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    Mark Arbour
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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 - 1. Chapter 1


February 1, 1973

I smiled at the small placard in front of the building, the placard that said Schluter Properties and had my business phone number on it. This was my newest building, right off of Highway 101 in Santa Clara, in the heart of the booming South San Francisco Bay Area. The building may have another company's name on it in big letters, but it was mine, owned by my company, one of many. I contrasted the buildings here to those in the East. Here, buildings were low and sprawling. This one was only two stories tall. In Chicago and New York, they were working on high-rise monstrosities. Sure the Sears Tower and the World Trade Center were nice monuments, but more to men's egos than to economic realities. Buildings like this were cheaper to build and much more profitable.

I pondered my life. Just eleven years ago I'd been a poor child, son of a common whore living in Paris' seedy Bellevue district. I had enough to eat, and a place to sleep, and that's it. If I wanted more, I'd had to do what my mother did: sell my body. I'd learned quickly that young boys in Paris were in much greater demand by other men than women, which was fine with me, since it fit my natural inclinations. An older friend of mine, Marc Sievres, had taken me under his wing and taught me how to use my body to maximize another man's pleasure. More importantly, he'd taught me how to enjoy it just as much. He showed me that even if you didn't necessarily want to be with the guy you were with, if you made the best of it and enjoyed yourself, the other guy would like it that much more. Tips and repeat business were the results of my skills.

Then all that had changed. My mother died, leaving me as a 16 year old orphan, but giving me the ticket to my success on her death bed. She told me to go to Ohio, to my real father's family. It had been a harrowing journey, and thinking back, I wondered how I had the courage to make it. I spoke little English, had almost no money and the people there, my grandparents and extended family, didn't even know I existed. It was a long shot they'd even believe that I was their grandson. I'd managed to scrounge the money for a one-way trip to Claremont, Ohio, and discovered, much to my surprise, a warm welcome. Another piece of luck, the fact that I had inherited the classic Schluter looks, with strawberry blond hair, dispelled any doubts that I was indeed a Schluter. Within a month, I had been transformed from a Paris rent boy into the scion of one of Claremont's top three families.

This building, though, this was proof that I was not a success because of my family. I was a success because I'd gone out and grabbed opportunity by the balls. I was good at grabbing balls, I thought, amusing myself. My time at the University of Chicago had taught me that the real estate business was simply a matter of mathematical calculations linked to the study of demographics. Show me a pretty building and I'll be unimpressed. Show me positive internal rate of return (IRR) calculations, now that I'll get excited about. So what some saw as a challenging business, I found to be a simple task. Run the numbers and that tells you what your rents have to be, what a building is worth, and if those numbers match up favorably, you buy or build the property. If it doesn't, you pass. You can't love a building; you can't get all googly-eyed over a fountain in front. That's irrelevant. It's all about the money.

I'd been poor before, and I vowed to never be poor again. My cousin, JP Crampton, had tried to explain to me all the rules and obligations that came with wealth, but it was easy for him because he'd always had a silver spoon in his mouth. That or a dick, I joked to myself. JP, flawed and eccentric, yet by far the most important person in my life. I thought back ruefully to that time in Claremont all those years ago when I'd tossed our relationship away. I still loved him, although that love had changed in character. Still, I knew that if he wasn't completely locked up with his partner Sam, I could fall for him again. I put that thought out of my mind. Sam is a great guy, and I would never, could never come between them. I still had a room at JP's Palo Alto palace, Escorial, and I spent a lot of time there. It was my connection to family, my grounding, and had given me the emotional anchor that let me live my life the way I wanted to. So now, at 27 years old, reasonably tall, thin, and with a sensuous air that I worked hard to cultivate, endowed with a loving family and tons of money, I had achieved the American Dream.

Best of all, my success really didn't depend on the opinion of others, so after the Stonewall Riots in 1969 and the full onslaught of the Gay Rights Movement, I had no problem making my sexuality public. JP didn't have that luxury; he and Sam still played at being heterosexual in public. I didn't need to do that. Besides, I found that after guys found out I was queer, many of them were willing to cross the fence to experiment with me. That really made me smile.

I stopped my introspection and headed into the building with its marble floors and wood walls. Classy and simple, in a Scandinavian kind of way, was the way I built my buildings. That way few were overly wowed, but almost no one was turned off. Buildings were places to do business. I stopped outside the door of an office labeled COMCALC and took a deep breath before walking in. COMCALC was a small company, basically two guys just out of college trying to cash in on the new craze in digital computers. I didn't understand it. I didn't have to. That wasn't my business. I did understand that they were two months behind on their rent, though, and that was my problem.

The receptionist eyed me warily. Probably thought I was a creditor. She was right. “I'm Stefan Schluter and I need to see Gary Allen,” I said firmly.

“Uh, he's in a meeting,” she said nervously.

“Tell him that I need to talk to him. It's in his best interest. He'll know what I'm talking about.”

She nodded and picked up the phone. She mumbled into it, arguing with him, but all I could hear was my name. She turned back to me with a smile. “He'll be right with you,” she said.

In no time at all, Gary Allen came strolling out to greet me. There were two reasons I'd rented the space to him and his partner. The first was my instincts. I just knew these guys would ultimately be successful. I'd seen JP have these intuitive hunches, and he always trusted them. I rarely seemed to have them, but when I did, I figured I might as well follow them. The second was that this guy was really foxy. He was tall, with dark brown hair, and muscular. Not muscular in a lithe, sexy way, muscular in a bulky football player way. The kind of guy that could really fuck your brains out if he wanted to.

“Hey Stefan, come on back,” he said with a smile. He led me through their lab, strewn with equipment: wires, and other electronic type devices, and into his office. It was small, with just a desk and two chairs. “Jake isn't here right now,” he said. Jake was a dorky, dweeby guy. He wasn't nearly as attractive as Gary.

He closed the door behind us and motioned for me to sit down. “I know we're behind on our rent Stefan. I'm so sorry. You had faith in us and we're letting you down.” I just nodded and waited for him to continue. “We're working on two contracts, and if either one of them breaks we'll be golden. Until then, we're having trouble even paying Jeanine.” She must be the secretary out front.

“You did not plan for this? You did not plan for a lack of revenue?” I asked, not in a threatening manner, but with genuine curiosity.

“We were overly optimistic. If you can just give us some more time, I know we can make up our back rent,” he said, practically pleading. God he was cute. I loved guys like this, guys in distress; because I knew that I could make him feel great, so great, he'd forget his problems for a little bit.

“You are already two months behind Gary. I am a businessman. I do not see how I could just let you stay here rent free. That would not be fair to my investors, now would it?” A little more misery would be needed to close this deal.

He looked resigned. “You're right. Look, we'll move out this week, and I promise we'll pay you what we owe you, somehow, someway.”

“Have you ever thought about bringing in outside investors?” I asked.

“Not really. We thought we could handle things ourselves. Plus, investors usually bring a bunch of strings along with them.”

“That is true, and I am no exception, but if you present your business plan to me, I may be willing to back you and Jake.” His eyes got big and he got a big smile. “There is only one catch.” His smile vanished.

“What?” he asked.

I moved over to him, using my slinkiest walk, and knelt in front of him. “I want your body.”

He gulped. “You, you want my body? I'm not into that, I mean, I've got a fiancée and I'm into women, not men.” I ran my hands over his thighs, risking getting pounded, but knowing that I'd probably win this battle.

“Is not keeping your business afloat worth giving me what I want once in awhile?” I asked coyly, moving my hands up to his crotch. “I am not asking you to be gay; I just want you to fuck me.” I moved my face down to his groin and nuzzled his hardening cock.

“If my girlfriend finds out, she'll kill me,” he said, and I knew I'd won.

“Unless your office is bugged, that is not going to happen.” I lowered his zipper and pulled out his hardening cock. His body was big, but his dick wasn't. I was confronted with a rock hard 5 inches. I lowered my mouth on him and heard him moan. I was good at giving head. I was good at sex. The only one who was close to me in skill was JP. I paused and looked up at him. His had that crazed look in his eyes and he grabbed my head to push me back down on his cock. “So it is not too bad after all?” I teased.

He smiled. “No. That feels amazing.” I stood up and he looked disappointed. I dropped my pants and kicked them off, and then I bent over his desk exposing my ass to him. I pulled some lube out of my pocket and handed it to him.

“You think that was good, wait until you fuck me,” I taunted. I felt his fingers covered with lube probing my hole and closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation. Then the fingers were gone and I felt his presence behind me as he moved up and gently inserted his cock in my waiting hole.

“Ahhhh,” he moaned as he began plowing in and out of me. I moved my ass so he hit my magic spot, my prostate, and just enjoyed the ride. I felt him pick up his pace and knew he was getting excited. I wanted this to last longer, and I wanted him to really get into it.

I moved so he popped out of my ass and turned around to face him. He looked sad and confused. I leaned in and kissed him, wondering if he'd be like some straight boys and turn away. He met my mouth enthusiastically, and he was actually a pretty good kisser. I unbuttoned my shirt and broke our kiss, leaning back on the desk and putting my legs on his shoulders. “I want to watch you fuck me.”

He didn't hesitate. He moved right back into position and in no time he was in me again. “I knew you'd be a terrific lover,” I said in between pants. “I knew you'd be fantastic. You make me feel amazing. You know just how to use your dick. You are all man.” I watched his reaction carefully. I'd learned a long time ago that stroking the guy's sexual ego was just as erotic to him as stroking his cock. I knew he wouldn't last much longer so I started stroking my own dick.

“You're amazing Stefan. You're gonna make me cum. I'm sorry, I want to wait...can't!”

“Me too. You're gonna make us cum at the same time. You are such a stud,” I cried softly. Never mind that I was the one who'd done it. I felt my first shot fly onto my chest at the same time that he started to flood my ass. It was a long orgasm for him. He must not be getting much at home.

After he was done he pulled out of me quickly like most straight guys did. But there was a nice, tender side to this guy. He ran his fingers up my sides and caressed my face, and then he pulled out some paper towels from his desk drawer and helped me clean the cum off of my body. Dressed, I stood in front of him and gently kissed him. “Thanks Gary, you were as amazing as I dreamed you would be. That was not so bad was it?”

He grinned. “No, that wasn't bad at all. I think I can handle that kind of interest payment.” I giggled.

“Here's the address to my cousin's house in Palo Alto. He's having a big party Saturday night to celebrate the end of the War. I want you to be there with a business plan, and we'll sneak off and take a few minutes to talk business. You can bring your fiancée as long as she does not mind if I steal you for a few minutes,” I said with a leer.

“No problem,” he said, still smiling.

I left him and my new building and headed to my house in the Saratoga Hills. There were more forms of currency than just money.

February 3, 1973

I looked around my house, making sure I'd turned all the lights off. It was a small place on a big chunk of land in Saratoga. Just three bedrooms and three baths, it was puny compared to the estates of my neighbors, but I loved it. It was sleek and contemporary. My favorite part was that it was on multiple levels, designed to adapt to the contour of the hillside, and every room had a breathtaking view of the Valley below. I'd put a high powered telescope in the living room, and I could actually see a lot of my properties through it. Sometimes when I was looking for the buildings the scope would accidentally pause on the window of the kid that lived in the house below. He was 17 and super-cute, and he liked to masturbate a lot. Too young for me, I thought. Unless he appeared at my door. I giggled to myself. I really had no self-control when it came to guys.

I hopped into my new toy: a brand new Porsche 911 with the new Bosch fuel injection system. I'd just gotten it yesterday, but I was already in love. It was an absolute blast to drive. I couldn't wait to run it over Highway 17 to Santa Cruz. It was also the first time I'd strayed from family tradition. Schluters always bought Chryslers, always. The 300 Convertible in my garage was testimony to that. But I'd decided that tradition was fine for Claremont, but not here in California. JP would be so jealous. This might just wean him off of GM products, the brands that Cramptons always bought. I zipped up Highway 17 and caught I-280 north. It was a beautiful road, especially when it wound out of Cupertino and into Los Altos Hills. I shot past Foothill College, and finally found the Palo Alto exit. Winding enthusiastically into the hills with my little sports car was a blast. I punched in my code and the gates to Escorial magically opened, welcoming me to the place that I truly considered home.

I bounced through the front door and browsed around for JP. I knocked gently on his bedroom door and tried the handle. It was unlocked so I went in. I grinned when I saw them, Sam and JP. Sam was on the bottom, with JP lying on top of him. I could see Sam's huge dick moving in and out of JP while his fingers explored JP's body. This was JP's favorite position, being supine like that on his back. Sam saw me first and slowed down.

“Stefan,” he said and JP moved his head up and greeted me too. He was crazed, clearly enjoying his morning fuck.

“Good morning gentlemen,” I said as I knelt between their legs and took JP's throbbing cock in my mouth. I loved to fuck around with these guys. They always included me in their sexploits and made me feel welcome.

“Oh God,” cried JP.

Sam picked up his pace again, and started talking to JP, cooing in his ear. I'd learned how to do that from Jeff, JP's former boyfriend, but Sam had taught me how to master it. His deep voice was like an aphrodisiac. “Look baby, Stefan's here. Does his mouth feel as good, wrapped around your cock, as your ass feels to me? God you feel good. Look down there; look at his mouth working you.”

“Ahhhhh,” cried JP and I felt his first shot hit the back of my throat. I swallowed him readily. I'd do anything for him, anything; swallowing his load was just a bonus.

After he was spent he pulled off of a still hard Sam and kissed me passionately. We'd been messing around together for so long; we knew just which buttons to push. “It's so good to see you Stefan, but you made me cum too soon so you'll have to finish Sam off for me.” I giggled and stripped out of my clothes.

JP was cute, short, blond, and lithe. He had the face of a model, and even though he was getting close to 40, he still looked like a young guy. Sam was just the opposite, a total stud. He was closer to my age and had a rock hard physique, the build of a guy that spent some time every day in the gym with weights. He had light olive skin and black hair that matched his Italian-American heritage, and a really really big dick. Not as big as some, Deke flashed in my mind and I cringed a bit, but definitely big.

I got down on all fours and JP lay down in front of me, making out with me while I felt Sam's fingers probe my ass with lube. He knew I didn't need a lot of work, I knew how to use my body, so in seconds he plowed into me. I had to break my lock with JP's lips to moan, which made JP smile. Sam pulled me into an upright position and wrapped his strong arms around me while he pounded my ass. God he was strong. I loved it when he did that. He knew just how firmly to wrap his arms around me, just the right amount of pressure to apply to make me know that he totally dominated me and that he could do whatever the fuck he wanted to. JP moved forward and engulfed my cock, and in no time Sam and I were blowing our loads together. We collapsed, spent, in a pile on their bed.

“It's so good to see you guys,” I said and couldn't help laughing.

“I'm glad you came up early. The kids will be thrilled to see you.” The thought of the kids made me smile. For a gay guy, JP had acquired quite a brood. The apple of JP's eye was Ace, the son of his wife, Isidore, and his first boyfriend, Andre. Ace was a great guy, an incredibly precocious ten-year-old. He had his father's looks, tall, dark, and handsome. He was destined to be a total hunk. JP was fastidiously careful, as all of us were, to make sure all four kids knew they were loved, but I knew that Ace was his favorite. Ace had a wry and playful French sense of humor, just like mine I admitted to myself. He was full of life, and made everyone around him smile.

Brad was actually a little older than Ace. Ace was born in March of 1963, while Brad was born in October of 1962. Brad was the one I doted on. He was the son of my Uncle Billy, who was killed on the USS Thresher, only he wasn't Billy's real son. His father had been another navy officer, and he was the product of an affair his mother had had while Billy was at sea. Still, Brad had the same last name as me, and there was a bond between us that was hard to describe. He acknowledged JP as his father, but he treated me the same way. Brad had a lot of emotional baggage that came from having a mother and an older brother and sister who didn't like him. His mother killed herself before they could deal with that. It had turned him into a shy introspective guy. His one love, and talent, seemed to be art.

Billy and Claire were the last two, the twins. Unacknowledged by everyone except Sam, JP, Isidore and I, Billy had the obvious physical characteristics of Jeff. Thinking about Jeff brought a familiar pain, and because Billy reminded me so much of him it was sometimes hard for me to be around him. Ironically, Billy and Sam had completely bonded. I found this to be really strange since JP had once chosen Jeff over Sam, but that didn't seem to bother Sam. Billy was athletic just like his Dad, and Sam picked up on that. It wasn't unusual to find the two of them tossing a football around.

And then there was Claire, so obviously JP's daughter with his gorgeous looks. She wasn't anyone's favorite, she was everyone's favorite. She had all of us wrapped around her little finger, totally and completely, and she knew it. Sometimes that made her bratty, but usually it just made her into a flirt, which was pretty funny from someone so young.

I wandered down the corridor to Brad's room. I knocked gently and got no answer so I went in. He was still asleep, lying on his stomach. He was already tall for his age and he hadn't even started puberty. With dark brown hair and bright green eyes, he would be a real lady killer when he got older. The thought of him and Ace prowling the bars for women made me chuckle. Those two best friends: what a team they'd be. I jumped on top of him, waking him up and scaring the shit out of him at the same time.

“Hey! Get the fuck off of me Ace!” he yelled. Then he turned over and saw it was me and got a horrified look on his face. He said the “f” word in front of an adult. But I couldn't be mad at Brad.

“Is that any way to greet your uncle?” I teased. “And what is with that language?” I spoke French; I always spoke in French with the kids. All of us were determined that they be multi-lingual, so these four kids were fluent in French and English, and damn close to fluent in Spanish and Italian.

“Sorry Uncle Stefan,” he said sheepishly, but I just rolled my eyes and pulled him into a big hug. He held on for a long time. This poor boy just craved attention. “It's good to see you.” I giggled at him. We sat there and chatted about school for awhile. He was smart but not the best student. A daydreamer. But he was a very deep and complex boy. People who didn't take the time to know him were really missing out. Suddenly another brown headed blur flew through the air and tackled me. Ace, of course. They both jumped on me, but I knew their weakness. They were both very ticklish. I spent the morning with the kids, enjoying the paternal feelings they invoked. It was truly marvelous to watch them grow up and turn into big people.

I found JP in the great room with Isidore. “Stefan!” she said, greeting me warmly. We were good friends, great friends, two French people transplanted to America. That and we worked closely together on our business ventures. Isidore headed the West Coast branch of Crampton Construction and she built all of my buildings. It was symbiotic, since Crampton Construction frequently invested in the buildings as well.

“You are as beautiful as you were the first day I met you,” I said, turning on the charm. She knew me and my game, so the flirting just amused her.

“I need a favor Stefan,” JP interjected. He seemed stressed. There would be scads of people here tonight, so he had that on his mind.

“Did I not do enough this morning?” I teased. Isidore giggled and JP blushed.

He ignored my humor. “Would you ride out with Rafael to pick up Peter? He's coming in this afternoon and I'd like to have someone there to greet him. I'm too busy to go, and I need Sam around for slave labor.” Peter Gordon? The hot movie star. So what if he was seven years older than me, so what if he had been Deke's lover, so what if they were together again? He was hot as hell, with that red hair. JP was smiling at me. “I feel bad sending such a slut to pick him up, but you're the only person I could think of.”

“I will perform my duties admirably,” I said with a grin and Isidore giggled again. JP just shook his head.

I sat in the back of the limousine studying the financials for a new building in Cupertino. This one looked to make some sense if Isidore could get it built within nine months. I jotted down the schematics and timelines for her to look at, and then put the work away as we drove up to the terminal. San Jose Municipal Airport had all the charm of a bus station, but it was easy to use so we all usually chose it over San Francisco when possible. I nodded to Rafael. He wasn't my favorite person, primarily because he'd been impervious to my attempts to sleep with him. I know that was a shitty way to be, but rejection is rejection.

I didn't have a sign. I knew what he looked like. He'd probably be mobbed, so I plotted the fastest route to the waiting limousine. Sure enough, the plane pulled up and Peter was the first off. He walked through the door and I approached him. He didn't know who I was but I saw him check me out before getting ready to brush past me. “Peter, I'm Stefan Schluter. I was sent here to pick you up.”

He looked at me, his beautiful eyes locking on mine, his red hair sexy as hell. “So you're the famous Stefan? I've heard so much about you. I wonder if the stories are all true.” God he was charming. I'll show him he'd met his match.

“I'd be happy to show you,” I said with a wink and a smile. That made him laugh. People were staring, starting to recognize him, so I rushed him off to the limo. We jumped in quickly and I told Rafael to drive down to baggage claim. Peter described his bag, and we sent Rafael off to find it.

“Deke told me to say hello,” he said awkwardly. I needed to defuse this issue now.

“Peter, please do not be nervous about that. I still consider Deke a friend and I am not bitter or upset that he went back to L.A. to be with you. Now that I've met you, I can't say that I blame him.” His eyebrows went up.

“Thanks Stefan. I was kind of nervous about meeting you. Deke said you were a great guy and told me not to worry, but I'm pretty guarded. I have to be.”

“I understand,” I said. The trunk opened and closed as Rafael put his bag into the trunk. Rafael got in and I asked him to take us home, then I pushed the button and put up the privacy screen. It was satisfying to see the irritated look on Rafael's face. “Still, you did steal my boyfriend away,” I said flirting. “I think you should try and make it up to me.”

He studied me carefully. “I'm not sure that's such a good idea. I mean, we're in a limousine on a public road.” I giggled. He was as good as mine, as soon as he identified his objections.

I knelt before him and ran my hands over his crotch. “In a limousine with privacy tinted glass. We can see out, they can't see in. I think it's erotic. Come on Peter, show me that all of the things I've heard about you are true,” I said huskily. His dick responded quickly and I lowered his zipper. He didn't stop me.

I lowered my mouth down on his nice cock, inhaling his scent. God he smelled good. He had that typical male smell, the tanginess of body odor and pheromones mixed together, but there was a special sweetness to it as well. It drove me crazy. He was moaning, and I knew I had him now, and I'd have him for the rest of the weekend. I moved up to kiss him and discovered that what Deke and JP had said was true. He was an amazing kisser. I ran my fingers through his long red hair while he undid my pants.

He pulled me to him then flipped me onto the seat with my legs in the air. Then he moved down and returned the favor, working my dick flawlessly. This guy was a pro, just like me. Then his mouth moved lower, sucking my balls, licking my perineum, and then my hole. I let out a loud moan and then stifled it, giggling. This should really freak out Rafael.

His finger probed my hole while I grabbed frantically for my pants and my tube of lube I carried with me. “You came prepared,” he joked. “What are you, a boy scout?” I giggled.

“Why, you like boys in uniform?” I teased. He smiled at me as he moved his cock up to my hole. He entered me carefully. Now that we'd moved to sex his whole demeanor had changed. Now he was taking care to make sure we both enjoyed it. The focus wasn't on stimulating me; the focus was on joining with me. I responded by leaning up to him and wrapping my arms around him, pulling his mouth to mine while he slowly fucked me.

He moved his mouth to my neck and picked up his pace, just a bit, but enough to raise the level of stimulation. “Peter, I knew you'd be an amazing lover. They told me, those guys told me how awesome you were, but I didn't believe them. You're making me feel so good. You know just how to play my body. God you're good.” He groaned into my neck and picked up his pace again. I knew I'd gotten him wound up. I kept it up. “You're driving me nuts Peter. You're playing my body like a flute. Ahhhh.” Then something really strange happened. Strange but wonderful. There was a connection between us, like a mind link, and we worked each other's bodies with one mind. We fucked until we were close, then backed off, then picked it up again. The decision that it was time to cum was made silently between our two minds. I'd never ever felt this linked to someone. It was exciting and scary.

I felt the orgasm boiling up in my balls, flowing through my prostate that was being pounded by his cock. He was flowing with me, simultaneously. We said nothing as we reached the point of no return. And then I came. It was the most magnificent orgasm of my life. I blew and blew and blew, then I blew some more. Best of all, he blew right with me. Two bodies totally linked, totally absorbed, writhing together in perfect ecstasy. When we were done I was shaking.

“Are you alright?” he asked me, concerned. He was just adorable.

I ran my hand across his cheek. “I'm fine, I'm great. I've never ever experienced anything like that. You rocked my world Peter.”

He grinned. “I bet you say that to all the guys!” He was joking, but I wasn't.

I looked him in the eyes, forcing the link back. “No, I'm serious. That was amazing.” He leaned forward and kissed me. I became aware that we'd left the freeway and hastily grabbed some paper towels to wipe up the gallons of cum we'd shot. Then we got ourselves dressed and in order in plenty of time to enjoy the drive into the hills.

“Are you staying with JP?” I asked.

“Only if you are,” he said, flirting. I giggled like a girl.

“I'll tell Isidore you're staying in my room,” I said firmly.

“I wonder if I'll ever want to leave it,” he said. God he was charming.

“You will not. I'm irresistible,” I said. I had my mojo back, and this guy was firmly in my sights. I thought about Gary and all the other hot guys that would be at the party, and for the first time in my life, I didn't give a shit. I knew who I wanted.

Copyright © 2011 Mark Arbour; All Rights Reserved.
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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. 

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Love us some Stephan, and I am so glad that u picked him as the narrator of this part of your story. Successfull Stephan is even better. He deserved to have succeeded. Great chapter

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On 05/29/2012 06:32 AM, joann414 said:
Love us some Stephan, and I am so glad that u picked him as the narrator of this part of your story. Successfull Stephan is even better. He deserved to have succeeded. Great chapter
Stef is fun to write!
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A first look at a mature Stef that has all the poise and sex appeal he had when younger but with brains and drive... He will be an unstoppable force of nature...

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Stef as the narrator is a GINORMOUS treat; he and JP are my very favorites. It's amazing how much more mature Stefan is at 27 than JP was and I think it's brilliant to have both their narratives around the same age. Surprised Stef hadn't met Peter but of course they are smokin' hot together. In honor of Stefan, Merci.

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I read Book 1 of the chronicles of an academic predator and enjoyed your style of writing. Besides at my age keeping a hardon for a long time is a miracle followed by a big thank you.
David G

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I had somehow thought of rereading this book as though it would be a chore. I'd forgotten what fun Stef is as a narrator.
Cconsidering I started this odyssey four days ago to check out the changes made to the first seventeen chapters of CAP ... Egad not a good time of year to be so waylaid by these old friends. Pax. And thanks again.

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A fascinating first chapter, l am sure this will quite a story.

Looking forward to the next. Lwj

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