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Frank & Benny

 

A Lifetime of Love

And

Adventure

 

Chapter 3

 

"The Sons of Ganymede"

 

While the newspapers that I read in the school library from around the coun­try had been full of reasons why everything was going to be alright, it was clear that the layoffs at local businesses told another story. The papers were full of advertisements with cheerful messages: "Wall Street may sell stocks, but Main Street is still buying goods." "All right, Mister—now that the headache is over, LET'S GO TO WORK." In the days following the Panic, there was even a new song which became popular—"Happy Days Are Here Again!"

 

There were many, according to Rocco, who believed that it was just a lot of gamblers and speculators who were ruined. But regardless if it were a mil­lionaire or the guy working behind the counter at the haberdashery, people began to watch their pennies. Businesses ground to a halt while waiting for the storm to pass. But even with the manufactured optimism, businesses be­gan to fail—especially real estate development—and that's what Rocco focused on. He was working with the agent who sold him the house, Archie Bum­garner, the same man who introduced him to Jon Orne.

 

With the politicians waiting optimistically for the readjustment to occur and business as usual to resume, Rocco was buying up property for cash—for pennies on the dol­lar; thousands of acres of undeveloped land and housing developments forced to fold due to an absence of buyers and the tightening of credit. He was buying land in Burbank, Glendale, and Hollywood to name but a few places. One of the properties he acquired was a large tract in Altadena north of Pasadena in the foothills of the San Gabriel Mountains. One of the best features of the heavily wooded area was that deep in the tract of land there was a large manmade lake, well stocked with fish and surrounded by forty acres of woodland. It had been devel­oped as a private fishing club for gentlemen. They had built twelve cabins along with a large clubhouse containing a kitchen, dining room, and clubroom, along with a large communal shower room and bathroom.

 

Jon Orne belonged to a secret group of men that celebrated the love between men and boys—very much like the ancient Greeks. We had been promised to be invited as guests of the Ornes to their club's next meeting, but Jon had told us it might have to be canceled. The meeting was to be held at the home of one the members, then disaster struck—the wife of the member hosting the meeting lost her job and would no longer be at work all day on Saturday.

 

So with a break in protocol, Jon took Rocco to a special meeting of the leader­ship of "The Sons of Ganymede." The men believed it was about more than sex, it was seen as an educational institution—of course with a modern twist.

 

He was surprised when admitted to the meeting room with Jon that he found his real estate agent Archie sitting with a county judge, a lawyer, the local bank manager, and the gym teacher and football coach from the high school among several others. After introductions, he proposed moving the club meeting to his own home for this week and then to his newly acquired `men's retreat' after he took possession.

 

He had bought the property as an investment, figuring that when the crisis passed he could sell it at a profit, so he of­fered the use of the lake and the surrounding three acres—which he planned to fence and secure from the access road. His only requirement was the club was to collect a small amount in dues at each meeting to be held in re­serve for repairs and improvements. The members of the board were both grateful and relieved, and the meeting was back on for Saturday at three.

 

When Rocco returned home, he wouldn't tell us any­thing other than the gathering would be held at our house, and the date and time. He also suggested that we try and reduce our "activities" for the rest of the week to save ourselves for the big day. Apparently we would be part of an initiation process that would require multiple performances—my cock reached full hardness in seconds at the news.

 

"Don't blow your wig, Frankie, I can't tell you anything—you only have two days until the meeting," Toby said as he dropped us off after school, "slip me five buddy," he said holding out his hand. "I gotta make tracks; my father wants us home on time today," he said and then stopped. "Hey, what's with the snazzy car," he said using the latest slang like the kids at school—it hadn't yet made its way into our heavily Italian Catholic school back in New York, and it always made Benny and me laugh.

 

"I don't know, maybe somebody is visiting," I said, wondering what the shiny Packard was doing next to Zio's old Ford. I had been bugging Toby all week, trying to find out what was going to happen at "the meeting" on Saturday; but now my focus was on the new car in the driveway—was it ours, or did we have another unexpected visitor?

 

Benny and I made our way into the house and found Rocco and Gabriel at the kitchen table drinking coffee while Rocco was drawing on a sheet of paper. Gabe, as he liked to be called, had fitted in well with the family; he was even do­ing the work of a yardman in keeping with the story Rocco had invented so he was wearing nothing but his dirty overalls—he was also fun to play around with on occasion. Rocco had hired John to build a gym and sauna just like theirs, and while that was being started Gabe was constructing a six foot high stockade fence around the back of the property for privacy. Rocco was work­ing as well—he was busy planting his little citrus grove of lemons, oranges, and grapefruit.

 

"What's up Pops?" Benny said, giving his adopted father a kiss on the cheek.

 

"Planning for my grapes," he said turning around the page, "Jon told me where I could get old railroad ties—we're going to make a big square with pipe going across the top and wire on the sides. Then I plant my grapes and they will grow up and over—we can put a nice picnic table underneath in the shade and make some vino from the harvest," he said proudly.

 

"Do we have company?" I asked, and continued when they both looked con­fused, "The new car in the driveway; is someone visiting?"

 

"No, fio, I bought that from a man in Burbank—it's only a year old but he was in desperate need—another one who lost his life savings gambling on stocks," he said shaking his head as he continued with his drawing. Then he looked up at me and Benny, "I want you boys to remember these times—and when you start working, don't ever risk more than you can lose, on anything," he admonished, "A chi ha l'oro fa le regole."

 

"Then I need to make me some more gold so I can make some rules of my own," Gabe said and then roared with laughter.

 

Rocco gave Gabriel a withering look, "This is serious Gabriel, you were born and raised in America—you don't understand what being really poor means. I know, more than anyone how hard it was for your dear mother, may she rest in peace," he said crossing himself, "to earn a living and raise her family—but compared to some of the villages in Italy, especially the south, she would have been considered wealthy. There are two things you all must remember," and then looking directly at Gabe said, "which I thought I had already taught you—always keep your secrets and your family secrets to yourself—and never tell anyone your plans, except between the four of us; we are the family," he said with a gesture of his hand to include all of us. "I will explain more as time moves on—but as for the car, it's a specially built Packard, it has what they call special features that could prevent accidents," noticing our confusion he added, "you know, like maybe by a Chicago typewriter as they say."

 

This news concerned me, I knew that there were threats, but I really didn't think it was serious enough to buy an armored car. The anxiety must have shown on my face; Rocco just smiled at me and said, "Don't worry fio, I'm just making the joke—I bought the car for the price, nothing more."

 

Benny and I left the men to their planning and went to our room to change; it was a cool day so we decided to increase the distance of our run to five miles. Our endurance was improving, and we were both confident that we would easily make the baseball team in February when the high school held try-outs. However Benny was enjoying running so much he was thinking of skipping baseball and trying out for track and field.

 

As we were changing my thoughts returned to Rocco's comment about the car—Benny must have seen the concern on my face. He crossed the room and took me into his arms and kissed me, "Don't worry about anything Frankie; everything will be fine." I decided he was right, so I pulled on my shirt and we hurried off to complete our run before it was time to help with dinner, and my thoughts moved, once again, to the upcoming gathering on Saturday. And so, as we started off on our five mile trek, I tried to imagine what lay ahead for us while silently cursing my new friend Toby for not giving in and spilling the beans. I then pushed all those thoughts from my mind and concentrated on the beautiful scenery as I ran along with Benny, and I also decided to ask for a camera as a Christmas gift so I could send pictures home to my sister—she would love it here but I knew I would never get her to leave our mother.

 

After dinner, instead of listening to our favorite radio programs, Amos `n Andy and a new variety show staring Rudy Vallee, Rocco asked us to stay at the table; he wanted to explain what was going to happen on Saturday. Before he could even get out one word I began to pepper him with questions: What was going to happen? Who was going to be here? Do we get to pick whom we want?

 

Finally Rocco held up his hand, "Basta! Who are you, Orlando furioso?" He asked causing Benny to snicker and branding me for life with the nickname `Frankie furioso'; or most times when I was rushing or speaking quickly just the `furioso'.

 

"Jon said it would be fine to explain a few things about the club so you know what to expect," he started. "The name of the group is `The Sons of Ganymede', and it is based on an ancient Greek legend and the practice of pederasty," he said pouring himself and Gabriel a shot of anisette into their coffee cups. "The adult men are called, like in ancient Greece, `erastes' and the boys are `eromenos.'" He paused to sip his coffee. "What he has explained so far is that the men will meet first and assign the new boys with their erastai—with the approval of their father. This is more than just sex; think of it as having a mentor to teach you the ways of the world," and then looking at me, "like when Enzo brought you to me," he said, smiling fondly.

 

"But do we all have sex together?" I asked, already hard in my pants thinking of the different cocks there would be to sample.

 

"From what I understand, there are more men than boys, and it is up to the pairs to decide if they invite others to participate—many men just choose other men, and there are also times when everyone joins in for one big orgy," he said. He must have noticed me adjusting myself and laughed, "Don't worry furioso, it won't be long and all your questions will be answered."

 

 

We spent most of the morning cleaning the basement, mopping the floor, and installing window shades. Three quarters of the basement had been partitioned off with the intention of it being used as a bar and party room, so the floor had asbestos tiles and the walls were covered in knotty pine.

 

Jon and his boys arrived around ten in the morning with the supplies; I knew what the army surplus cots were for, but the folding privacy screens intrigued me. As we set up Toby explained that each pair would spend some private time together behind the screens on the cots that were set up along the walls around the space. When I asked what the hole drilled in one of the panels was for he laughed, "Sometimes one of the erastai will slide his erection through to be pleasured—you don't have to do it, but it's fun trying to figure out who is on the other end." There were chairs in the center of the room surrounding a dais measuring eight feet square covered in oil cloth. That, Toby explained, was for those who wished to perform for the group.

 

My head was spinning, and the anticipation was building as we sat down to eat lunch. I tried not to keep asking questions, but couldn't help myself, however most were left unanswered. Jon did explain that there were now more erastai than eromenoi, but with the addition of me and Benny that would leave only two extra adults for a total of twelve.

 

The members started arriving at three as instructed, and I must say I was surprised when I caught a glimpse of the group. There was Archie Bumgarner along with a man named Charlie Burns that I knew owned the Packard dealership. Then the blood drained straight down into my teenaged cock for next to arrive was Chuck Roberts—he was the handsome, broad shouldered gym teacher and football coach. Whenever I saw him at school, I thought he looked exactly like Gary Cooper—he was a regular star of many of masturbation sessions.

 

Once everyone had arrived, the boys were directed to the basement, under the direction of Toby, who was the oldest of the eromenoi. He began to undress and told us to do the same; he went on to explain that the erastai were meeting to decide to whom Benny and I would be assigned. He went on to explain exactly what would transpire and the nature of the relationship between man and boy. "We first spend time with our erastai—well they are really more like mentors. Mine is Dr. Adams—we talk about my studies, and what it's like being married, and relationships with girls." We were all looking on amazed and confused; at least I was—I thought this was just about having fun and getting to have sex with different men. Looking across at Benny, I recognized the same look of confusion on his face; I figured we would compare notes later after the event. All nine boys were naked and hard—which wasn't unusual for teenagers.

 

"Why aren't there an equal numbers of boys and men?" Benny asked.

 

"Well Coach Roberts isn't married, he's only twenty-five and is engaged to another teacher; and Mr. Bumgarner's son is his eromenos, but he's away in Boston attending Harvard." He said as he walked up behind me, he wrapped one arm around my waist and used his other hand to insert his dripping hard-on between my thighs, "There are about ten more erastai that have sons not old enough to come to meetings yet—you have to be thirteen, but some of their fathers still show up from time to time," he said sliding his slick cock between my legs. "This club has been around for almost seventy-five years and there are two chapters; one in Chicago and one in Philadelphia, which was the first. It's mostly sons of previous members that keep it going—like Coach Roberts; he joined when he was thirteen and he came back and took his father's place after college," he explained as he began to move his cock in and out pushing in until his slimy cockhead hit my balls. "My dad and Rocco are the only two new members in the last five years—the screening process is very thorough, for obvious reasons," Toby explained as he continued with the frottage and placed light kisses on the back of my neck sending shivers down my spine causing me to groan and lean back into him; then he suddenly pulled away.

 

"This is what most of the erastai do, but some like to do more—it's really up to you how far you want to go," he finished just as the door at the top of the steps opened and revealed a naked Gabriel descending the steps followed by the rest of the men, also naked—I noticed that all of the erastai had a small tattoo above their right nipple. I learned later it was the Greek letter Gamma in a circle. Gabe went behind the makeshift bar and began to mix drinks for the adults and told us there were bottles of pop in the washtub filled with ice.

 

The erastai stood in a circle in the middle of the space and began calling out names: Jon was first and Reid Donald went and stood in front of him with his back to Jon. One by one the names were called until finally the bank manager, Arthur Donald, called Benny's name leaving me standing alone.

There were three men left, Charlie Roberts, Tadashi Muto, and Coach Roberts—but he technically already had an eromenos who was away at school. The Coach always looked great in his sweatshirt and gym shorts, but naked he looked like one the Greek Gods that we were emulating. I was silently praying that it would be Mr. Muto who would call my name, for while Charlie was handsome in business suit, and naked he looked interesting; it was Mr. Muto's exotic looks drew me to him like a magnet. He was well muscled but not bulked like the coach, and he was taller than most Japanese men I had met during our short time in Pasadena.

 

While I loved Rocco, and especially my Benny—the thought of playing with Mr. Muto was extremely exciting; he was handsome, masculine, and completely different from any man I had ever been with. As I waited to hear which of the men would call my name I was so excited that the air in the room seemed to disappear and I found it hard to get my breath—and there was loud buzzing in my ears and the next thing I knew someone was hitting my shoulder.

"Frank, your name was called," it was Gabe who had been walking around with a tray of cocktails, and when I came out of my fog I saw Mr. Muto smiling at me. I moved across the space to stand in front of him—it was as if I was floating. The raw sex appeal that this tightly muscled man oozed was overwhelming; I took my place in front of him like the other boys and immediately felt his hard cock push between my legs just as Toby had done.

 

Judge Pierce, the oldest of the erastai, asked each boy if he was willing to join the brotherhood—we all answered yes. Then he led the group in a pledge of secrecy and fidelity before introducing the new president, who surprisingly was Rocco—and then each erastes guided his eromenos behind a screen to the waiting cots. Mr. Muto lay down on his side and told me to do the same facing him. The scratching sound of a record began and when the music started it was Nick Lucas singing "Tip-Toe Through the Tulips".

 

With the screen providing privacy Mr. Muto kissed me tenderly and stroked my face telling me how beautiful I was and began to explain the working of the club. "Only the smartest and most handsome boys are invited to join, and from now on you may call me `Sensei' when we are alone or while at a meeting," he told me, as he placed his throbbing erection between my legs; I could feel the pre-cum leaking from his helmet-shaped head and he asked me once again if I was sure about joining—I answered by kissing my way down his neck until I was sucking on his large bronze nipple and flicking my tongue and teasing him. Pulling me back up and looking me in the eye, he explained that the group was more than just sex—it was a celebration of masculinity, and he was to be my mentor—someone outside my family that I could turn to when I needed help or advice. He also told me that the choice of sex acts was entirely mine—if I didn't want to participate there would be no shame or recriminations. I thought about this for a moment, almost all of the men were married—and the coach was engaged—and yet each was laying naked with a boy doing probably the same things that Sensei and I were doing. Did this make them all homosexuals? Sensei must have noticed a confused look on my face and smiled.

 

As he traced his finger around my erect nipples and then down the trail of hair that led to my cock he asked, "I'll bet you're wondering why married men would be members of a club like this, am I right?"

 

"Yes sir," I said, as my body tingled when he reached between us and began to play with my still erect cock.

 

Propping himself up on his elbow he began to lick my chest and nipples; the music changed again, this time it was Al Jolson singing "Sonny Boy", the timing of the song caused us both to laugh as he continued down my abdomen until he reached my cock which was lying flat against my belly—he gave the head a lick and then came back up and kissed me. His exotic looks intoxicated me; his hard hairless body excited me. I had experienced many erotic couplings with men, but lying with Sensei was especially stimulating—so stimulating that when he moved down my body and swallowed me again I lost all control and flooded his mouth. He looked up at me and smiled, and then moved back up and kissed me allowing me to taste my own seed.

 

With my first orgasm out of the way he began to tell me more about the club, "There are many men who love other men; especially beautiful young boys. In ancient times it was an accepted practice and later, even among the Shogun. In Japan it was called `bi-do', that translates to `the beautiful way,' and was a tradition that was guarded with jealously; `the way of the youth,' was practiced by all members of the Samurai, from the lowest warrior to the highest lord," he explained as he caressed my body and slid his leaking erection between my thighs. "The Japanese, as well as the Greeks equated love between men and boys as something special in human nature. For some of us, our only interest in women is to produce a family; and for others their wives have little interest in active sex lives after the birth of children."

 

He continued to lick and caress my body, causing sensations I had never felt before; he was truly worshiping my body, and I loved every minute of it. He had turned me around so that my back was pressed against his chest, his cock wedged in the crack of my ass and his fingers teasing my erect and sensitive nipples. It was then that I noticed a large erect cock slide through the hole in the screen only inches from my face, it bobbed up and down as a drop of pre-cum escaped the overhanging foreskin to slide down from the tip like honey off a spoon.

 

"I would bet that is Coach Roberts, he is on his own today—taste him if you please," he encouraged. I leaned forward and licked the head first and then nibbled on the excess skin—and that caused a moan. I began to take more of the cock into my mouth as my mentor whispered encouragement into my ear, continuing to rub his own leaking sword between my legs. As he offered advice he began to use his hands to manipulate my body causing spasms of pleasure and then he whispered, "Perhaps you would like to have the Coach join us out on the dais?" The thought of having both of these men make love to me in front of an audience actually made me shiver. Mr. Muto left the cot and went around the other side of the screen while I continued to devour the tasty jock cock that was sliding through the hole. A few minutes passed, and suddenly the delicious cock was pulled back, and the coach and Sensei returned.

 

"Your Sensei tells me you're interested in allowing me to join you—are you sure about this?" He asked. I learned later that the erastai always ask permission. I answered by pulling him to me and kissing him deeply. The coach lay back on the cot and pulled my head back down on his cock while Sensei moved behind and began to rim me vigorously, spreading my cheeks and running his face up and down while stopping to tongue fuck me in preparation for being penetrated. We then moved out into the middle of the room and resumed our playing with me on my knees going down on the coach and my teacher behind working my ass. Soon the coach had me on my back as the Sensei held my legs up as the massive jock cock filled my ass and I groaned around the slender helmet headed erection that was now being pushed into my mouth.

 

The three of us moved in perfect harmony, and I became aware that we were attracting the attention of the others as they moved towards us and began to watch our performance while masturbating. At one point Toby and Benny moved up onto the platform and placed their dripping cocks in my hands and I stroked them while the two men drove me into a frenzy; they came shortly and were replaced Iggy Muto and Reid Donald—they also shot fast covering my face with more hot boy juice. The coach was beginning to pant heavily and calling out that he was about to bust his nut, and I also announced that I was close. At that point Sensei pulled out of my mouth and knelt in front of me taking my dripping erection in his mouth just as I felt my insides flooded and I spilled in my new mentor's mouth. As we lay panting I began to feel ropes of semen hitting us from all sides as the remaining spectators sprayed us with their seed.

 

Just over an hour later the meeting was over, and the members had left except for the Ornes. While we were cleaning the floor and breaking down the cots Toby pulled me aside and quietly said, "You were so lucky, I've wanted to play around with the Coach since I became a member, but Bumgarner isn't into sharing."

 

"Don't worry buddy," I said grabbing his cock and giving it a squeeze, "maybe we can invite him over for dinner one night—you know Rocco loves to entertain," and received a big smile in return.

 

Later that night in bed, Benny and I reviewed the events of the day and decided we really loved the group action. Then we moved on to discuss the other boys, and we agreed that Toby was still the biggest stud and that Iggy was the most beautiful. Not in the mood for sex after the day's activity we lay together, Benny's head on my chest and my arm holding him close. I kissed the top of his head and quietly said, "As sexy as all those guys are, you are the one I'll love for the rest of my life," and with that pledge he snuggled closer to me and we fell asleep.

 

 

To be continued...

 

 

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