Date: Fri, 12 Jul 2019 02:42:23 +0000 From: Simon Mohr Subject: David's Contribution: Andrew and Eric-Chapter 3 This story is a work of complete fiction. Any resemblance of characters to real persons and reality is a coincidence. This story eventually includes descriptions of sex between adult males. If you are a minor, if this material is illegal where you live, or if this material offends you, please don't read it. Please donate to Nifty. Find the donation button on the Nifty web site to help you to pay your share of their expenses to provide these entertaining stories for you. All rights reserved. David's Contribution: Andrew and Eric-Chapter 3 The two men awoke the next morning in the same room, the same bed. Eric was the first awake as he had predicted for himself...his eyes lit on Andrew's relaxed smile, tousled hair, easy breathing, clear skin. Eric was tempted to kiss Andrew awake, then thought better of it. He didn't know a lot about this guy yet and wasn't sure if he liked leaving la-la-land by himself or being wakened. Eric gently slipped out of bed, into the bathroom and ordered coffee and breakfast fixings to be delivered from the cafe next door. He did his morning ablutions, brushed his teeth and slipped back into bed to see Andrew's eyes open, then fix on his face. "Where did you go?" "Ordered some breakfast for my boyfriend and me." "Didn't know you had one of those. Tell me his name and I'll go hurt him." "Nope, it's a secret." "Make you a deal," said Andrew. "If you agree, we'll make it official and public. We are a couple. Only our clothes are in the closet now, not us. PR runs some people's lives, not ours, OK?" "Bossy little shit, aren't you? Just kidding, I agree." Andrew reached for Eric and they got down to business for a few minutes until a knock at the door made them jump out of bed and into their robes. Eric answered the door and the delivery guy, about 55 years old, tired looking, brought in the food and drink. Eric reached into his pocket and paid him and gave him a tip as well. "Thank you for the delivery," said Eric. "Enjoy your day." Andrew and Eric felt more alive, friskier after breakfast. They decided it would be a good time to touch each other. By the time they were through there wasn't much of either guy that hadn't been explored and loved...a lot. They showered together and dressed. They had the day 'off' and walked a block or two down Hollywood Boulevard, followed discreetly by a couple of black Suburban vans behind them and a couple of burly women a few steps behind them. Andrew guided Eric into a bank building and sat with Eric in the lobby. "The Trust will require me to have you sign loads of documents eventually that say that all of your money is yours and all of my money is mine if, God forbid, we part. In practice, you must allow me to pamper you outrageously just because I can, and I want to. I am setting up a Trust called the Eric Nelson Trust funded with a billion dollars capital. The increase in that capital and any dividends are yours to spend on anything you like for as long as you live. When you die, the capital will go back to the Schuyler Trust." "The reason we are sitting in this bank, the Hollywood branch of the Schuyler Bank, is because my dad owns it and it will be mine one day. The paperwork is already done for the Eric Nelson Trust and all you need to do is sign it and we'll notarize it." They walked into the administrative end of the building, the secretary stood and welcomed Andrew to 'his bank in Hollywood' and smiled and shook Eric's hand. Eric saw Andrews father's portrait on the wall, labelled as owner of the bank. "Your paperwork is ready, Mr. Lodge-Jones and Mr. Nelson. Please come in. The Manager has had all of us working to prepare for this meeting. I am a Notary Public and will notarize the documents." In a daze, Eric signed paper after paper, showed his driver's license from Oregon, received a notarized copy of the shortest document and a paper listing the web site and passwords to access the other documents. He was handed a large manila envelope, firmly sealed. Inside, among other things, sat a new wallet which Andrew said was RFID proof to prevent thief access to his new credit card information. Andrew handed him a small gold bracelet with a tiny bump in it and told him that security could find and follow him as long as he had it on his person. By that time, it was nearly lunch time. Andrew tapped his own bracelet twice and the Suburban vans caught up, collected them, and were driven to the Bel-Air hotel for lunch. They registered into the Schuyler suite and ordered room service. Andrew told Eric he'd send footmen to the motel to check them out and collect their belongings. "Nah... I liked looking out the windows and watching the naked men swim in the pool. I'll stay there." Andrew's eyebrows rose. "What if I want to stay here in the lap of inexpressible luxury?" "You can't. You have to stay with me now because we're boyfriends and your job is to make love with me wherever I am and since I'll be there, you'll have to be there too." Eric continued. "But you can't look at the naked men in the pool. You can only look at me because I'm your boyfriend." "This is already looking like it might be complicated," said Andrew. Let me sum this up and see if I have it right. "You have fun. I have to work at making love to you, but I can't look at the naked guys." "That sounds about right," said Eric firmly. "Give me a minute, here," Andrew stretched lazily putting his feet into Eric's lap. "What if we spent time here during the day fucking and evenings and nights at the motel fucking AND looking at the naked men in the pool?" "That might work. We could try it and see. By the way, what's in the manila envelope?" "Try opening it and see." "Sounds like a plan." Three very high-end premium credit cards along with an application for a passport fell out of the envelope along with the wallet and some papers. A note addressed to Mr. Eric Nelson asked him to have a package retrieved from the Bel-Air reception desk at his convenience. In addition, a checkbook on a new Schuyler bank account for Mr. Eric Nelson along with two signature cards and an envelope to mail them to the bank fell out. The envelope had, in pen, the number 4 printed in the lower left-hand corner in large print. "There's ten million USD in your credit lines already," announced Andrew, "and more will dump into your checking and savings accounts and if you want, some or all can be reinvested into your trust equities. You won't be able to spend all the money I plan to give you. At ten percent per year, the income should be one hundred million USD in a good year." The package once retrieved contained an iPad Pro with tons of memory, cell-phone access, Wi-Fi, and a lot of apps already on it. Custom altered by the IT crew at Schuyler Traders, it had USB ports and Thunderbolt and a 3.5 mm jack for headphones, Bluetooth and other good things. The spreadsheet monitored each equity he owned now and the total balance in his bank accounts at Schuyler and his net worth updated second by second from a satellite receiver in the device from a server in New York at Schuyler Traders using the new wholly owned and operated low orbit satellites serving the Traders, their customers, and the family around the glove. Andrew wriggled his feet in Eric's lap again. "Our next family project, unrelated to art, will consist of under ocean, under sea-floor mining. Our geologists have identified deposits of rare earth elements. We will be building a very large floating island in international waters three hundred miles off Angola in the south Atlantic ocean which will include an airport." "The military is already warning other nations away from the area using national security as the reason. It's true, since China has decided to play games with their near monopoly on those elements used in electronic devices. Not to blame them particularly since we've been arbitrary at best with China vis-a-vis tariffs." Andrew went on, "We also plan administration buildings, living quarters for workers, storage and supply facilities, defense installations, and eco-friendly mining units below the island reaching to the sea floor and below." "The power for the island will be supplied by Alain industries in the form of one of their fusion reactors which are, as you may have read, non-polluting. Alain has perfected the process of converting heat from the reactor to produce energy that can be stored and used to drive some needed chemical reactions." Eric, intrigued but just a little bored with the details, took one of Andrew's bare feet and brought a clean toe to his lips and kissed the top of Andrew's foot. He slid to the floor and kneeling, scooted along Andrew's leg, kissing 'up' the leg until he was within striking distance of a large, swelling cock. The head then somehow slid into Eric's mouth and Andrew felt the rush of sensation, of intense pleasure as Eric stimulated him. Andrew's brain told his body to brace himself for action and his eyes closed and his body stiffened for a second, then he relaxed telling himself to enjoy the moment. Eric rose, picked Andrew up as if to carry him over a threshold, and carried him to the king bed in the suite. He sat Andrew down and told him to remove every stitch of clothes. Eric removed his own clothes and once naked, mounted Andrew and took Andrew's ass, the same wonderful ass that Andrew had told him was now his to own, watching into Andrew's eyes carefully to make absolutely certain that Andrew was comfortable and having the time of his life. Andrew drew Eric up to his face and they began to kiss deeply. It was a loving dance of tongues, an exploration of texture, a marriage of fluids and tastes, licking each other's lips. After both men ejaculated, Eric removed and knotted his condom, flushed it. Back in bed, Eric's cock then made its way to Andrews mouth. Andrew took Eric's cock into his mouth and licked it clean, enjoying the fresh cum taste still present. Eric licked Andrew's cum off his abdomen and swallowed it. They took a brief nap then and when they awoke, they showered together. The mid-day sun was getting very warm in southern California and they made their way to the Bel-Air pool to share a cabana reserved for their suite and enjoyed a massage and a swim in the huge pool. Many pairs of very famous eyes, both male and female, followed their progress down the side of the pool. Later that afternoon, they took a town car to the motel in Hollywood and after fooling around a little, spent some time out by that pool watching naked guys. The security guys, close by, got naked and watched the guys in the pool for different reasons, but enjoyed the rays just as much. Neither Andrew nor Eric wanted another man to join them; no man they saw attracted them like each other. Andrew and Eric, again with security, went to the Federal Building in LA the next business day along with Eric's birth certificate flown from Oregon the day before by Schuyler jet (Raspberry) and his Oregon driver's license. At the Passport office they applied for an urgent passport, paid their fee, turned in the application and received the passport the same day. That afternoon, late in the day, both men checked out of both hotels. Footmen drove the Suburban vans to a local Schuyler security lot. Andrew, Eric, and the women security agents boarded Sweet Pea at Burbank airport. They flew to Portland, OR to meet Eric's mother. The phone rang at the cafe the day before and Eric's mom had answered. "Mom, I met a guy. His name is Andrew and we're coming to meet you tomorrow after work. He offered to bring supper to the house since you will work tomorrow." "No, his mom replied, "I have the day off tomorrow. Kathy is going to work for me all day. I'll make supper. Will 6 pm be ok? When do you get here?" "I don't know for sure yet, mom. I'll call you along the way when I know." "I can't wait to meet him, Eric. Drive safe!" "We're flying up in his private jet, mom. There will be 4 of us; is that OK food-wise?" "Oh, sure Eric." A puzzled mom heard that, but didn't really think to process the statement, 'private jet'. Instead her mind went to a menu for a future son-in-law. She thought of what they might have to eat. I've got some nice potatoes, Russets, still firm, to bake and 6 ears of corn on the cob. If I can throw a salad together, I've got some raspberry vinaigrette in the fridge. I could bake some chocolate chip cookies for dessert. Everybody likes those, especially with pecan chips thrown in. 'Private jet'! That's an expensive rental, she thought. Her mind jumped back to what Eric had said. Was the new boyfriend a spendthrift? She hoped not. She had trained Eric to stick to a budget and Lord knows she herself had been required to live on a tight income for a long, long time. Where was that recipe for cookies? She'd better double check the corn when she got home and make sure there was enough salad dressing in the bottle and check the lettuce and tomatoes to see if they were still in good shape. She could drop by Fred Meyers and get lemons for fresh lemonade too. 'Four people?' What was that about? She couldn't help but wonder why two people had expanded to four but decided all would become clear when the time came. The house was picked up, swept, vacuumed, and the table set for 5 people when the men arrived the next afternoon. The house smelled good like only baking cookies can accomplish. She had her Sabbath dress on, had showered and brushed her teeth, and felt ready to take on the world. She looked out the window for the tenth time that afternoon, saw a black Lincoln town car gliding to a stop out in front, and Eric holding hands with a slightly taller, handsome well-dressed man about his age. They emerged from the town car and came up the sidewalk followed by two tall, burly, uniformed women coming up the side walk. The women looked for all the world like guards or something, she thought briefly. There was a knock at the door, and it opened. "I'm home mom, company's here." A whirlwind of introductions, a hug for Eric. She had decided that she should offer to hug his friend too. She held out her arms and he moved easily into her outstretched arms and hugged her back. "Mom, I want you to meet my guy, Andrew Lodge-Miller, of New York. We are in the process of falling in love and would like to cement that. These two ladies are security agents. Lisa Taylor and Laray Fortin of New York and Connecticut are our guests today. They work for the Schuyler Trust in New York." "Andrew has been looking for a life companion and gave me the 'job' after the interview in California." Eric's mom had more questions than answers at that point but decided they might wait. "May I offer all of you some fresh lemonade or water? We don't have any alcohol in the house." They all opted for lemonade. "You must be hungry after your trip. Supper should be ready in about 15 minutes. Please sit and be comfortable." "We've been sitting for the last few hours, mom. Any chance I could take us outside to see the garden?" "Sure, of course. I need to pick a little lettuce for our salad too." The mini-harvest and tour of the vegetable garden accomplished, they went back inside and sat down to eat. Eric said, "Let us pray. Dear God, thank you for my new family, a safe flight, and for this food. Please bless the hands that prepared it. Amen." There was an awkward silence for a moment. Eric and his mom had closed their eyes and put their hands together in some kind of a ritual, thought Andrew. He had never heard a prayer before. Then Eric and his mom picked up their forks and knives. The food was served and eaten with appreciation for the wonderful tastes and textures of the simple meal, unprocessed food, plant-based, fresh. The cookies were received well, and no one left the table hungry. Eric's mom showed everyone to their rooms. She had dithered about Andrew and Eric sharing a room, then decided that separate beds prior to a commitment would be proper in her house at least. She showed the guards a separate room with two queen beds. Andrew and Eric sat in the living room with Eric's mom and talked. "What kind of work do you do, Andrew?" The interrogation had begun, thought Eric. His mom, however, was just wanting to get to know Andrew and engage in conversation with him. She did that every day at the cafe and learned a lot about people by talking with them. She was a decent judge of humanity. If a customer was depressed or stupid or intelligent or funny or a dreamer or a lover or some combination of multiple factors, she'd ferret it out in two minutes or name wasn't Lucy Nelson. "I don't work now, Mrs. Nelson. My family owns a Trust based in Pennsylvania. We own art and gems and lend the art objects, usually paintings, to museums to display and store the rest. My mom owns a separate company called Alain industries which is involved in oil and nuclear fusion power plants out of Texas." "I've been idle since finishing my education and want to establish a family of my own. I'd like to tell you that my search is over if Eric will have me. We haven't talked about children yet, but we will. There are ways now to have our own genetic baby incubated in a surrogate mother. It's not free, of course, but it has been done successfully. "Would you object to grandchildren?" Tears came to Lucy's eyes briefly, then she wondered where the money would come from but not aloud. "I'm not sure we could afford that, Andrew." Eric, not sure how to inform his mom about Andrew's finances, decided that he certainly could tell her about his own. He glanced at Andrew and winked. "We'll manage mom. I do have a question for you though. How long do you intend to work at the cafe? Do you want to work for a while longer?" "I hadn't really thought I had any choice, son. You've been a big help, but the house payments keep coming and we have to eat." "What is the remaining balance on the house, mom?" "Do you want to discuss our finances in front of Andrew, dear?" "Mom, he's family now." "The payoff balance on the mortgage is $34,000 plus or minus. Why do you ask?" "Knowing you, you'll want to pay 10% tithe and a 5% thank you offering on any check that you get, so to pay that mortgage off and save the interest payments, I'm going to write you a check for $43,000 and you can pay it off. There will be a bit left over. If you want to work for a while, you now have more of a choice." Andrew hadn't met anyone beside the employees at Schuyler who faced these kinds of odds. No mom of his beloved was going to go without choices in this world. Later that night after Eric was sleeping beside him (in the same bed, not the other bed) he texted the Trust and asked them to transfer 500K USD to one Lucy Nelson of Portland, mother of Eric, gave them the address, asked them to find out her bank and account number no matter the expense and wire it to her immediately from Schuyler bank. The next morning dawned cloudy but warm. Breakfast was a complicated hot corn meal mush with sliced almonds, vanilla, brown sugar, chopped dates, raisins and slivered dry coconut and some butter all cooked together and seasoned with a tiny bit of salt. Lucy served orange juice to drink and apologized for the lack of coffee. "We've got herbal tea. Stash Meyer Lemon and a Tazo Wild Sweet Orange, your choice." Just before breakfast, Andrew asked Eric to ask his mom to check her checking account without mentioning Andrew in the process after breakfast was over. Eric was a little mystified, but did it. "Mom, is there enough money in your checking account to buy me a beater car?" "I'll check, dear." It was a moment that imprinted itself on Andrew and Eric's brain when Eric's mom saw the new balance. Mouth open, surprise, hope, doubt, a 'no-way' look on her face, then a yell that neighbors might have heard a few blocks away. "This has to be the biggest mistake. Look at this! I don't believe it. I'd better call the bank and tell Rose they made a mistake. Nobody owes me that much money and I certainly didn't earn it at my hourly wage." Lucy called and talked to Rose at the bank, was assured that the wire had come in during the night and was directed properly to her account. Lucy hung up and started to weep. Eric caught on. "Mom," he said, "I think Andrew has a confession to make." "I'm sorry," said Andrew, "that this backfired a little. I must ask you to forgive me for the way that went down, but I cannot apologize for the dowry. In Europe during the time that many of our paintings were made, the custom was to settle land or money or an income on the family as a gesture of good will or a living, but not as a payment. Eric knows... and I know... and you know, that Eric cannot be bought or purchased. He is priceless." "I have more money than many countries and my family is the richest on the planet. I will inherit both the Schuyler Trust and Alain industries when my parents pass on one day. That's why our security types are with us. Eric and I will want you to visit us frequently and have access to that fortune so our children, if they happen, can enjoy you too." "I'm going to be inflexible about this, though. My mother-in-law cannot worry about money if I can help it." Andrew saw some lingering doubt in Lucy's eyes. "If Eric knows you, you will pay tithe and offering on the wired amount. The food bank or charity that is set up with that gift should do well, and we'll set up a Trust for you when that runs out. I love your son. He has access to the fortune and the jets and the Schuyler suites in New York and because you are family, you do too." "Thank you for your kind generosity, Andrew." "You are most welcome, Lucy." The two men and their security left that morning from Hillsboro Executive airport on Sweet Pea, making good time to Teterboro assisted by the eastbound jet stream winds. Lucy swept into the cafe the next day and began to take orders for breakfast. She ferried eggs and waffles and pancakes and ham and bacon and juice and coffee and breakfast burritos to customers, talked to all of them. At noon, she went down to the bank and handed Rose a check to pay off the mortgage. Rose, astonished, came around the counter and gave Lucy a hug. They had gone to elementary and high school together and were more like sisters than friends. "This must be related to that call you gave me about the wire. I am so happy for you! Are you going to keep working?" "I think so for now. Not sure what I'd do with myself if I wasn't hoisting pancakes across the room on five plates in one hand. It's my destiny or something." "How is Eric? Have you seen him?" Rose asked. She knew, as did the entire town by then, that Eric had brought a friend home to meet Lucy. "He met a real nice boy who cares for him very deeply," said Lucy, avoiding details for the moment. She had a vision, however, of the relative low chance of keeping those details to herself for any long length of time. "They flew off to New York to meet his parents." Rose noted that as a talking point with the next person she met and figured the information would reach everyone in town save the sickest of the shut-ins... in about five seconds. She thought better of it and asked Lucy if she should mention it to anyone. Lucy caught her drift and smiled. "You know this town, Rose. Details are what keeps their hopes up and gives them the drama this place needs. I'd rather them hear it from you, my dear friend, than from someone I don't know." Sweet Pea was met at Teterboro by a limousine with Schuyler livery. The luggage was transferred, the security detail and short motorcade assembled. Andrew and Eric walked down the steps to the limousine and got in. Eric had never been to Manhattan and Andrew became his tour guide. He explained the history of the Schuyler family and fortune briefly and the museum the family now called the Schuyler Campus. Eric was out of his element. Big city versus smaller city. People everywhere versus no crowds. Subways versus Tri-Met on ground transit. Dirty city versus clean city. Keep your eyes down and straight ahead versus look all you want at anything you want to look at. He concentrated on breathing steadily and focusing on Andrew's narrative, trying to remember each point, anxious to please. Andrew noticed Eric wasn't himself, a little foggy. "When did you eat last?" "Breakfast, I think." "I am so sorry...the plan was full of food. I forgot to ask the flight attendant for a meal. I'm so anxious about pleasing you and wanting you to like the plane I forgot all about the basics." Andrew picked up the car telephone and punched in a number. "Please have a lunch ready in Salon A when we arrive. I'm bringing my VIP guy to visit the Campus and meet my parents and I forgot to feed him on the plane. He is a vegetarian, no processed foods, all plant-based. Just potatoes and veggies and salads and dessert. Yes, eggs, dairy are OK as far as I know. No meat or alcohol please. I'll have the same until we can figure all that out. Thank you." A half hour later they were at the Schuyler Campus. Eric gasped at the park and the huge building. They pulled up to the front door and a full line-up of servants from the Housekeeper to the footmen to the maids to the maintenance people all in uniform greeted them outside the door. Eric got to shake hands with a lot of them. He smiled and said, "How do you do?" to most. Andrew brought him inside. "The tour starts after lunch... delayed lunch thanks to me." "Beat yourself up if you want, but I've never starved, bud. Yet." In the Salon, they immediately seated by the footmen and a wonderful lunch served. "Do you want a suite to yourself or would you like to share mine?" "Can I peek at one or try yours for a night before I answer that?" "OK. Let's tour the joint." So they toured all the floors, the park, the basement with its thousands of priceless art objects, the service departments, the auxiliary service building, the garage facilities, the security facilities including the titanium fencing, the deep transparent ceramic fencing and gates, the drones, the park with its fountains, easily an hour and a half of touring. "Let's nap for an hour before we have to get up and freshen up for the folks, not that they care whether I'm fresh or not, it seems. They love me, but don't harp on my appearance. I doubt they will judge you at all, least of all on how you look or comb your hair." The men set an alarm by asking Andrew's footman to wake them at the desired hour, then got naked and were soon doing their duty for King and country quite happily. They didn't nap more than five minutes when the footman knocked and was admitted. After getting ready, they both went down the hall to the office and knocked. A footman ushered them through very tall titanium doors covered with rosewood into an inner office where a distinguished older gentleman and a dark-complexioned woman dressed very well in a tailored suit stood to meet them. "Isaac and Valentine Lodge-Miller, I want to introduce Eric Nelson to you. He's my main squeeze from Portland, OR. Eric please meet my parents, who will try hard not to dissect you today." Andrews was in fine form. "How do you do?" Eric added. "Please call me Eric" Valentine looked Eric over; he apparently passed the first glance or two. Isaac just asked, "Eric, did you know my son is gay?" He held his hand up to Andrew who had turned a bright shade of purple just in time to hear Eric's response. "So that explains the shifty look in his eyes? I just knew there was something he wasn't coming clean about, so to speak. He really is a piece of work, isn't he? You should have mentioned it, Andrew... "You promised to be transparent and now this? You just never know what's going to pop out of the closet, I guess." Isaac and Valentine burst out laughing. "I didn't tell him I preferred guys either. I'm sure we'll be able to work it out, said Eric." "Do you have family on the West Coast, Eric?" asked Valentine, still giggling a little. "My dad is dead. My mom is a waitress in a cafe in Portland, Oregon. She's a good mom but then I'm the only sib so she doesn't have to divide her time." "You are going to share an immense fortune with Andrew someday when Valentine and I pass on," offered Isaac. "Are you OK with that?" "My turn to be transparent. I answered an ad from this guy that offered a good job with big pay. The money was of interest to me and I scheduled an interview. I grew to care for Andrew before I knew he had money. He can vouch for that." "I was fine all my life living under the poverty line and I'd be fine without a lot of money, but I can't say I don't like money or what it can do for people. If it comes to taking or leaving the money, all else equal I'd choose the money because it eases things, but I've been trained to believe that happiness is a choice, not an object or a thing." The answer must have satisfied Isaac and Valentine. They welcomed Eric warmly and gave him free run of the place, offered to further educate him in Art or Finance, his choice. He chose Art to pursue and Isaac felt he had gained another son.