Date: Tue, 27 May 2003 20:59:24 -0700 From: gymhunk Subject: Black and White, Chapter 95. All Disclaimers BLACK AND WHITE Chapter 95--Taxes, Taxes, Taxes! "Believe it or not," Dave said, answering my question about his night with Jerrod, "he's nearly as eager a bottom as Dex." "Oh, I can believe it," I assured him. "Darren good-naturedly complains about it. But, I don't think there's any depth to his complaints. He loves Jerrod deeply, especially his ass! And I think they're enjoying their foray into naughtiness with us," I surmised. "I'll bet we're the only couple they fuck around with." "We're certainly not the first!" Dave looked at me incredulously. "Not by a long shot," I replied. "They've been around. But, from what Darren was telling me, they've lost touch with other couples that they've played with." "No single men?" "No, they don't do singles. They're afraid a single man could come between them." "Isn't that less than trustful of their love for each other?" Dave questioned. "I think it has more to do with fear of lust that'll turn to ashes in their mouths, and they'll have lost the true love of their lives in the meantime," I suggested. "They've been together longer than we have by a bunch," Dave began. "Don't they trust themselves?" "Familiarity can breed contempt or complacency," I answered. "New and different can turn many heads." "So, how did we escape that problem?" "We're too new at it, AND we started out bringing other men to our bed. It works for us. So far, anyway," I ventured. "They know their relationship and its boundaries better than we do. It works for them to go only so far." "How was Darren last night?" Dave asked, changing the subject slightly. "A real pussycat. He's great at lovemaking, but it's so clear how much he loves Jerrod. He even called me Jerrod a couple of times," I laughed. "I don't look anything like him!" "Same thing happened with Jerrod. He called me Darren when I was pounding his ass. He was so into it!" "Yeah, they love each other. But, we do seem to know how to push their buttons and give them as good a time as their boyfriend does," I smiled back. "So, what's on for this weekend?" "I'm gonna work on our taxes. I have my W-2 from the State. Did you get yours yet? Did I miss it?" "No, you didn't miss it," Dave assured me. "But, it should come in any day now." "I think I got mine early because I quit early in the year, so there was no need to wait until the last minute to add more income to my last check," I surmised. "I was hoping your old law firm would do the same; especially, with that big settlement we got." "You know," Dave mused, "when we were in Las Vegas a couple of weeks ago, John Wells said that I needed to go back and reread the fine print of the settlement. There was something about taxes that we missed. Did he say anything to you?" "Well, he did start to say something to me obliquely about the settlement, but we got interrupted by someone else. We never got back to it." "Maybe, he figures that if he told me, I'd relay the message?" "Well, he was right. You did relay the message. So, where's the settlement agreement?" "In the safe deposit box at the bank," Dave reminded me. "Oh, yeah. Duh!" The doorbell rang. Our postman stood on the front porch with a package and our mail in hand. "Hi, Bill," I smiled. "Damn! It's cold out there. Wanna come in and warm your toes?" He glanced at his watch. "What I need is a bathroom!" he grinned. I directed him to the bathroom while Dave sorted through the mail for us. The package was from the porno film studio that Morgan, Zack, and Jim worked for. Besides trash mail, the W-2 from Dave's law firm had arrived. "Thanks, Mike and Dave. I really needed that," Bill smiled, zipping back up. "I only had one more house on your street to do and then, I'd have to find a place to pee or bust. These cold days make it harder than ever to hold my bladder. It's gotta be that one extra cup of hot coffee before I start my route that does it," he explained. "Well, I'm glad you're feeling better," Dave grinned. "You boys aficionados of the stars at this company?" he asked, picking up the package and waving it at us. "Oh, we know a couple of the guys who star in their films. We met them in San Francisco at the last Folsom Street Fair," I explained. "Oh, which ones?" Dave told him about Morgan, Zack, and Jim, including some of the scandalous times at our hotel room afterwards. He judiciously left out the "performance" at the studio booth on the street. "Have you seen some of the street scene stuff this year?" he blurted out. "It's all over the Internet. A couple of guys, one black and one white, were fucking the hell out of two of these guys." He indicated the package, again. "Morgan probably sent us a studio copy of his latest starring role," Dave dodged. "Oh, which one is that? Has it been officially released, yet? I get all their fliers," he added breathlessly. Having no real choice, Dave opened the "plain, brown wrapper" to reveal a colorful DVD box with us fucking two of our favorite porn stars. A sticky note on the front read, "The newest, re-edited version of your starring, but anonymous roles." Bill was a fast read. "NO SHIT! You guys are the mystery fuckers? Well, sure!" it dawned on him. "A hot, black and white couple. Gotta be you!" Dave and I looked at each other (like deer caught in the headlights of an on- rushing semi). "Uh, well, you see, we, uh, didn't know we were being filmed," Dave explained lamely. "But, it did attract a crowd and most of them had video cameras." "Amazing! That loop is the talk of the Internet. My boyfriend showed it to me a couple of days ago. We fucked like bunnies afterwards." Bill openly appraised us. "I'll certainly see you two in a different light now," he giggled. He checked his watch again. "Oh, damn! Time to get back to it. See ya later," he smiled devilishly. "Uh, Bill," I began. "We'd appreciate it if you didn't spread this around. We're trying to remain anonymous." "The world won't be hearing it from me, but I gotta tell the boyfriend." "Swear him to secrecy, too, then?" Dave pressed. "Sure. I understand your position. I wouldn't want this out to the world, either. But, let me be honest here. You guys are HOT in that loop! I always thought you were a great couple. Now, it's real easy to see why you're together: hot, hung, terrific bodies, and great tops." "Uh, thanks," Dave blushed. "I don't think we'll ever get the genie back in the bottle," I sighed after Bill had gone. "It's out of our hands now. I just hope that our friends who know will be discrete." Dave nodded dejectedly. "I hope so, too." He returned to the kitchen and scooped up the W-2 from his former employer and handed it to me. I took it upstairs and went to the computer. I opened the tax software, then, the envelope. "What the fuck?" I boomed. "Dave! You gotta see this!" He finished washing his hands and came upstairs. "What's the catastrophe?" he asked. I handed him the W-2's from his former law firm (one for him and one for me as per the agreement). "What am I supposed to be seeing?" he aimlessly wondered, scanning the form. "What's this bullshit! We didn't settle for more than $20 million each. Gawd! Look at the fuckin' tax bite!" It was nearly 38%! "Did they fuck up?" I wondered. "I'll call on Monday and find out," Dave offered. "There won't be anyone in the business office on the weekend." "Look at the difference between the gross amount and the tax," I said with growing excitement. "It's exactly twelve and a half million each. That's what we each got, remember?" Dave nodded, confusion still etched on his face. "That shrewd lawyer of ours talked them into a NET settlement of $25,000,000! The taxes are already paid! That crafty, old fox!" "You're shittin' me!" he grinned. "Really?" "Until we look at the settlement agreement, again, I see no other explanation." "We'll look at the agreement before I call the business office. I don't wanna look like a complete ass by calling them. This is confidential enough that even the business office may not know about it." "No damned wonder Brent didn't say anything about filing quarterly estimates of tax liability when we talked to him. He'd read over the entire agreement and saw that the taxes were already paid (or withheld)." "You gave him a copy of the agreement?" Dave blustered. "That may abrogate the settlement!" "He's sworn to secrecy. It was a calculated risk, but I thought he needed to see the exact nature of the money, rather than our version of it, so he could give us sound advice," I soothed. "He won't blab." "For our sake, I sure hope not," Dave bristled. "Relax, Dave," I said, kissing him. He was stiff with anger. "He'd lose his license if he blabbed this. He's got other clients who pay him big money to manage their assets, VERY confidentially. He can't afford to be indiscrete." He markedly weakened. "You sure?" he asked, searching my eyes. "Yes, I'm very sure," I smiled, patting his round, muscled ass. "Brent could be forced to reveal it in court, I suppose. But that would really make a mess of things for your old law firm. They'd lose their collective asses; and probably have to settle for more with us, as well as previous men and women fired because they're queer." Dave glanced at the forms, again. "Wow! Tax free money! That's so fuckin' amazing! John sure did good by us." "Yeah, he did. He fucked them over BIG time." "So, now we have even more real money to invest and spend. We can absolutely afford our dream house!" "Well, we can, but the question still remains: do we really wanna do that? Location is everything, remember?" I cautioned. "It is," Dave agreed. "But, I'm still calling Scott to see what he can do for us. How about this afternoon?" "It doesn't cost anything to look," I acceded. "And I'll call London while you call Scott. The taxes can wait." "So, what do we want?" Dave asked, trying to get the discussion started about a new house. "We want to say as close to where we are, if possible," I began. "However, I wouldn't mind the neighborhood that Jerrod and Darren are in. It's close to the freeway, shopping, and friends. I want a sunny space for the orchids (or one that can be built easily enough), large rooms, and a solid house. I'm willing to look at homes that will require some remodeling to update the kitchen and bathrooms. But, I'm absolutely opposed to a great big house that has only bedrooms upstairs with the master bedroom downstairs. We'd never go upstairs. What's the point of having it? So, how about you? What would be show-stoppers for you?" "I'd like a space that I could used for a studio with lots of light in it. I've been thinking of doing something like stained glass or pottery," Dave revealed. I didn't know he'd been thinking about doing something "crafty" at all. Dave's full of surprises. "And I think we need a nice, sunny room for working on our computers. I know you spend quite a bit of time on your genealogy there, so the space should be big enough for lots of files and bookcases, as well as natural light. I've been thinking of doing some volunteer legal work, so I'd want the space big enough for my files and books, too, in the same room. The kind of computer work both of us do is pretty quiet, but intense. I don't think we'd be in each other's way if we worked in the same room." "If we go to a bigger house, we'll have to have some kind of housekeeping service," I warned. "That'll be an additional expense, besides the big increase in property taxes." "Mike, remember; we have LOTS of money? Stop worrying!" We made our calls. Conrad and Max were finally home. I chatted non-stop with them for nearly twenty minutes. Considering how foul our weather is during the late winter and early spring, I convinced them to postpone their visit until late April or early May. Otherwise, they'd be flying from gloomy London to the equally gloomy rainforest we lived in. They had spent the holidays in southern Italy, soaking up the sunshine, and taking the occasional, swarthy Italian to bed. However, it hadn't just been the natives that they fucked with. Being the equal opportunity fucks that they are, they also bedded down with other vacationers from the northern latitudes, including a Swede, two Germans, a tall Dutchman, and three burly lads from Scotland. "A most enjoyable holiday," Conrad purred. I relayed the details of their vacation to Dave. "We need to do that one of these days, too," he said dreamily. "Leave the Northwest's nasty, wet winter and head for something sunny. It won't be on the Thanksgiving/Christmas holidays, of course. We have other obligations then; but by February and March, I'm ready for some real sun." "Not a bad idea," I agreed. "But, what did Scott have to say." "Oh, yeah," he remembered, shifting gears. "He said he's available this afternoon, and will bring over his computer. We can go on some virtual tours of the homes before we see them for real. You should have heard him. When I told him what we had in mind, I could almost hear him salivating over the big commission he'll get." "I hope he didn't drop someone else. We're only looking now, not necessarily buying." "But, the prospect of selling one of the high-end homes has him pretty well focused on us," Dave replied. "We can remind him again that we're window shopping now, not motivated to buy, yet." "Famous last words," I laughed. "You know as well as I do that if we see the house of our dreams, we'll pounce. And all our reluctance to move will be history." "You're sounding like me, now!" Dave smiled. "Warming to the idea, are we?" "Well, it just depends on what Scott has for us," I said. "Did you tell him this would be a cash sale?" "Didn't mention it," he remarked. "It'll close faster, won't it?" "Yeah, but we still have some inspection and appraisal hoops to jump through. Did he mention a time?" "Yeah, he wanted to take an hour and review what was out there before he came over. I think the market we're looking at is pretty thin. There aren't that many people with big bucks looking at the luxury home market, despite the fact that interest rates are near 30-year lows." "And probably heading lower the way things are going," I sighed. "I wonder if we should pay low interest and use the cash instead for investing?" "That depends on whether you think you can make more in the market than you'd be paying out in interest," Dave reminded me. "I think I'll talk to John and Gino again about that," I considered. "They know that kinda stuff better than I do." Scott arrived an hour later. We went through our "needs" again, discarding several homes that Scott thought might qualify. Location was the biggest drawback. Several new subdivisions were being built, but they looked like "McMansions" (crammed together, big, plain boxes, but with large floor plans). We definitely weren't interested in that group. There were two large "estates" that were for sale, but they were about 30 miles away from town. The homes were gracious, big places, tastefully decorated, with acreage. But, they were so far away from civilization. Gentlemen farmer is not what we had in mind, either. An older house across the street from the park was on the market. The location was good, as it was only a few blocks from our current house. But, being across from the park had parking issues, litter, crowds, and dog shit. Besides, the lot was almost too small for the house. That had pluses and minuses, but the other problems loomed too large. So, we passed on that one, too. Bottom line: there wasn't anything on the market that we wanted. Scott suggested that we look at property and build what we wanted. Reminding him again of our desire to stay close to town, he plowed through his database, looking for buildable lots. "Price is no object," Dave prompted, "in case that matters." "It might," Scott said. "But, most of the buildable lots are gone, especially the large ones that you'd want for the size of house you want." (We'd shown him a couple of the house plans that Dave had marked from his magazine.) Nothing popped up that met our needs. "Let me go back and ask some of the other agents what they have on the back burner. Some property isn't on the market, because the family can't agree on selling it, or the price they'd been asking is over what the market is willing to support." "You might try in the Highlands where Jerrod and Darren live," I proposed. "There are empty lots there, but the owners may just be waiting for the right time to build." "You like that area?" Scott pressed. "Not was well as where we are," I cautioned. "But, it has other amenities." "Then, I'll check it out," Scott agreed. Shortly after Scott left, the coaches called. "We have a couple of prospects," Chuck Bradley said. "Does Dex care about color?" "No," I quickly answered. "He cares about big dicks." They laughed. "I've only talked to one of them about Dex. The other guy doesn't know that we have him in our sights, yet," Coach Randy revealed. "The one we've talked to is pretty new to the man-to-man stuff and he's got some attitude issues about getting fucked. You know, all that macho bullshit about real men don't get fucked." "Yeah, we know the type," Dave agreed. "What about the other guy?" I questioned. "A nice, white boy," Randy smirked. "But, he's a big fucker. Muscles everywhere, fast as hell on the field, big dick, loves to fuck." "Yeah, several times a day, if he had his way," Chuck added laughing. "Sounds like the kinda guy Dex would love," Dave chortled. "You done both of them?" I asked. "Yeah," Randy answered. "If you're looking for a hot fuck, the big, black stud named Ashad is your man. But, if you want a lover who'll pound your butt into the mattress several times a day in all kinds of positions, Christian's your man." "Christian can fuck all day and all night. He took us both on one night and was pumpin' my ass or Randy's all the time. He must have cum a dozen times and still wanted more," Chuck laughed. "If I were only younger," he sighed. "You wouldn't be able to take him on then, either," Randy allowed. "Probably not, but he's insatiable," Chuck added. "You sure Dex can handle that much man?" "Well, we did wear him out once when we were tag-teaming him," I said. "But, he was ready for more within another day, I'm sure." "He got a big dick?" Dave wondered. "Give me more of a description." "Yeah, REAL big dick. Probably 10" of prime beef, nice and thick, too," Chuck sighed contentedly. "But, I like Randy's better," he giggled. "Yeah, who wouldn't? But, back to Christian," Dave pressed. "Okay, let me get out the profile and see what it says," Randy offered. We heard paper rustling, then, Randy began reading. "Let's see. He's 6'6", weighs 245; position is linebacker, graduated cum laude from UCLA, majoring in business, 23 years old, fast as hell, especially for a big guy, brown hair, brown eyes..." "Bedroom eyes," Chuck interrupted. "He could get anyone in bed, if he tried." "And he'd already fucked most of the team that swings that way," Randy confirmed. "No one has said that he gets fucked, but we know he does. He rode both of our dicks, but only once." "You old goats are probably too ancient for him," Dave smirked into the phone. "He'd prefer someone younger, like us." "He wants someone to love, not a couple. I believe Dex said the same thing?" Chuck recalled. "But, he's more than willing to bed a couple in the meantime." "Has he done Gene and Kurt, yet?" I wondered aloud. "Yeah, one of his first couples," Randy confirmed. "I wonder why they haven't mentioned him?" Dave said. "Keeping him for themselves?" Chuck ventured. "He's pretty hot!" "More likely, they only got him once and he moved on to sample more of the team," Randy suggested. "And Gene and Kurt are far more versatile than he likes. His beautiful ass is so fuckable! They may have put too many moves on his butt." "I can understand that," Dave laughed. "A hot ass always makes me wanna fuck, even if he does have a big dick for my butt." "So, when do we 'interview' these men?" I asked. "We need to talk to Christian to see if he's interested in a Marine and a couple of old fossils like you," Randy said. "He may have someone in mind already. He's quite a catch." "Fossils?" Dave blurted out. "Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black?" "Compared to these young bucks, we're all over the hill," Chuck sighed. "Speak for yourself, Mr. Geezer!" Randy chuckled. "I've got many more years of fuckin' and suckin' ahead of me." "With the geriatric crowd, maybe," Chuck dished back. "Vicious!" Randy spat, then, laughed. "I'm gonna fuck you to death tonight." "How about right now? Let's get an early start!" Chuck countered. "Incorrigible, too," Randy said. "That's why I love him so." "So, besides Christian, who have you guys been fuckin'?" Dave asked. "Well, your brother and his boyfriend, Trevor," Randy sighed. "A couple of the hottest studs I've ever met. We get to them every week or so. Donnie is so sweet and so hung. I love playing with him." "And Trevor is so experienced. He loves it all," Chuck crowed. "It takes a day to recover after a night with those two." "Of course, there's the occasional team member that we bring to our bed," Randy added. "Most of them are intimidated by us, because we're two of the coaches. We could make or break their careers. But, we always tell them that we're in this for the fun of it, not to grade them. Besides, we have little say in who stays and who goes." "And we don't come on to them, unless they have made it clear to us that they wanna fuck with us," Chuck broke in. "We don't want them to think they have to play around with us to stay on the team or get playing time." "Like Randy and his monster dick in the showers with them isn't coming on to them?" Dave smiled. "Or Chuck bending over to pick up the soap showing off his hot, muscle ass?" "Well, they need to see the merchandise, if they're in a shopping mood," Chuck laughed. "Display is part of merchandising!" "Any of those guys possible husbands for Dex?" I pursued. "They're all bottoms or too versatile," Randy answered. "Not exactly what you had in mind for Dex," he reminded me. "What about Ashad?" Dave pressed. "He sounds like he might be more attitude than Dex is willing to put up with. What's your take on the guy?" "VERY hot in bed, but I'm not sure he's relationship material, now that you mention it," Chuck agreed. "He's got a great body, extremely well hung, and really knows how to fuck. But, he doesn't like someone playing with his ass. He's afraid you're gonna wanna fuck him. And with that ass, I'm sure he's been hit on a lot." "I heard from one of our bedmates on the team that he's got some girlfriend on the side as well," Randy disclosed. "He may be truly bisexual or likes fuckin' man booty. He's not real warm; not a kisser, as I recall." "Does love to eat butt, though," Chuck recalled fondly. "He ate me so good that I was begging for his monster dick." "Yeah, he loves to rim!" Randy agreed. "But, when he's ready to fuck, you get it all at once. That hurts like hell, but after a few seconds, it feels SO good." "I don't think that's Dex's cup of tea," Dave finally announced. "He's a lover, not a sperm depository. He wants the guy to love him, not his butthole." "I think Ashad's off the list, then," Randy confirmed. Chuck agreed. "Why don't you guys talk to Christian to see if he's interested, and we'll get another perspective from Gene and Kurt?" I suggested. With agreement all around, we disconnected. "I'm gonna go play with our taxes and see what the bad news is. We've got a lot of short-term capital gains we have to pay taxes on," I said. "You wanna call Kurt and Gene and pump them for information on Christian?" Dave agreed to call and I went back to the computer upstairs. After plunging through all the numbers, I determined that the law firm had overpaid the taxes on the settlement. Rather than assuming a progressive tax structure, they assumed that all of the settlement money would be taxed at the highest rate of 38%. So, they paid $7,661,290 in taxes for us. After considering our small salaries before we quit (including taxes withheld), our $8.5 million in short-term capital gains, our big contributions to PFLAG and Susan G. Komen Foundation, mortgage interest, property taxes, and sales taxes paid, we both wound up with a small refund. (We split everything down the middle for income and deductions.) I gave Dave the good news, reminding him where we were invested now. I also told him that I'd moved 10% of our gain on investments to a money market account (so we could make donations, again), plus living expenses money. He nodded his head at the end result, but was completely lost as to how I got there. He smiled and said, "Whatever works. You're the accountant, not me. So, how much do we have to give away?" "A little better than $1.876 million; a little better than 75% of what we gave away last year," I replied. "Ideas on where you want to give it away?" "PFLAG hasn't even begun to spend the money we gave them," Dave answered. "That's such a big chunk of change that they're still struggling with designing new programs to use it. They don't want to blow it all at once and have nothing left to carry on successful programs later. Perhaps, this year, we should give some money to the Susan G. Komen Foundation in Las Vegas instead of here. Cindy would love it." "Let me call one of my old co-workers and find out how Komen is doing here. They may have the same problem that PFLAG does," I suggested. "How much you wanna send to Las Vegas?" "Let's look at other causes before deciding that. How about money for hospice care for AIDS patients? There are a couple of places here in town that care for our brothers in need, because of the stage of their illness," Dave related. "I'm sure they can use the money. But, we might want to designate it as to be used for a certain kind of care or expense, like salaries, or a building fund?" "They know better than we do where the needs are," I said. "Maybe it would be better if it were an unrestricted gift, unless you feel strongly about it." "No, I don't. I just want those guys to get the best care possible." "How about something for the Head Start program?" I proposed. "Those kids always need new books and supplies. We could even donate some computers. We could have Nick build them for us and give them away. It'd give Nick business and the Head Start program some much needed computer equipment." "I like that idea. But, we'd have to buy printers, software, and computer supplies like paper and cartridges elsewhere. Nick doesn't build those." "But, I'll bet he has a line on the best places to get them," I said, warming to the idea even more. "Let's go next door and see if he's interested. He may even get some of his suppliers to donate parts. This could snowball really fast." "How much money are you thinking about?" Dave asked. "Minimum of $100,000," I answered. "That's for everything. Let Nick decide how it should be divided up between equipment and supplies. Doesn't Maureen next door work with Head Start?" Dave nodded his head. "I'll bet she knows how many Head Start programs there are in town and how far these computers could spread." "We're probably looking at more than $100,000, then." "We've got it." "We'll talk to Nick first; then, decide how much to put into this when we know how much per computer." "Fair enough. But, I'm gonna call Maureen to see if she has a number right off the top of her head for the number of Head Start programs in town," I cautioned. "We need to know the magnitude of the program, too." Dave waited while I called our neighbor. (A note of explanation: our neighbor Dale and his wife no longer lived there. Maureen and her husband Jerry live there now. Dale broke up with his wife and is now living with Leonard (Len), the black, football player.) Maureen told me that there were nine programs in the greater metro area. All of them were short of staff, materials, and equipment. The Feds didn't fund them well enough to satisfy the needs of all who apply. "In this economy, the waiting list just gets longer and longer", she added with a sigh. "You and Dave could volunteer for just a few hours a week and make an enormous difference. That's our biggest need now is volunteers. We don't have the budget for more paid staff." I thanked her for the information and said that we were thinking of helping in some way. "Dell sells some low end computers for under $500," Dave said to Nick. "Could you build us 100, connected to servers in nine locations with minimal software? This is a Head Start program, so there is little need for powerful computers. The servers would be extra. We also need printers in all nine locations, plus paper, toner cartridges, etc." Nick looked at us blankly. "One HUNDRED computers? How soon do you need them?" Nick asked, wondering if we'd lost our minds. "How fast can you build them?" I replied. Nick shook his head in wonderment. I could see the wheels turning. We had lost our minds, but he was going to play along, he decided, because he liked the Head Start program and knew we just might have the bucks to do it. "I'd suggest rolling them out, one site at a time, fully operational from the get-go. Do you have someone available or on call at each site to make sure that they keep running?" Nick pressed. "I can build a minimum of ten each week, assuming there are no snags in the supply chain. The printers and supplies are readily available, so that won't hold us back. No modems, just network cards, right?" We nodded. "Okay, the servers will run about $3,000 to run a network of up to 20 computers. Some of the software can run there instead of the individual machines, saving some money. Are all the sites gonna be the same number of computer stations?" "I doubt it," Dave said. "Some Head Start sites are larger than others and have more kids to serve." "So, 20 should be the high-end of need for computer connections, including a shared printer?" We nodded, again. "But, we need to talk to the Head Start coordinator and see what he or she suggests. I know some of the sites already have a few computers," I said, recalling other details that Maureen had told me. "And be sure to use the heavy duty keyboards. Kids can be pretty heavy handed." "I'd already thought of that, as well as sturdy towers and servers. I assume you're doing several computers in addition to a server, because if the server crashes, the whole shebang is gone?" Nick grinned. "A little bit of experience on servers does poison my mind," I admitted. "I totally agree," Nick nodded. "They don't have server software written yet that's idiot proof, nor server hardware that doesn't hiccup sometimes. I think you've made a wise decision." "So, what kind of total are we talking about?" Dave wondered. "Let's see: 100 computers without software (other than the operating system), I can do that for $350 each. The nine servers (including server software) will be another $27,000; nine printers will add another $2700; add some supplies for $5000 (including toner cartridges and lots of paper). I think the schools need to tell you what software they need. Find out what their cost is and I'll see if I can beat it. If you want to upgrade the monitors to those LCD flat screen ones, I can do that for another $200 each." I'd been adding it up in my head as he rattled off the numbers. "That takes a big bite out of $90,000, plus or minus a little. We were looking at a minimum investment of $100,000," I added with a straight face. "Uh, you'll need that for the kid's software," Nick replied. "You totally serious about this? $100,000 for Head Start in the metro area for computers and peripherals?" "Sure, why not?" "I know you've got the bucks rolling uphill from all the scuttlebutt on the street, but this is way generous of you guys," Nick said in wonder. "Let me see if I can shave off more for these kids and get my suppliers to cut me an even better deal, because of who the order is for." "That's the spirit, Nick," Dave grinned broadly. "Make it happen, Buddy!" "We'll buy dinner for you and Mark at any restaurant in town, if you can pull this off for us," I added. "When can we get the first shipment?" "I always have a few in stock and components for several more. My suppliers are great at next day delivery, so I can have the first shipment of no fewer than ten to you by no later than Friday," Nick gushed. "This is such a great idea. You're true philanthropists." "This will be an anonymous gift, Nick. Please don't divulge where this is coming from," Dave said. "We don't want to be inundated by other charities, too." "Mum's the word," he smiled. "We'll talk to the administrator of Head Start tomorrow and find out how to go about getting the computers placed. We'll ask her to canvass her staff in all locations to see if they know of some 'propeller head' to service the computers after they're installed. I'm sure there are lots of high school kids who'd love to do this," I assured him. "What about Internet access?" Nick asked. "These are all pre-school kids. At that age, I don't think they understand words well enough to type in an Internet address," Dave claimed. "I think it'll be word games, number games, and shape and color recognition and identification. The software is really a lot of fun for the kids." "Let me know about the software as soon as you find out. I'd like to load it on the computers before I deliver them," Nick reminded us. "And the sooner you have those kids lined up to service the machines, the better. I'd like to talk to them about the systems they'll be dealing with." "What kinda money do you need up front?" I asked. "Uh, well, how about $10,000 a week until we finish the contract in nine weeks," he proposed. "I think we're just a touch over $90,000 before we add in the kid's software. I'm sure I can shave off enough to keep it at or under $90,000. So, let's make that the contract amount. I'll write you a purchase agreement for the whole thing, including my commitment to deliver and install on time. Let me know the configuration of the sites, so I know how many I'm delivering each week." "As soon as we get that from the Head Start administrator, we'll let you know," Dave promised. Monday, we talked to the Head Start administrator. Miss Hannah was floored by our suggested donation. "These kids need to be a part of the new century. They'll get there now with your gift of computers," she nearly wept. "We have a curriculum specialist who can tell you all the software to get. And I'll get the word out right away to the local high schools that we need some computer maintenance help with our programs on a volunteer basis. Those kids are always looking for volunteer work that they can enjoy, and will look good on their college applications." "Let us know who they are, so our computer builder can talk to them about the systems that he's building. And ask the curriculum person to contact him as well. He may be able to get you a real deal on the kid's software. We're paying for that, too, but we might as well make the money stretch as far as we can," I reminded her. "Again, this is an anonymous gift. We expect you to respect the confidentiality of the gift," Dave added gravely. "Absolutely!" she agreed. "But, can we send out a press release. Sometimes, these kinds of gifts will inspire others to contribute in other ways." "Sure. Just keep our names out of it," we agreed. "Now, here's Nick's address and phone number, so you can work closely with him," I instructed handing her Nick's business card. "We're paying for everything through him, so you won't be hearing from us, again, unless you absolutely must contact us." On the way home, we stopped at the bank and checked our settlement agreement with Dave's former law firm. Sure enough, John Wells had convinced the firm to lay $25,000,000 tax-free. We owed him, again. Somehow, we'd have to think of a way to repay him. No sooner had we gotten home than Nick called. "You work fast," he chortled. "I've already heard from the administrator and curriculum guy. I'll have the schedule of deliveries included in the purchase agreement, thanks to the administrator. The instructional software for the kids will eat up just under $10,000. Any problems with that?" We assured him there was no problem. "Bring the agreement by the house tonight and we'll hand you the first check for $10,000," Dave directed. "And make the agreement for $100,000, to include the instructional software." "It's a pleasure doing philanthropy with you," Nick laughed. "If I can swing a better deal with my suppliers, we may be able to squeeze out more than 100 computers." "That'd be great, Nick," we said in unison. Miss Hannah moved fast. Tuesday morning's newspaper included an article on the front page of the Metro section about the "generous, anonymous gift of computers, printers, flat screen monitors, teaching software, and computer supplies" given to the metropolitan area Head Start programs. The administrator made a plea for matching funds to go with the computers for instructors and other "enrichment" supplies and services. We hoped the plea hit other, kind-hearted souls, too. Kurt and Gene had invited us to dinner on Tuesday night. "Wasn't that a great gift someone laid on the Head Start program," Gene said as soon as we walked through the back door with our offering of chilled champagne. "Yes, wasn't it?" I deadpanned. "Ah, hah!" Kurt grinned triumphantly. "Guilty! Just like I told you, Gene!" "That was very generous of you guys," Gene smiled. "$100,000 is great. Those kids are gonna be so far ahead of the curve with computer experience as well as numbers, letters, etc. when they start real school." "Too bad we don't have more folks in other cities who see the future in kids like you two do," Kurt added. We remained silent. "Oh, right!" Gene laughed. "Anonymous gift. No one's supposed to know." We had to chuckle at that. "Just keep it under your hat," Dave insisted. "And that was so good of you to keep the money in queer pockets," Kurt said. "This kind of advertising for Nick's computer store can't be bought. Way to go!" "You going to Jack's graduation at the end of the month?" Kurt asked, changing the subject suddenly. We'd received the invitation nearly a month ago. I'd completely forgotten about it, but I had put it on our engagement calendar. "Yes, we're going. Did you get invited, too?" I boldly pried. "Sure. He and Jeremy have asked us," Kurt smiled shyly. "Been fuckin' with them, too?" Dave laughed. Kurt blushed crimson. "Speaking of fuckin' everything with pants on (or should I say off), what can you tell us about Christian from the football team?" Dave asked, hitting them like a bolt out of the blue. "How'd you know about him?" Gene blustered. "We have friends in low places who tell us things," Dave replied. "Unlike some others who shall remain nameless, but haven't SHARED this treasure with us," I glared, but with a smile. "Uh, well, it was only once," Kurt admitted. "But, we do remember him, well." "Yeah, he can fuck forever and never goes soft after cumming," Gene added. "Dex is looking for a man to share his life with, or he's gonna re-up. What do you think of introducing the two of them?" Dave finally came to the point of the questions. "We understand Christian's quite a stud and loves to top. You know how much Dex loves to bottom." They nodded their heads vigorously and smiled. "Well, you've enjoyed the bedroom antics of both. Do you think they're compatible beyond the obvious sexual meshing?" "Well, they're both really nice guys, sensitive to the needs of others, but right now, I'd have to say that Christian's a slut," Gene said. "He's slept with nearly every guy on the team. But, he's not a total top. There's a rumor going around that one of the really hunky linebackers banged his ass real good. He's definitely into muscle, which Dex has in abundance." "Dex isn't exactly Polly Pureheart in the number of sexual partners department," Dave noted. "He has more than a few notches in his bedpost, too." "You never know," Kurt allowed. "They may want to fuck around with others all the time. Monogamy probably isn't a word they would use to describe themselves, even if they did have a boyfriend." "Chuck and Randy are going to talk to him about Dex to see if he's interested," I revealed. "It seems evident that Christian is looking for someone very special, or he's a major slut who will never settle down and will always be looking for the next round, tight ass to fuck." "Opinions?" Dave asked. "The former," Kurt decided after a moment's reflection. "He's too nice a guy to be so jaded that he'd only be in it for the next conquest." Gene agreed. Being that it was a "school night," we ended the evening early. Kurt and Gene still needed their rest, despite their young ages. However, they did extract a rain check from us for a future roll in the hay. When we got home, the phone recorder had three messages. The first one was from Dex, wondering if we'd had any success pimping for him. The second was from the coaches saying that Christian sounded interested in Dex. So, Dave sent three pictures of Dex to them via the computer from our digital camera. One was a scandalous picture of Dex's bare ass. That would get Christian's attention like nothing else could. The third call was from Jeremy and Jack, asking if we would be attending Jack's graduation. They had only so many tickets for friends and relatives, Jack had said. I scribbled notes to myself to call Dex and Jack tomorrow with good news. I found Dave upstairs, sitting in front of his computer going through all the pictures we'd taken of Dex. He flipped through them again when I got there. "He's such a hot man. So butch looking, so masculine. And that ass! DAMN! Christian's a madman if he doesn't snap this guy up immediately," he sighed, adjusting his big dick in his Levis. "Yeah, he does it for me, too," I grinned down at Dave, my hard dick rubbing against his shoulder. I quickly popped the rivet buttons open in my pants and pulled my hard dick out. The thick, blunt end tapped his left cheek, leaving a clear trail of precum. He turned, opened his mouth, and sucked me in deeply. I didn't need the inspiration, but I couldn't help but look at Dex's naked ass, spread before me on the monitor. Instantly, I recalled how good my dick felt in his milking ass, how I loved fucking him doggie style, and cumming hard in his butt. But, the images were too real, the memories too vivid, and Dave's cocksucking skills too polished. "I'm gonna cum!" I warned him. "Better stop!" I groaned. But, Dave would have nothing of it. He wanted to taste my sperm and now was a good time to do that. He pressed his nose against my abs and swallowed my throbbing dick. "FUCK!" I bellowed. Dave pulled off fast, holding the bloated tip between his lips and sucking hard. I blasted one creamy rope of spooge after another into his warm mouth. I held on to his shoulders to maintain my balance as more semen sped from my boiling nuts to his thirsty face. He held on to my hard butt cheeks to help me remain upright and to push more of my spasming dick into his sucking maw. "Nice," he finally smiled up at me when I pulled away. "Always tastes good." "I didn't think I'd cum so fast, but with Dex as additional, uh, inspiration, I couldn't stop myself." Dave turned and looked at the computer. "Yeah, that's one awesome ass," he agreed. "But, yours is better," he leered. "You'll have to prove that," I smiled back. Rapidly, he turned off the computer and ushered me back downstairs to our bedroom. "Let me undress you and make love to you, Mike," he whispered in my ear. "I need to do some reclaiming." "So do I," I agreed, pulling his shirt off over his head. "I'll do the rest," Dave instructed. "You just enjoy." With my clothes finally off and most of my body kissed, licked, and sucked on at least once, Dave lowered me to the bed. We lay face-to-face, kissing and running hands over various erogenous zones. Soon, his hard dick had burrowed between my legs and under my nuts. My legs automatically lifted and wrapped around his narrow waist. He kissed me gently and told me how much he loved me. I returned the words. He kissed his way down my torso, stopping for a moment at each erect nipple, then, continued south until his lips were munching on my pubic hair and my hard dick was securely plugged into his throat. He released my jerking member and hummed on my heavy nuts. Instinctively, I pulled my legs higher. He smiled and zeroed in on my ass, hitting my winking pucker with his wet tongue. Again, he moved up my body, his huge horsedick trying to gain entrance through my back door. "A little lube will help," he smiled down at me. "But, I know how much you love to be possessed, so you'll be getting the full treatment. Roll over on to your stomach," he directed. As I rolled, he reached for the lube in the drawer of the nightstand. Retrieving it, he kissed my round ass, pushing his face between my butt globes and licking at my butthole again. I raised my butt higher to meet his invading lingual digit. "Best ass, anywhere," he murmured. Pushing lube through my eager sphincter with two fingers, he hit my prostate hard. "Damn! That feels good," I purred. "Bet this feels better," he agreed, pressing the blunt, leaking tip of his big dick against my pucker. The flared head popped through the tight, ring collar, followed by several thick inches. "Fuck! That's good!" My butt muscles chewed on the invader, massaging and milking every new inch. "Gawd! You're big!" I moaned, but continued pushing back into the invader. Finally, his kinky pubic hair brushed against my tender, gaping, filled butthole. He settled on to my back and kissed the back of my neck. His hips rested tightly against my round, muscular ass. "I want this to last, Mike," Dave whispered. "Try not to milk me. Just enjoy the ride," he urged. "I'll do my best. But, when a dick this big is fuckin' me, I gotta play with it," I smiled over my shoulder. He pushed himself up, leaving his dick deeply buried in my ass. With his arms extended, he began a slow series of push-ups, letting his hips contain all the motion. His arms were locked, so the only contact we had was his horsedick slowly fucking my eager ass. I tried not to push back into each thrust, but I wasn't always successful. He felt so damned good in my ass. Dave shuddered above me, holding as motionless as he could. "Don't move," he begged. "I'll cum!" I did my best not to munch on his dick with my hungry ass. "I want this to last a little longer," he said, kissing me on the back of my neck, again. "Besides, the longer I hold off, the more cum I shoot up your tight ass!" he giggled. "What a sweet talker!" I grinned over my shoulder. "But, if you don't cum soon, I'll be shooting into the sheets. You have no idea how often you're hitting my prostate and how good it feels. I could easily cum just by you fuckin' my joy button." He returned to his modified push-up position, long-dicking my ass. But, we both knew it wouldn't last. His pace had quickened, my butt more urgently pushed back into each thrust, and our breathing quickly became ragged and labored. He shuddered again. "I can't fuckin' stop," he groaned. He collapsed on to my back and power-fucked me hard. His fingers curled under my shoulders and pulled me back into each thrust. Instead of fucking into me, he was now high on my ass and fucking down. That's a sure recipe for a hard, sudden climax. "Breed me, Dave!" I hungrily begged. "Fill me up!" "FUCK!" he shouted, followed by many unintelligible words. But, his hips and heavy dick knew what to do. With staccato jabs, he drilled and filled my butthole. I could feel it splash and spray warmly into me. Each new climax wave brought more babbling and another deep thrust into me. Thankfully, he was so deep inside me that he was only modestly rubbing his thick hose against my prostate. If he'd been long-dicking me, I'd have cum for sure. I grabbed his butt with both hands and pulled him harder into me. He flexed, fucked, and sprayed more jizz up my ass. I couldn't believe how easily I was taking this horsedick up my ass. With a final lunge, Dave rested on my back, occasional echoes of climax waves shaking him with decreasing frequency. I wanted him to stay there, so I relaxed my ass muscles, careful not to massage his thick dick anymore. He kissed me tenderly about the neck, ears, and shoulders. "Best ass, anywhere!" Comments to gymhunk@msn.com