Jump to content
    Mark Arbour
  • Author
  • 4,533 Words
  • 6,539 Views
  • 4 Comments
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Land Whore - 28. Chapter 28

November 21, 1973


Scott stayed over the past few nights, and it had done Armand a world of good. It's not that they were involved romantically; at least if they were I didn't know it. Besides, Armand was as dry as we were for the next few days. In this case, I think it was because Armand actually had a friend his own age. It had been a while for him, and it was so pleasant to see him bond with someone like he had with Scott, and to see how it made him act like a young guy instead of some Hollywood pinup model.

Yesterday I'd had an unpleasant conversation with Jackie and told her that I planned for Armand to go to school starting in the New Year. The district had agreed to work with him and if he completed this semester, they'd let him graduate. So on January 7, 1974, Armand would go to an American high school. Scott promised to help him through the transition, and that seemed to make everything alright.

“So what are you and Scott doing for Thanksgiving?” I asked Alice.

She sighed. “His parents will probably be at the track all day, so the two of us will probably stay here. I'll make a nice dinner for us. It will be relaxing.”

“Well that sounds absolutely hideous. You're coming with us to the Bay Area.”

“Oh no, we couldn't.”

“You are part of our family. Come on. You will have a good time. Besides, it will be good for Scott.” Appealing to her feelings for her nephew was the clincher.

Scott came rumbling in after school and charged up to Armand's room. I followed him up and knocked on the door. “Scott, you and Alice are coming up to the Bay Area with us for Thanksgiving. You will need to pack up a few things for a few days.”

“I can't go and leave my parents,” he said.

“Yes you can. Besides, your aunt already said you would.”

“It will be fun,” Armand told him.

“I really don't have any nice clothes to wear,” he said sheepishly. I looked at his pants and noticed they were way too short. He was one pimple away from being a total dork.

“We're leaving in 4 hours. Armand, you have three hours to take Scott shopping. You drive,” I said, handing my keys to Scott, “and you buy,” I said, handing my credit card to Armand. Armand grabbed his arm and dragged him off with a big smile. He had great taste in clothes, and he was completely up on all the new styles.

I was in the Thanksgiving spirit. The time to reflect on all the good things I had, and to do nice things for other people. There was one more call to make.

The phone rang at least ten times before a really frustrated Roger answered. “Hey Stef!” he said happily when he heard my voice. It felt so good to get such a nice greeting from him. “You won't believe how much progress we're making. My hard work and your money.” I laughed.

“I have a favor to ask. I need some wine for Thanksgiving dinner.”

“No problem. I saved four bottles of my best Cabernet blend.”

“Good, you can bring it with you when you join us for dinner tomorrow.”

There was silence as he digested that. “I don't know Stef. I treated you like shit and all those people know it.”

“That's crap. We're fine now, are we not?”

“Yeah, we're great.”

“That's all that matters. Anyone gives you shit I will stick up for you. They've all got skeletons in their closets, and I know about all of them.”

He laughed. “Alright Stef. I'll see you there.”

Greg got home a bare 15 minutes before we were supposed to leave in a complete panic. A quick kiss and he breezed right past me. “I'm sorry babe, but I've got to pack and we've got to get going.”

“I already packed for you, and the plane will not leave without us.”

He smiled at me and took me into his arms lovingly. “I love you Stef. You are the best thing that's ever happened to me.” That got him a big smile. He ran upstairs to freshen up, and when he got back downstairs there were four people waiting to head to the plane.

“We're taking our whole family with us,” I said. Alice and Scott looked petrified.

Greg picked up on that and smiled big. “Well that's great. This should be the best Thanksgiving ever!” We piled into the limo. Scott and Alice gawked at it as if they were trying to take a picture in their minds.

I noticed that Scott was looking really good. It's amazing how a new wardrobe could take a dork like him and make him really handsome. “You look good Scott.”

He blushed and grinned. What a cutie. “Thanks. Armand picked everything out for me.”

“I invited Roger to dinner tomorrow too. I hope that's OK?” I said to Greg. It was a little rude to do that in front of the others, because that would prevent him from freaking out. But he just nodded. He knew that Roger wasn't a threat to him.

November 29, 1973

Thanksgiving had been a blast. It was wonderful the way JP, Sam, and Isidore had totally absorbed us into their lives. Scott and Alice seemed to have a great time, and so did Roger. I really enjoyed being around him. The tensions were gone; the evolution into friends and business partners seemed to go off perfectly. Even better was the rapport he and Greg developed. Maybe it was an alpha male thing, but whatever it was, they were buddies. I'd have invited Roger to join us in bed, but we were still on lock down.

And that's what was on my mind this morning as I lay in bed, my own bed, and looked out the window at beautiful Malibu beach. I was so horny. This was the longest I'd gone without sex in a very long time, and I was beside myself. Greg was a stickler for details, and he'd refused to make love last night. Ten days was ten days. But this morning there was no way he was putting me off.

I got up early and headed to the bathroom to clean up and brush my teeth. Then I walked back into the bedroom, being quiet so I didn't wake him up, and straddled his hard cock. I lowered myself onto him, and it was wonderful, perfect. He fit me so well.

His eyes flew open and he looked at me, first with shock, then with a smile, and made love to me with the passion and smoothness that made him a great lover. That was nice, but the best part, the part that made it special, was the love he put into it. I felt like I actually merged into him, like we became one person, and the bond we achieved was celebrated with this massive fusion reaction, this huge explosion; our simultaneous orgasms. We spent the morning in bed, reconnecting. It was marvelous. Marvelous until Armand came in.

He looked very sad. “What's wrong big guy?” Greg asked him, motioning him to come over and sit on the bed.

“I told Scott that I was gay and he freaked out and left.”

“Why did you tell him?” I could feel his pain.

“He asked me if I had a problem with you guys being gay, and being lovers. I was just honest with him, and I told him that I did not, especially since I was gay too. Then he freaked out, asked me if I was trying to turn him into a fag. He wanted to know if I was checking him out, and stuff like that. I told him that I wasn’t, that he was a friend, and that seemed to piss him off even more. So now he's gone. If he spreads this around, my career is ruined and there's no way I can go to school.”

He had a point there. That would really create a problem. “I think that Scott is too happy here, too comfortable with us and too loyal to his aunt to do something like that. He probably just needs some time to digest this. Remember, in this country homosexuality is considered to be a sickness.”

“I seem to have a problem making friends and keeping them. Either they want to fuck me and that's why they're nice to me, or when they find out that I might want to fuck them they run away.”

I stroked his back. “You know, it's been ten days since our shots. We've been celebrating this morning. What about you? You feel like breaking your period of celibacy?”

He grinned really big and tore off his clothes. He was sandwiched in between Greg and me. He knew Greg, and turned to let Greg have access to his cute little ass. I heard him moan in my ear when Greg entered him. I felt him slide into me, and he came almost immediately.

Greg stopped, but Armand wouldn't let him. “Keep going. I'll be up in no time,” he said, panting. I felt him soften briefly, but Greg pounded his little butt relentlessly and I felt his dick harden back to full strength. Greg shot his load, which freed Armand to focus on me, and now he had his stamina back. I was enjoying his rhythm, getting into it, when I felt something warm and soft on my dick. I looked down to see Greg blowing me, and that sent me over the edge. I shot my load down his throat. Armand went just a little bit longer before he deposited his second wad in me.

Sex seemed to cheer him up. We all got up, Armand heading back to his room while Greg and I took a shower. Just being naked with him, exploring his body, was such a rush it was almost a narcotic.

We were downstairs sitting in the front room, enjoying the winter day at the beach, when Scott came in. “Hi,” he said sheepishly. “Is Armand home?”

“I think he's upstairs taking a shower,” I told him.

“Oh. I wanted to talk to him. Do you think it would be OK if I went upstairs?” This was weird. He'd been staying here, upstairs, for the past few weeks.

“I think he'd be glad to see you,” I said. “You want me to go up with you?” He seemed so nervous, and he said nothing. “Come on.”

We headed up the stairs to Armand's room. I knocked softly and got no answer. I started to panic. Was he upset enough to hurt himself? I tried the door and it was locked. Scott looked like he was going to start crying. I ran into my room and got the master key to unlock the door. I unlocked his door and threw it open. We both burst in. And there was Armand, stark naked on his bed, lying on his back with his legs spread, slowly jacking off.

“Do you not knock?” he asked. He wasn't shy, and he didn't panic. He just stopped what he was doing and climbed under the covers.

“I'm so sorry Armand. I guess we did not knock loudly enough. I was just worried. I apologize for violating your privacy.”

“It's no big deal Stef,” he said calmly, then focused on Scott. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk to you, to apologize for being such an asshole.”

Armand smiled. “You can come in.”

“Uh, did you need to finish up first?” he asked shyly.

I cracked up and left them to themselves.

About an hour later they came dancing down the stairs together. “Can we borrow your car?” Armand asked me.

“Sure,” I said, “you know where the keys are.”

“I'll be right there Scott,” Armand said, and waited until he was out of earshot. He grinned at us. “He worked through it just like you said. And then I showed him that there are some neat fringe benefits to having a gay friend.” We just laughed as he ran off after Scott.

December 15, 1973

Tonight was the first party we were hosting as a couple, and we were doing it for an excellent reason. Today the American Psychiatric Association removed homosexuality from its DSM-II manual. As far as the shrinks were concerned, being gay was no longer a disease. It seemed appropriate that as one of Hollywood's leading “out” couples we would throw the big bash. It was a hell of a lot better reason than the party we'd been to last weekend to honor the confirmation of Gerald Ford as the new Vice President.

Guests started arriving around 7pm and the party picked up its tempo quickly. We'd put aside a room upstairs for any guys that wanted to hook up, but I had strictly banned Armand from the room. He didn't seem to care about that. He was more into talking to people, and making sure that Scott had a good time. I talked to Alice about him being there. I didn't want him to feel uncomfortable. But he had grappled with Armand being gay and seemed fine with it now.

It was the usual Hollywood A-list crowd, but I'd gotten Greg to relent and invite Jackie along as well. She was on her best behavior. I paced my drinking since I was the host. After the party got started, the band was playing, the drinks were flowing, and the hors d'oeuvre were being served, my job was pretty easy. I just moved around the party making sure everyone felt welcome and had everything they needed. I'd learned the art of socializing from the two experts: JP's mother and Isidore. I figured that if I modeled myself on them, I couldn't go wrong.

I saw the normal guys approach Armand and try to get him to run off with them, but he just blew them off. I smiled at his new resolve. Unfortunately that just made some of them more persistent, and I had to gently intervene twice to explain things to a few guys. They grumbled and went upstairs. Throughout the party I had noted where Greg was, not to keep tabs on him, but just to know where he was if I needed him.

I felt two arms wrap around me from the back and his soft, deep voice murmur into my ear. “You've done such a great job babe. This is the best party ever.” I leaned back into him and felt his warm body mold against me.

“Thanks. That makes it all worthwhile.”

“I think I'm going to head upstairs and see what's going on. You want to come with me?” I was conflicted. A good host would stay here to watch over the party. A good boyfriend would go with him. I went with him.

The orgy room was in full swing. The first thing I did was check to make sure that Armand wasn't there. I scanned the crowd, noting that there were the usual suspects there. Then, off in the back, I saw one thing that really surprised me. Scott was there, and he was pounding Mr. Brady like there was no tomorrow. I nudged Greg and he looked over at Scott too. He just shrugged his shoulders. I felt someone behind me and it was Armand. I tried to get him to stay out but he didn't. For some reason, he was able to spot Scott immediately.

“I want to go in there,” he told me firmly.

“No you do not. You just want to go in and show Scott that you can be a slut. It will not do any good. If he liked you, he would not do this. If you are just a relief valve for him, you have no reason to be upset. Do not make a fool of yourself.” He looked at me, knowing I was right. I could see the conflict in his eyes. I looked at Greg. “I need to host this party, but this young man needs a good fuck. Think you could help him out?”

“It would be my pleasure,” Greg said. Armand smiled. Greg is an amazing lover, and I knew that Armand appreciated his skill. Greg led him off to our room, and I returned to the party.

About half an hour later, Scott came up to me. “Have you seen Armand?”

“He was looking for you earlier and found you upstairs.” I let that sink in. He looked horrified. He was about to protest that it wasn't true but I saved him the indignity. “It looked like you were enjoying yourself.” He blushed and cringed. “I think he found someone to spend some time with. I'm sure if you wait around he will be out soon.” He blanched, and then turned away from me awkwardly and fled. Where he went I really didn't know, but his reaction told me that his feelings for Armand were beyond the fuck boy level.

I was chatting with a director and his wife when Greg appeared at my side. “Hey babe,” I said. “I missed you.” The director and his wife smiled at us, thinking about what a happily married couple we were. Happy yes, but I had an almost overwhelming desire to tell them that my partner had just finished fucking the latest Teen Beat cover boy.

I saw Armand and caught up to him. “I ran into Scott. I told him you were with someone.” Armand looked nervous.

“What did he say?”

“He got pretty upset and left. I'm not sure if he left the house, or just went off somewhere else. He's not upstairs, that I do know.”

“Why did you tell him that?” He was agitated now.

“Because it was the truth and because I wanted to see his reaction. And because he was trying to bullshit me and tell me that he was not upstairs.”

“Now he will hate me.”

“Why would he hate you? He was fucking someone else, why should you not? Are you two dating?”

“No, we're not dating. He claims that he's not gay. But we have a lot of sex and he seems to like it a lot for someone who is not a fag.”

I put my hands on his shoulders to physically and emotionally calm him down. “You cannot be on call for him while he runs off and fucks around on you. The rules have to be fair. If they are not, you will become his door mat.” He nodded. “I think you are more than just a cum receptacle to him.”

“I do not. He does not care about me. He does not care if I enjoy it when we have sex. He does not show me any of the kindness that other guys do.”

“Well, those other guys are older and they know they're gay. Scott is young and confused. And inexperienced. You have to help him maximize your pleasure. Just do not let this guy get the upper hand. You should be able to rule him like you're a tsar.”

He smiled. “I need to reevaluate my strategy.”

“Good boy. And now I have to see to my guests.”

At 5am, and not a minute before, the last guests finally left, with Greg and me pouring them into a limousine and sending them on their way. The house was trashed, with garbage everywhere and stains in the carpet. The cleaning crew would get here in four hours. I sighed. I did a final walk through to make sure that everyone was where they were supposed to be.

Armand was asleep in his bed, Greg was in our bed, but Scott wasn't in “his” room, the room he'd been staying in. I was worried about him so I wandered around the house, and finally found him sleeping in the garage. He was in the back seat of Greg's Rolls Royce. I shook him to wake him up.

“What?” he asked rudely, then came to and saw it was me. “Oh, I'm sorry. I just couldn't take the party anymore so I came out here to sleep. I hope that's OK?”

“It's just fine Scott. Come on. Let's go upstairs and go to bed.”

“You and me?” he asked. I'd probably be able to do him a world of good, but that was not in the cards.

“Tempting,” I said, and kissed him on the cheek, “but not tonight. Come on.”

“Armand hates me,” he said.

“I doubt that he hates you, but you probably need to explain yourself to him. You say you are not gay, which of course we all believe, but you have sex with him. That is confusing. You need to tell him where you're coming from.”

He nodded. “I really care about him but I'm not gay.”

“You looked pretty gay when you were fucking Mr. Brady,” I said.

“Yeah, but I didn't let anyone else fuck me. That means I'm not gay, right?”

“Scott, being gay is not about whether you are the fucker or the fuckee. It's about who turns you on. Let me ask you a question. When you jack off, who do you think about?”


He blushed. “It varies.”

“Mostly girls or mostly boys?”

“Like I said, it varies.” That made him defensive. He spent a lot more time fantasizing about men than he was willing to admit.

“There's a thing called bisexual, which is where you like both men and women. Maybe that's where you are. But you need to get a grip on this or you will be a bum lay.”

“I haven't had any complaints.” he said.

“I’ve not heard any,” I lied. “But if you are so busy making sure that you do not enjoy it too much because that will make you gay, then it is your partner who will suffer. Whether you are with a man or a woman, making sure that person enjoys you is the key to enjoying yourself.”

He dropped the defensiveness and looked at me, pleading. “Will you show me how to be a better lover? I know I'm not good. I just haven't done it much. That's why I went upstairs to that room. I figured maybe I'd learn. It didn't work.”

“You are adorable and you are testing my willpower, but you do not need me. Tell Armand just what you told me. Tell him that you are inexperienced. He knows anyway, so admit it. Tell him why you went to the room. Ask him to teach you. If you let him, he will blow your mind.”

“Really?” he said kind of excited.

“Really. You will think there was an earthquake.”

He gave me a big hug and headed upstairs. I watched him go not to his room, but to Armand's.

“What took you so long?” asked Greg, annoyed.

“I was talking to a very confused young man.”

“Scott?”

“Yes. He asked me to show him how to be a better lover.”

Greg smiled at me. “Did you?” I frowned and he stopped me. “I'm just kidding. Don't get mad. I trust you.”

“Sorry. I'm tired and I've got to get up in three hours to talk to the cleaning people.”

“I've got a better idea. Let's just not go to sleep.”

December 16, 1973

I sat in the kitchen, exhausted. The cleaning crew was working like a demon, doing a great job, but it was still taking way too long. It was noon now, and I prayed they were close to finishing.

Scott came bouncing into the kitchen with a big smile on his face. He gave me a big hug, odd for him. “Damn, you were right. I don't know if I'm gay or not but that was fucking awesome.” Then he tore off again. I cracked up. Armand must have shown him a hell of a good time for him to hug me and use the “F” word.

Finally the cleaners were done and I headed to bed and passed out. It seemed like almost right after I lay down that there was a hand on my shoulder, gently shaking me.

“Stef, come on. Get up. We have the charity event tonight,” Greg said urgently.

I groaned. Tonight was a charity art show to benefit gay rights, put together before the DSM was changed. Scheduling it had been a stroke of fantastic fortune, because now most of Hollywood felt obligated to go. As a visibly gay couple, we couldn't possibly skip it. I sighed. “Alright. We're leaving early though.”

“No problem,” he smiled. “I'll buy a painting and we're out of there.” He took a shower with me and really woke me up, then I put on black tie yet again and we were off. The limo dropped us off in front of the museum and we entered to the flash of light bulbs. I felt like such a celebrity, but I kept giggling. I hope it came off as a charming smile on film.

We had a nice time, hobnobbing with many of the people we'd seen last night. Greg bid on a nice sculpture and managed to win, so we felt we'd done our duty. It was amazing how long it took to leave. We had to say goodbye to fucking everyone, and they all thanked Greg profusely for his high bid. And on and on it went. Finally we were at the front door, walking down the steps. I was so exhausted I didn't think I'd make it to the limo that was 100 feet away.

I heard tires peel as a car burned out to my right. I saw it as a blur as it sped toward the limo. There was a guy leaning out the window. I didn't see his face, I just heard his words. “DIE FAGGOTS!” he screamed. And then there were two loud cracks.

Searing pain. Unbelievable pain as I felt the bullet pass through my chest. I realized that I was falling, and there was nothing but darkness. And then it was completely black.

Copyright © 2011 Mark Arbour; All Rights Reserved.
  • Like 23
  • Love 1
  • Wow 5
  • Sad 3
  • Angry 1
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Story Discussion Topic

You are not currently following this author. Be sure to follow to keep up to date with new stories they post.

Recommended Comments

Chapter Comments

It is so sad that even today those that are unsure or fear something in themselves find it necessary to lash out at others...

 

Stef gave both Armaund and Scott the perfect piece of advice, who would have thought that Stef would turn into the perfect Mrs. Cleaver...

  • Like 3
Link to comment

Not cool Mark Arbour, not cool at all :angry:. Everything was perfect up to that, with the party, the teen angst and STD all clear, then you had to go and shoot Stef.

Thanks for the kick in the gut you sadist :P.

  • Like 2
  • Haha 1
Link to comment

Chapter 28

-When Scott and Armand develop a good friendship so that by Thanksgiving, he's staying with the family, and Armand helps give him a makeover.

"You've Got A Friend" by James Taylor

-For when Armand tells Scott he's gay, who freaks out, and then Stefan helps the two boys deal with their teenage angst.

"Baba O'Riley" by The Who

-When the new power couple hosts a party celebrating homosexuality being taken off the mental illness list, and Stefan helps Armand and Scott sort out their relationship. Again. Gotta love teen angst.

"Cum on Feel the Noise" by Slade

-When Stefan and Greg get shot at.

"What's Going On?" by Marvin Gaye

Link to comment
View Guidelines

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now
  • Newsletter

    Sign Up and get an occasional Newsletter.  Fill out your profile with favorite genres and say yes to genre news to get the monthly update for your favorite genres.

    Sign Up
×
×
  • Create New...

Important Information

Our Privacy Policy can be found here: Privacy Policy. We have placed cookies on your device to help make this website better. You can adjust your cookie settings, otherwise we'll assume you're okay to continue..