Date: Mon, 13 May 2019 04:54:18 +0000 From: Simon Mohr Subject: This One Might Be Different: Different-Chapter 5 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. This One Might Be Different: Different-Chapter 5 I guess the only difference that Chris ever noticed at our house was that our bed was replaced with a bigger king size and that all three of his dads slept in there at night. He still learned his colors and numbers and stuff, but his love as a kid was for horses and the guy that taught him how to communicate with his horses. His grandpa Albert died when Chris was 12 and his grief led him to bond with Charley. Charley of the cowboy hat, Charley that gave him a cowboy hat and boots that fit him, Charley that talked a little funny from Texas. It wasn't a surprise to any of the three of us that Chris began to affect a little Texas twang and the occasional Texas aphorism. Chris at 14 began to notice girls. Greg having had the only experience with girls at all took on The Talk at some point, after which we noticed that Chris asked some pointed questions at breakfast sometimes and remained locked in his bathroom for rather longer periods of time than one might expect for brushing of his molars. Greg told us that Chris had asked why he didn't have a mom and was a little surprised to find that he did. Have one. Chris had also wanted to know why we slept in the same bed and kissed each other and grabbed each other's bottoms sometimes. He just wanted more information. He didn't appear to have any feelings one way or the other about it. We lived on a ranch and Chris had stared with fascination when the bull took on his cows and even exclaimed how big the bull's dick was. Not unusual. There came the day when Chris figured out that everyone on the ranch, almost preferred other guys. Charley explained to him that the rest of the world, most of it, was different. As I understood the conversation later, Charley told Chris that most of the world was made up of guys that preferred women, some of the world had guys that preferred both and some that preferred men. He also mentioned that there were some women who preferred women. I guess Chris had heard enough snippets of conversation about his mom over time so that something clicked in his head at that point. "Charley, does my biological mom love women?" "Chris, I think that would be a great question for Greg. Since Greg is your biological dad, he would know that answer." Chris at 16 was a good kid, smart as a whip, outgoing, friendly, blue eyes, brown hair, good muscles from hard work on the ranch, very interested in quantum computing, more interested in the machines themselves, and lived nowhere close to any heterosexual girl. Greg, Charley, and I talked about the best environment for Chris going forward. The choices were to do nothing, to find a school elsewhere that was co-ed, perhaps an elite school in Manhattan (the mention of which brought Greg to tears), an elite school in Texas, say San Antonio or Dallas (the mention of which brought a gleam to Charley's eye) or a similar school in Portland or Seattle. None of us dads wanted him to be a long way away, but we were reminded that we did have access to a private jet. If that access disappeared, we had enough money to buy one and maintain it. We decided to talk to Chris about it and have him give his input. Before that talk happened, a bomb dropped into Charley's lap. A text from his grandfather's attorney in San Antonio asked Charley to call and make an appointment in San Antonio. Charley called. The appointment was made, and Charley flew down with Chris, who hadn't visited Texas yet. Charley kept that appointment while Chris sat in the reception area flirting righteously with the receptionist. Charley listened in shock and astonishment at what the attorney, one Alden Williams, Esq., had to say. "Your grandfather passed away a month ago. Your family didn't know where you were so this news is late in getting to you. The will was read two weeks ago. You have inherited everything he owned. Your family has done well except for the ones that haven't. He was proud of your education and your vocation." "He told me during our frequent conversations over the years that he was concerned that teaching might not support you well and that didn't set well with him because you were his favorite grandkid by far. He felt a little guilty about even having a favorite but that's how the cookie crumbled for him." "You may or may not know that your grandfather was an oil man, not the first in Texas, but one of the more aggressive in business. His estate includes refineries not far from Houston and oil wells all over Oklahoma and Texas. He recently branched out into alternative energy investments and has substantial investments through Alain Industries in wind and solar power in all of the southwestern and midwestern states." "The company was named after his French great-grandfather whose family had settled in Normandy long ago. Alain emigrated to America just prior to World War I." The attorney continued. "Alain had investment and business savvy and an eye to the long term. He learned the oil business and made a fortune fractionating oil for kerosene, diesel, then jet fuels when the time came. He owned major patents for improvement of parts of that process of breaking down a barrel of oil into its constituent fuels and products. His patents are now yours. His wells and refineries are now yours. His investments are now yours, Charley. Your net worth is...Charley? Are you OK?" Charley didn't hear his net worth. He was stretched out on the floor on his back, having had a syncopal episode. His brain had been over-taxed momentarily, had decided that a reboot was in order, lowered his blood pressure quickly and the resultant reduction of blood flow to the brain had resulted in a fainting spell. He had keeled over to the floor, the ideal position resulting from the natural response of the body to a faint. Blood pressure goes up in the supine position (lying down) and blood flow to the brain is restored while the kidneys and other organs begin to be re-perfused properly. The attorney laughed and loosened Charley's tie. "I might have given you the facts a little fast," he mused. Charley awoke on a couch in the attorney's office, lying perfectly still in a quiet room. The attorney had gone out to the reception area to entertain Chris. Charley's first thought was 'where am I' followed by 'why am I on this couch' followed by 'is Chris OK?' followed by 'what just happened' and then his memory traced his last few seconds before things went foggy. Something about Alain Industries...and oil...and it's all yours. Another wave inside his head, kind of a blink of consciousness, happened and he slowly sat up and tested the waters of a seated position. Nothing awful happened, so he stood and grasped the door handle. Chris and the attorney and the receptionist were talking quietly about Riverwalk. The attorney glanced up at Charley with a twinkle in his eye "You decided to join us, after all?" "Yes. I remember something about oil." "We'll talk about it tomorrow. Why don't you and Chris pop off and take a boat ride at Riverwalk and come over to my house for supper. My wife loves to barbecue and she's better at it than I. Here's my address. While Chris swims, we can talk a little. Be sure to bring a swim suit for Chris, OK?" When Charley called Greg and I an hour later, we sat stunned. Until Charley actually got the rest of the details, there weren't any useful questions he could ask or answer. We told him we loved him and to hurry back. Greg groaned, "It's happening again, isn't it?" My spouse(s) are rich and I'm not. I have to say this feels like déjà-vu." "From where I stand," I replied, "You're the rich one. You are the biological father of the kid that I love, and you have two fantastic husbands to love. How many studs can say that? You could make a case for being the richest of us." Charley and Chris arrived in a nice neighborhood in San Antonio that night for supper and a swim. They hadn't packed a swim suit for Chris so wandered into a Target and bought a swim suit for each of them. Charley also picked up a bottle of Pouilly-Fuissé 2014 Domaine J. A. Ferret for his host, who nearly dropped it on seeing the now scarce and popular wine in his hand. After meeting his hostess and enjoying wonderful Texas beef barbecue, Chris went to swim and Charley's education resumed in the attorney's library. "You have the best oil business minds in the world managing Alain Industries. Your grandfather enjoyed the money coming in, but at a certain age realized that younger minds, better technology and computers could improve his bottom line. The world was getting more complex, he wasn't interested in philanthropy, and he wanted to leave as much as he could for you to shepherd in the future." "He was a billionaire. Now you are. Sorry for that stress and responsibility but there's no other way but to put it to you straight." "He didn't care if you were married or not. There's nothing about it in the will. He didn't care who you loved. There's nothing about that in the will either. He hoped you would have a child someday that could inherit the fortune and carry on the business, but there's nothing in the will about that either. There isn't the slightest hint in the will of his trying to control you or anyone else after his death." "As for the rest of the family," he went on, "they are aware that your grandfather's mind was intact when he made the will. I had medical experts examine and certify that his mind was clear when the document was made and made certain that there were notaries and witnesses galore. The process was videotaped. It is as rock solid as a will could ever be." "The Board of Alain Industries is eager to meet you. I think they like their Board positions and salaries. I ought to know. I'm one of them. They will be your friends. They were your grandfather's friends as well as advisors. In some sense, since the company is privately held with no minority stockholders, the Board could be dispensed with." "I would advise you," said his attorney, "with the above bias noted, that the Board members have business, banking and commercial connections that strengthen the company. For instance, Paolo Schuyler-Jones, who is the fund manager for the richest man in the world, Joseph Schuyler, in New York, is on the Board. It is his only Board appointment. He's a very busy man, but his grandfather was great friend of your dad, so the connection happened." Charley looked surprised. "Joseph? The richest man in the world? He acts just a normal guy." Not much surprised Alden Williams, Esq. He'd seen a lot during his years and heard even more. Now here was this elementary education major from the wilds of Oregon who had appeared to inherit a fortune and he knew Joseph Schuyler too?" "How do you know Joseph?" "He comes out to the ranch every few months to relax." "When would you be able to meet with the Board, Charley? Oh, and I meant to ask this earlier, but we got interrupted...how are you related to Chris?" "He's my adopted son. His biological father, Greg, and his lover, Simon Brewster and I are his dads. Simon and I adopted Chris." Alden's eyes dilated, constricted again, and he cleared his throat. "That explains why Chris asked how his dad was in the office. He seems like a nice kid. He was cozying up to the receptionist when I left you in the office." "Yeah, he likes girls and we're going through the hormonal stuff at home right now. At age 16, girls and sex are on his mind every five minutes or so. Problem is, we need to find another environment for him than the ranch. There aren't any girls within miles." "We are thinking of finding a good co-ed boarding school for him, one with good values not too far from the ranch. Paolo has a relative who sent his fathers to a Christian school that changed their lives for the better. Maybe we'll check them out." "We've also heard of one near Seattle located on leased Native American tribal land out of Auburn." "Seattle-Tacoma International Airport is fairly close by as is Boeing Field and we could fly our Gulfstream in and out from our own private airstrip at the ranch anytime and also fly him home anytime." Seeing the look on Alden's face, Charley continued. "No, I don't have those...didn't have those kinds of funds...but one of my partners has a very high net worth, a trust from an uncle." Chris' biological father has a position in an industry making quantum computer parts on the ranch, but didn't inherit what Simon...and now, I did. Chris is our joint kid. We've raised him and love and treasure him and look forward to his future as our own. His biological mom isn't in the picture at the moment, not yet. Chris might change that if he wants to. We'll see." "I can meet with the board anytime. Just let me know when. I can also meet them online to begin. We have extensive broadband connections at the ranch and a conference center with state-of-the-art electronic screens and high-quality audio as well. Paolo Schuyler-Jones can vouch for me personally. I should ask you to note this email address for me. Please have the controller's contact information sent to me and I would appreciate your sending yours and the Chairman's contact information to that address as well. "Thank you for the documents you gave me during this visit. I found the copy of the will and understand the original is at the bank. Is our current banking situation to your liking, Alden? If not, Paolo would probably welcome our business at Schuyler Bank in New York and maybe even add a local branch to serve us here in San Antonio. I'm going to lobby Joseph to allow Paolo to manage my investments. He consistently out-performs the Dow by a significant margin and doesn't charge a fee for friends sometimes. We'll see." "Could you have my investment summary sent to me by email to this address when possible? For now, I would like to keep my investment and financial team as well as my insurance brokers here in San Antonio." "We'll keep the real estate as is for now and review it over time. I'll need your help with that. You've been a good friend to my grandfather. I hope to continue the business and personal relationship with you without change. I will email you a list of all this...don't feel like you have to memorize my every word after drinking that Pouilly-Fuissé tonight." A sigh of relief escaped Alden's lungs. He had limited his practice to a very few, very wealthy clients and at this late date didn't relish losing any. It had been a long day for both. Chris with his unlimited energy climbed out of the pool, changed and they both took a car back to their hotel. San Antonio International Airport (SAT) had a fixed base operation and Charley and Chris were taken by limousine some eight miles north of downtown the next morning at ten o'clock to their Gulfstream 650ER. They were back in Oregon after just under four hours. Greg and Simon met them at the hangar with an ATV and back at the house the questions began. Chris escaped to his room for some private time with a magazine he'd picked up in a newsstand next to the hotel. "OK, Charley, dish up the details, man." "I found out my grandfather gave me his company." There followed a silence in the room. Greg and Simon had flashes of unspoken questions that couldn't be answered, worries that went unvoiced and no little insecurity about their own futures. They wondered if the company would pull Charley away from them and at the same moment how big it was, and would he change from the Charley they knew and loved. Would he still love them and make love to them? Charley stood as if to leave the room, then turned and grinned at both of them. "I feel the need to get naked with my men," he said. Some clarity and warmth infused Greg and Simon then and the homecoming was spectacular. At the close of festivities, marked by noise and certain body fluid emissions, the three lovers lay panting, their sustained muscle activity having caused a temporary lactic acidosis in some muscle tissue. Their lungs were busy fixing the problem by breathing off 'acid' in the form of carbon dioxide." "Breathing rapidly was an effective means of restoring normal acid-base balance to tissue and blood in these circumstances. The body increased the respiratory rate naturally without effort on their part other than breathing. They felt the 'air hunger' which wasn't air hunger at all. They didn't need extra oxygen. They had been gulping air to exercise during sex. They did need to relieve the acidosis, however, and getting rid of carbon dioxide did this quickly. Greg asked it first. "So, what company do you own now?" "The name of the company is Alain Industries. Simon gasped. "It's not nice to tease poor country boys, Charley." "Ok, I'll bite," said Greg. "What the hell do they make?" "Products made from oil," said Charley. "From my own oil wells and refineries in Oklahoma and Texas, apparently...and began to cry. His husbands couldn't remember him crying ever before. "And, and... I'm a fucking billionaire." Now his sobs shook him and his husbands right down to their teeth. "You're a fucker, all right," said Greg. "Pretty good one, if I do say so myself. Want a drink of water? You're losing fluids through your tear ducts. Did someone hurt you down there? Do I need to go down there and re-assemble someone's body or anything?" Charley began to shake, then began to laugh and couldn't stop until Simon started to spank his ass. He stopped laughing and kissed Simon's hand. "You guys do love me, don't you?" "Was there some doubt in your mind? Didja think we would dump your ass for any reason at all? Remember the wedding, Charley. We promised to love, honor, and cherish in sickness and in health, for better or for worse." "Don't know if this is better or worse, but we'll find out together." "Let's go to the kitchen. There might be some ice cream in the freezer." Greg could always eat ice cream. The next few days were crazy for everybody. When queried, Chris selected the school near Auburn, but wanted to visit first. Simon went to see how the clinic fared. Greg had work to do at the quantum plant and Charley moved rapidly to take over his new company. He had a feeling that a power vacuum wasn't a good thing ever. Joseph was delighted to hear from him, happy for his good news, said he would speak with Paolo and said they could discount a good chunk of the fees for 'family' and would. Charley spoke with the controller and became acquainted with her. She didn't hold anything back and was happy to educate him about the cash flows of the company and their goals. He also spoke with the chairman of his Board, gave him a pass for the moment, committed to be at the next Board meeting, and learned more about Board politics, strategic planning, business competitors, and more. He told the chairman that he was satisfied with the company as ran and didn't plan personal involvement for now but reserved the right to discuss new directions from time to time in product lines like alternative energies. Charley introduced himself to his financial advisors, his insurance and investment advisors and flew all of them along with his accountant team to Denver for a several day series of meetings and get-acquainted sessions. All of them were relieved to discover a decent, normal guy like his grandfather had been. There was a central, old-fashioned switchboard at the ranch run by an older gay operator who had worked for ATT in his day. His own grandmother had been a long-distance operator many years ago, his mom worked on telephone equipment, and he loved to answer calls. He was personable and his favorite phrase was "I'll connect you" with an emphasis on the 'nect' in a higher voice like the old movies. James had been thrilled to answer the ad in the Oregonian for an operator. His lover had died recently, and his Social Security wasn't that high, so the extra income and free rent appealed to him. James plugged into a trunk line which had lighted up and answered with "Shady Acres, how may I help you" when a brusque woman's voice demanded to be connected to Greg. James was pretty much unflappable, but something about the combination of demand and the brittle voice bothered him enough to put the kid gloves on. "I'll find him for you. In case we get disconnected, give me your name and number so he can call you right back. I know he works at the electronic factory some days and you know, they won't even let him come to the phone for emergencies there. Horrible place to work if you ask me." James had a method to his madness and was smarter than he sounded. He would frequently use this tactic of appearing to yield, attach himself to the caller's 'side' of things, and obtaining as much information as possible. At the same time, he gave not an inch when it came to other's privacy. After the call ended (he didn't connect it), he called the factory and spoke to Greg. "Weren't you married at one time, Greg? This woman sounded like she knew you and had something personal in mind. Not a happy person. Anyway, here's her name and number." Greg called Janie back at break. She wanted Chris and was prepared to go to court to get him. She said she had attorneys trampling on her door to help. "You can't do that, he's sixteen and has been adopted. Officially. A judge in the State of Oregon made it so." "Yeah, and he's living on a ranch with hundreds of fags. Wonder what the judge would say about that! Is there even a girl in sight of there?" "This call is ended. I'm not going to give you ammunition. Have your lawyers contact mine. Tell your own lover hello." There was a long silence. "She died. I need my family around me." "So, your moneybags died to escape you, huh? How's the drinking going?" "I've been sober for a month now." "Well that's a start. Good for you." Greg was pretty sure sober meant she didn't have enough money to buy liquor. He decided his son wasn't available for ransom. The three men discussed the call and a plan that night. Simon thought they should hire a private investigator to find out everything possible about her, her address, license plate number, friends, enemies, hangouts, AAA attendance if any, job history, finances, fingerprints, anything. Greg wanted to also consult the best attorneys in Portland to plan their strategy. Charley mentioned that Theresa hadn't lost her marbles just yet and that her plans for security were stellar. He wanted to tell her and have a plan for tailing Janie and stopping her before she got anywhere near Chris. He didn't trust Janie on principle and didn't doubt for a second her ability to take what she wanted. Greg guess right that Janie didn't have funds for a lawyer and that her main plan would be to just take him. She would probably ask a burly friend to help her and just come and try to take him. When, he didn't know. He called the deputy Sheriff and Theresa and had a conference. Theresa sat there shaking her head. "I don't think she has any idea of trouble she could get into. Kidnapping is frowned on in Oregon too. Plus, we've a defense or two," she smiled. She gave Greg a list of equipment she needed right away, the deputy smiled, and the game was afoot. Theresa had mentioned that they didn't know what Janie knew about where Chris slept or in what building. A camera at a fixed point well-hidden in a tree by the side of the highway coming into the ranch and another a mile or two before that point were connected by wireless means to a computer with 9 cores on its CPU and 12 threads (read powerful) with 32 gigabytes of RAM memory and a 4 terabyte solid state drive. Fail-safe power for the computer and for the cameras was installed and the system tested. A program which read the front and back of each vehicle's license plate and instantly queried the Sheriff's database of Oregon owners was tested. A back up Idaho and Washington database link was purchased, authorized by court order under the sheriff's authority. If the license wasn't readable or no result was obtained as in the case of a rental car, pictures of the driver and passenger were taken and sent to a national database for nearly instant facial recognition. The system was tested and appeared to work just fine. Chris disappeared the next day. His disappearance was 'reported' to the deputy who had expected it. His room at Theresa's house was comfortable and he had his computer which he used more for fun than anything. Charley visited Theresa's house daily for tutoring and Greg wandered over after work every day. Two or three burly women hung out around the outside of the house, sometimes inside. All were armed with a rubber baton and a Glock 19. Each was an expert in their use. Theresa's cook was delighted to have a new appetite to cook for and so the food was good. A vehicle with Janie's matching license appeared in real-time to James on Tuesday morning next. He relayed the signal to Greg, Theresa and the chief of security for the ranch. The tarp once again slid off the drones in the forest clearing and a message was sent to the web site asking for help. Multiple emails were sent to the sheriff's office and three deputies set out, lights flashing, toward the ranch. After the deputy cars passed a certain point about a mile behind the vehicle, a series of objects rose out of the pavement which were tall, enormously thick metal pillars, hydraulically operated, four inches apart, extending well into the ditches on either side to solid rock, blocking the road so that an Abrams tank would have had to work hard to surmount. Two drones watched the progress of Janie's vehicle which stopped a quarter mile before the ranch. This visit had been planned. A tall husky man and a woman parked by the side of the road and walked toward the ranch. They meandered up to the A-frame house and just walked in. They were a little surprised to find no one there, but marched up to the upstairs bedroom and the man kicked the door in. On the bed was a note... 'gone to Theresa's house next door for a couple of days...Love, Chris. Janie and her friend walked next door, unchallenged, and they stepped inside Theresa's front door. Janie shouted for Chris and he came down. The burly man tied his hands to a rope and they both began to lead Chris down the front sidewalk. That was the last thing 'burly dude' remembered before rubber batons began to beat his head. Janie screamed and for her pains got a rubber gag stuffed into her mouth and with strong straps secured to the back of her head. She sensed rather than saw the flashing lights and began to run, but the deputy sheriff soon caught her, and neither 'burly dude' or Janie saw the outside of a prison for many years.