he can about him," Derek said with a note of finality in his voice. 

I hated to admit that our thoughts had run along the same lines, and that was one of the things that I loved about him. Under the right circumstances, he spoke his mind when he thought he was right, and some of Micah's subtle innuendo's left little doubt of his interest in Morgan.  Even I could see it, but I had never thought of Morgan in that context before.


Just as I was about to answer Derek, the door of the dressing room opened, and Micah followed by Morgan wearing a dark blue calf length damask robe came toward us.  The robe hung loosely from his shoulders and was tied at the waist with a matching belt.  He still had a puppy dog air of innocence, but he hadn't pulled the robe tightly around him, and the way the robe fell open across his chest displayed the deep cleft between his thick breast muscles and a velvety expanse of smooth golden skin.

I felt Derek nudge me, nodding in Morgan's direction without speaking.  His unspoken comment was obvious.  Dressed as he was with his blond hair contrasting with the blue of the robe and the display of his broad muscled chest and shoulders, he was an Adonis that most gay men would appreciate knowing better; but I was still having a hard time grasping the fact that he may not be as innocent as I had always thought he was.

"We may have a slight problem, Larry," Micah said, glancing at his notebook as they drew closer.   "Morgan's chest measures forty-four relaxed, slightly over forty-six expanded; and his shoulders are rather wide.  He has a thirty-two inch waist, a thirty-one inch inseam, and thirty inch arm length.  These are extremely impressive measurements for a young man his age, but therein also lies the problem."

"What problem?" Derek asked, beating me to the punch.  "His measurements are almost the same as mine, and I wear a forty-four regular. 

 Micah smiled softly, and glancing at me, his dark eyes shining, he said, "I would have guessed that from looking at you, and I can see from the way you are dressed that you are well built; but I don't think you have the bulk that Morgan has."

"Okay," Derek said sheepishly.  "Morgan is a big boy, and the problem is that you will have to make alterations."

"I ain't no boy, Derek," Morgan interjected objecting to Derek's comment about his stature before anything else could be said.

"He's got you there, D," I said grinning, and looking at Morgan who was standing behind Micah patiently listening as we casually discussed his physical attributes as if he were not even present.

"I'm sorry, Morgan," Derek responded, blushing at having been chastised.  "I didn't mean it that way."

"That's okay, Derek," Morgan replied grinning broadly, his dark gray eyes twinkling with amusement.

"No, I wouldn't say Morgan is a boy, not with his measurements; and I would recommend a forty-six regular to allow for the alterations that I am sure will have to be made if we are to fit him properly," Micah said, breaking the sudden silence following Morgan's simple reply.

"Will you be able to have it by next Wednesday?" I asked guardedly.

"I don't see why not, and since it is for his graduation, I'll ask Mr. Stein our Senior Tailor to make a special effort," Micah answered, smiling broadly.


Micah recommended several suits in various styles, and Morgan dutifully tried each one on turning and twisting as the three of us made suggestions.  There was a Navy Shadow stripe double-breasted that I thought looked particularly good on him, but both Micah and Derek objected.

"The double-breasted is one of my favorites, Larry," Micah said. "But, with the breadth of his shoulders, and the narrowness of his waist, Morgan looks a little like he is wearing a straight jacket."

"But," I started to say in objection when Derek spoke in support of Micah's reasons. "I agree with Micah, Larry, that he does look constricted, and I like the single-breasted, three-button Mason suit in the navy color better.  It looks more natural, and he would be able to wear it with other slacks that would match better than he could with a double-breasted."

"That's my reasoning," Micah said quickly, glancing at Derek and smiling appreciatively.

"What do you think, Morgan?" I asked. "You will be wearing the suit, not us."

"Welllll...,Larry," he started hesitantly, looking at his reflection in the full length mirror, and making eye contact with us behind him,   "I don't know very much about suits; but I kinda like the other one, the one with one row of buttons."

"Then the Mason is the one you will get," I said submitting as gracefully as I could to being out voted.

"I think you will see that it is a much better fit after we do the alterations, Larry," Micah said soothingly.  "Bachrach is our best line, and Mr. Stein is a whiz at altering a suit so that it appears to have been tailor-made for its owner."

"I bow to your expertise, Micah," I said.  "I am not a tailor."

"There are some things that you may be more expert in than a tailor is,"  Micah said in a subdued but, suggestive tone.

>From the smile on Derek's face and the twinkle in his eyes as he looked at me, I knew he had been right about Micah's being gay and from the obvious but subtle inference in Micah's comments, we both understood his meaning.

Breathing in deeply, I said, "you may be right about that."

"I thought that perhaps I was," he replied continuing the game of words and glancing at Morgan who was standing close by with a blank look on his face listening intently as we spoke.

"What about shirts and accessories?" Derek asked glancing at me questioningly, cutting the momentary silence that always followed a mutual recognition of unspoken facts.

For the first time, I noticed Micah breathe in deeply as he again glanced at Morgan, saying, "Unless you have a preference as to the accessories Morgan, Derek and Larry could make the selections while you and I visit with Mr. Stein for your fitting."

"I guess that would be okay; I'm not too good at making things match up; but Mr. Marks didn't say anything about accessories or whatever it is you call the stuff you are talking about," Morgan answered, grinning sheepishly as he admitted his lack of being a Beau Brummel of fashion.

"Damn, D, he's right," I exclaimed softly.  "All, Dad said was to help him pick out a suit."

"And, we've done that," Derek said.  "The rest we will talk about while Micah takes Morgan to be fitted."

"Good, it will speed things along," Micah said quickly.  "We shouldn't be too long, but you should have plenty of time before we return to browse through the shirts and whatever other accessories you think will be needed.  I believe you will find an excellent selection of shirts, shoes, belts and whatever else you might think is appropriate just to the left of the main entrance. You will need a sixteen collar, and don't forget his arm length is thirty-inches, so I would recommend a thirty-two length for either a french or button style cuff."

"D," I said as soon as they were out of ear shot.  "What do you mean by 'we will talk about'?

"Larry," Derek said softly.  "Don't you remember, I told you at the bank that there were a few things that I wanted to get since we were coming here?"

"Yes, I remember that; but you didn't say what things," I replied.

"It is very simple, Larry.  When Dad asked us to bring Morgan here to help him select a new suit, I sort of figured that maybe he didn't think about other things that Morgan might need,"  he said breathing in deeply before continuing. "The suit will be Dad's gift for Morgan's graduation, and ours will be the accessories, and after hearing about how he lives, you know as well as I do that he won't have what he needs to look like he should."

"But...but, I can't aff...," I started to say when Derek put his finger on my lips and looked at me, his deep blue eyes glowing with compassion as he said softly,  "Don't say it, Larry, I don't want to hear it now or ever again.  I've told you that what is mine is yours, ours, both of ours together, and if you love me as much as I love you, that ends it."

"If we were alone, I'd show you how much I love you," I whispered softly, my arms aching to hold him close.

"Unfortunately we aren't, but hold the thought until we get home," he said, whispering softly.

"Oh, I will," I said, breathing in deeply, attempting to suppress the sudden swelling of my cock.

Glancing down at my crotch and looking at me with a twinkle in his eyes, he adjusted the impressive bulge in his crotch and growled sexily, "I won't let you forget it either."

It was not difficult to see the area of the store that Micah had directed us to; and, as we were walking, Derek said, "We did settle one thing, Larry."

"Wha..., oh yeah," I snickered.  "You mean Micah.  Didn't you like the sly way he managed to confirm his and our suspicions?"

"Yes, but, you gave him a perfect opening when you said that stuff about bowing to his expertise, and not being a tailor.  He jumped right on that," Derek answered, laughing softly as we walked.

"It was unintentional, but it worked," I said.  "I am a little concerned about Morgan though."

"I wouldn't worry about that, Larry.  I don't think Morgan is as naive as you let on he might be. He is a big boy, good looking, built like a brick shit house. and I am sure that you can relate to just how horny a ninteen-year old can get."

"You should," I said as we reached the shirt and accessories section of the store.


"Damn, D," I exclaimed.  "We'll be until next week trying to find what Morgan might like in all of this."

"Not really, Larry, he will need at least one white shirt, maybe a stripe but not a wide stripe, and something in a neutral matching pastel or light color," Derek said, gazing over the tables stacked with a mind boggling array of shirts.

"Well," I said, breathing in deeply, and exhaling in a rush.  "It is a good thing we chose the Navy blue, almost anything can match up with the suit color and style so long as it does not clash.

Derek did most of the selecting; and, while we had discussions over a few shirts, it was not long before we had selected a Willow Stripe and a White-on-White both with French cuffs.  The ties were a different matter since I was not fond of wearing them, but he picked out several in a variety of colors and designs that would match Morgan's suit. 

It was the first time we had done any shopping together; and we both were having fun, whispering and giggling like school boys as we made the selections we thought would be the best.  Just as we had settled on a black double-inlay belt there was a soft cough from behind us, and turning we saw Micah and Morgan standing only inches away, both of them grinning like Cheshire cats.

"Most of my customers do not seem to enjoy themselves as much as you two are,"  Micah said quietly.

"If you can't have fun, why do it; and anyhow I like picking out clothes," Derek said.  Looking at me impishly he said, "Besides, I've never had the chance to pick out things for someone like Morgan."

"I agree, Derek," Micah said, grinning slyly as he glanced at Morgan whom I knew did not have a clue as to what we were implying. 

"Did you get the fitting finished, Micah?" I asked breaking into the sparring repartee between the two of them.

"Yes, and I don't think Morgan is any the worse for wear," Micah answered.  "Mr. Stein would like to do a final fitting on Monday if that is all right."

That won't be a problem," I answered.  "Right now we have to pick out shoes, and we don't know what size."

"I wear a size ten-double E width, Larry," Morgan said a little sheepishly. "But you don't have to buy me any shoes; I got some at home."

"Nonsense," Derek interjected.  "We found a pair of black Penny loafers that would go great with your new suit, and there is no sense in buying everything new if you are going to spoil it by wearing old shoes."

Morgan continued to protest; but, after the loafers were slipped on his feet, we could see that he liked them; and, although he seemed a little embarrassed, his eyes lit up as he thanked us.

"I guess that covers everything, except I don't see any cuff links," Micah said as he looked over the pile of shirts, ties, belts and the shoes.  "No matter, they will be my gift to the new graduate whom I hope will return often, and we will get to know much better."

Looking quickly at Derek, I could see that he had caught the double meaning that Micah had emphasized, but the big surprise was when Morgan said, "I might be able to do that every now and then but not very often."

"Any time that you are in, Morgan, I'll be more than happy to take care of anything you might need," Micah said noticeably breathing in deeply before saying,  "Now that we are finished with the easy part; we can take care of the hard part."

"Oh, my, God, he's practically telling Morgan he is interested in him," I thought to myself, glancing at Derek and seeing the expression on his face which indicated that he was thinking the same thing that I was. 

"Dad told me to put the suit on his account, Micah; and he gave me a letter to confirm it," I said quickly.

"That won't be necessary, Larry, as your father is quite well known here and I recognized you when you came in."

"It is nice to be known, Larry, isn't it?" Derek said. "I would like to pay for the other things, Micah, if my check is acceptable.  It's drawn on the Heritage Bank, and you may call Mr. Masters if you would care to verify it."

We looked inquisitively at each other while Micah seemed to be pondering what Derek had said.  After a few seconds of silence, Derek asked, "Is something wrong?"

"Oh, no!" Micah answered quickly.  "I was trying to gather my thoughts before answering your question. Are you by any chance related to Mr. Morrison Kingsley of Worthington & Kingsley Investments?"

"He is my father," Derek answered, looking at me, and winking as he extracted a blank check from the envelope that Ellen had given him.

"Your father...!" Micah exclaimed softly.  "That's why I remember the name; your father is a frequent customer of ours. I've been trying to recall where I knew the name Kingsley from since Larry introduced you and Morgan; but, in all of the excitement of meeting the two of you, it slipped my mind until you mentioned the bank and Mr. Masters,"  he said as he gathered the merchandise.  He motioned for a nearby clerk, giving him instructions as to how it was to be charged before speaking to us again.  "Mr. Masters is an old friend of my father. Our company has its accounts with the Heritage Bank; and, on some occasion or the other, I believe Mr. Masters introduced your father to mine,"

"It was probably at some function the bank had with its stockholders," Derek said casually.  "I wouldn't really know though as I wasn't privy to my father's business."

"It may have been, and we have something in common," Micah said, extending the sales receipts that the clerk had returned for our signatures as he continued.  "I'm not very much involved in my father's financial dealings; but, from some of the comments that I have heard when your father has been in, I'm sure Dad has some of his investments with the firm."

"I don't doubt it, Micah.  My father isn't the type to miss adding a business client when the opportunity presents itself,"  Derek said as he handed him his check.

"That is the way of business, Derek," Micah said as he took Derek's check, and my signed receipt.

"I am learning that, but this hasn't been business; it has been fun.  I have really enjoyed meeting you," Derek said cheerfully.

"It has been my pleasure to assist you, and I'm glad Larry brought you and Morgan in.  It has been a real pleasure meeting you, and I can only hope we will meet again...soon,"  Micah said as we shook hands.

"I'm sure we will, Micah," I said as we gathered our merchandise-laden shopping bags.

"I hope so, and don't let Morgan forget his appointment on Monday," Micah said as he walked with us to the exit.

"We won't forget the appointment, Micah, but right now we better get him to lunch before he thinks we have forgotten that he is still a growing boy," I replied glancing mischievously at Derek and winking as we got into the truck.