Published: 10 Jan 2022

The land line phone rang for about the tenth time and I was about to let the answering machine take the call when something clicked in my awakening brain and I reached out from the warm cocoon I was swaddled in and answered the phone. The phone sat on one of my bedside cabinets in the bedroom of my apartment in Boston. The apartment actually had two bedrooms, but the second, smaller room, occupied my home office and a pullout couch for infrequent visitors who happened to stay over. I roused myself to answer the phone, wondering who would be calling this early (8 am) and was relieved it was my agent, not a telemarketing call.

We exchanged pleasantries and conducted some business, then we concluded our call. I padded into the en-suite and relieved myself and climbed into the spacious shower. There I ruminated about the phone call and the ramifications of the decisions reached and how they would impact my life, and how I lived it. Refreshed and fully awake after my shower I went to the small kitchen to grab a cup of coffee and a muffin, still thinking about the phone call and the opportunities now open to me.

My agent had called to confirm that my latest novel had sold last night to the Hollywood studio that had previously bid on three of my earlier works and with the new deal I was to receive not only close to two million for the rights to the book, but a percentage of the box office. If the new movie did as well as the previous ones, that could mean about another million. My net worth as it stood that morning was about 15 million. Not bad for a 27 year old single man who had just graduated college 5 years before. I tried to think of someone I could celebrate with and kept drawing a blank. The closest people to me, at that point, were my publisher in New York and my agent, also in New York.

There just wasn’t anyone close to me near where I lived. I hadn’t made any close friends here where I lived, not wanting the disruptions to my routine, not trusting the emotional attachment, not willing to open myself up to the upheaval a close relationship involves. That led me to ruminate about my life and how isolated I had made myself and I resolved to change, now that I had reached what I felt was financial stability and with that I could now slow down a little and enjoy the fruits of my success. I then thought about the apartment I had existed in for the last five years. It wasn’t large, just the bedrooms, the bathroom and an eat in kitchenette at one end of the small living-room. When my publisher or my agent were in town they sometimes used the pull-out in the office, but they were the only ones to have used it.

As I said I led a pretty solitary life. I knew the couple who shared the floor in a similar apartment, but although I could recognize the other tenants in the building, I didn’t know their names or what they did. The same held true for me, as I lived in anonymity they couldn’t know that I was a well known author, unless they had seen a televised interview or attended talks I had given at libraries across the country. So far none of my neighbors had figured me out. Occasionally, while out shopping or spending time out on the common walking or jogging, someone would approach and inquire if I was who they thought I was, and I’d usually disappoint them and explain I just looked like him. I just wasn’t into seeking attention where I lived. Out of town, or in New York on business was another story. I would sign autographs and chat with fans. It was getting close to noon by now and I got up from the small table and returned to my bedroom to dress. After dressing I was still pumped and decided to bite the bullet and make contact with the one family member I still corresponded with, my Aunt Sally. She was my godmother and now in her late sixties.

When I came out to my family when I was home from college for Spring break in my sophomore year my parents disowned me and threw me out of the house with just my backpack. I think they were afraid I’d infect some of my younger brothers or something. I was nineteen and had nowhere to go, no one to run to, except Aunt Sally. She greeted me warmly and assured me my parents were complete idiots and that she loved me. My parents never cut off my college funds, I think that was because Sally had informed them, when she retrieved my other belongings the next day, that she had contributed most of the funds and I had put in the rest with earnings from my after school jobs during high-school. She had never married and she and I had settled into a comfortable life when I was home from college. We really enjoyed our times together and she was the one who cheered me on when I received my diploma upon graduation. It was she who had given me the first, last and security for the apartment in which I still lived and when I tried to repay her after I started working in the Boston Public Library she refused to accept it, saying that what she had fronted me was my graduation present. When I called her later she had just come home from her work at the main library on the campus of Mount Holyoke College, in our hometown of South Hadley, some 90 miles west of Boston.

During high school she had finagled me after school work there and we would work together in the afternoons, she teaching me about cataloging and shelving and other necessities of running a large college library. Every summer and vacation at college meant me spending time in that imposing structure or any one of the six or seven satellite libraries strewn across the campus. During this working arrangement she insisted I call her Sally as did most of the other employees under her care, and I do so still today. We talked for about an hour and we settled on my driving out to spend the weekend with her, there I would sit with her and explain my secret life, that as a successful author and multimillionaire.

With those plans now made I decided to stop in at my local brokerage house to bring my personal financial adviser up to date and see exactly where I currently stood financially. I called first to make sure he was available and when I told him he’d have more of my money to play with soon he encouraged me to come on by, I told him I could be there in about a half hour and he agreed to set aside some time for me. I grabbed two coffees from the deli on the corner and at the end of the next block I entered the lobby of the brokerage firm. I informed the receptionist I was there to see Harold and she buzzed his office and then told me to go right up, I was expected. Harold’s secretary greeted me warmly and told me to go right in. Harold was rising from his desk chair to greet me as I came in and while we exchanged greetings I handed him the coffee procured for him. I looked him over good, since I hadn’t seen him personally in months and he looked like he hadn’t changed much since I first met him when my first book sold just over 5 years ago, when I had just finished my junior year of college. He always reminded me of the character Buddy from the old Dick Van Dyke TV show. Short, a little plump, receding hairline, affable and endearing, like the uncle I never had.

I filled him in on the new film contract and provided an extra copy of it I had printed from my computer after receiving signed faxed copies from my agent this morning. We went over my current accounts and I told him I was quite pleased with the way my stocks and accounts were currently doing under his guidance and we discussed what he would be doing with the additional funds he would be receiving the next week. As I was preparing to leave he handed me copies of my statements and then asked if I would be interested in investing in more real estate, something I had done a few years back when he had steered me toward a parcel of land by the turnpike exit in Western Mass., in Chicopee (near my old hometown) which had been sold to the developer of a strip mall, and I had made a small fortune on it. I told him that if it turned out like the last time to go ahead, but I didn’t want to hold onto undeveloped land for a long time.

We parted and I returned to the market and did some shopping on the way home, chuckling to myself as I did because the accounts already showed just over 15 million, not including the new film rights contract. I splurged and bought a steamed lobster, something I usually saved for special occasions, and today was one of those, I supposed tomorrow (Friday) could be one too, when I drove out to visit Aunt Sally for the weekend, so while in the market I placed an order for a couple of steamed lobsters chilled and I could pick them up on my way out of town. I dropped my shopping off at my apartment, again wondering if I shouldn’t look around for a condo to buy. Not that I needed the space, but there were times that being in the small apartment made me feel slightly claustrophobic, usually after a long spell at the keyboard, pounding out another chapter or two and needing to stretch and pace a bit. For now I settled on retrieving my medium-sized suitcase from the storage locker on the basement level and dusted it off as I went back to my apartment.

I packed for the weekend, hoping to leave about 9:45 in the morning, arriving at Sally’s about noon, chilled lobsters in hand. I arrived at her house, just three blocks from the imposing wrought iron gates of the main entrance to Mount Holyoke college, at 11:45 and was greeted warmly by my aunt. She looked suspiciously at the small cooler I carried and then I could tell she had worked it out in her head and she asked me what we were celebrating. I chuckled as we went through to the kitchen and popped open the cooler and showed her the two chilled and cooked two pound lobsters and she cooed with joy, her curiosity now aroused and she told me it had to be great news if I had sprung for the good stuff, as she hustled about gathering claw crackers and lobster pics and setting a fresh salad on the kitchen table, while I chuckled and agreed it would indeed be good news as I set the table and poured us each a goblet of a chilled white wine.

As we cracked, picked, and otherwise removed the delicious meat from the lobster shells I filled in Sally about what had started as a term paper for an English Lit. course, and had turned into my first published novel, the summer of my Junior year, published under the pseudonym Robert Scott. She dropped her current utensil on the table, staring open mouthed at me, gasping out, “You didn’t, you couldn’t, you’re my favorite modern author, why didn’t you tell me?” I chuckled at her reactions and answered her questions as best I could. I explained that I had started writing novels as a way to pass the time in college and that after the second had sold to a film studio, about the time I was being interviewed for the position at the Boston Public Library, I was more concerned with getting my first full time job than I was with anything else. The writing was a way to occupy my time, keeping myself entertained in my solitary existence, giving myself a creative outlet. I told her how funny I felt cataloging my own work at the Library and that for the last year and a half I had been traveling, doing book signings and sometimes speaking at library gatherings after resigning my job.

Sally told me she had requested me from my agent several times and had been told Mr. Scott wasn’t available each time. She asked why I had inverted my names and I told her that I was too embarrassed to use my own name and I wanted a name I could remember, so Scott Roberts became Robert Scott, in print. Sally was very receptive and then she asked why I was telling her now. I told her about my successes and that now I felt I had achieved a certain amount of security, in fact I had come here today to pick her brain. I returned her questioning gaze with, what I hoped was my most sincere one and began to tell her that there wasn’t anyone, other than my agent and my publisher, who I admired and trusted as much as I did her. That she had taken me in when my life was at it’s lowest and she had taught me so much over the years, how to hold my head up, work and study habits I still used today in my writing, how to ignore the barbs of the uneducated and the bigoted, and most importantly, how to stand up for myself. I told her that she had been more of a parent to me since she took me in than either of my birth parents had ever been, that since I now could afford it I wanted to grant her her most desired wish.

With that I reached into my shirt pocket and removed the envelope there, handing it to her. Inside was an itinerary for a European tour of the great libraries of Europe and Great Britain, returning at the end of two months to Washington DC, and a private two day tour of the Library of Congress. There was also a personal check from me to cover any and all expenses. 1 million dollars. The trip was for 2, as I knew she would like to have her friend Gladys with her. I told her she would leave in one months time, when the current college semester was done, and before Summer classes started on campus. I assured her I had cleared all with her higher up at the College for both her and Gladys (who was the circulation manager at the college’s main library). She sat there, clutching my hand across the table, tears streaming down her cheeks, but with a big smile on her face. She started to protest that the gifts were too, too much, but I told her there was much, much more where that came from and that what she didn’t use on the trip she could use to augment her retirement income when she finally did retire from her job. Invested right she could travel as much as she wanted in her remaining good years, and live quite comfortably for the rest of it.

Clipped to the check was one of Harold’s business cards and a note on it that he would be in the area next week to sit with her and help her get all her financials in order before her trip even began. I then took a napkin and helped her dry her happy tears and then told her to go wash up and then give Gladys a call. While she was doing that I cleaned up the kitchen and disposed of the shells and then went in and listened in as Sally filled in Gladys about the trip. It sounded to me like they were planning their honeymoon. I suppose I should tell you that I had Aunt Sally and Gladys figured out by the time I was a freshman in high school. It was about the same time I had figured out myself. I had always wanted the closeness and friendship they showed each other, and I can remember my parents trying to limit my time spent with her.

She and I would talk on the phone a couple of evenings a week and on Saturday or Sunday I would go over and help her out in the big yard behind her house. Help her is quite accurate, as she enjoyed working in the yard and garden beds as much as I. We weren’t quiet gardeners, we spent hours talking about everything and anything, she was the first person I had told that I thought I was gay. She had counseled me to keep my thoughts to myself, not to let other family members know of my inclinations, especially my parents. She told me they had their suspicions about her but there was little they could say, as she was the one to help them purchase their home, not a mile away, when they were expecting me and were living in a crummy one bedroom walk up apartment across the river in Holyoke, where my father was from.

My coming out to them during Spring break during my sophomore year in college was fueled totally by frustration and anger. I had not found that special person to lose my virginity to, and my 3 younger brothers had been watching a sitcom on TV that had a gay character in it. They were laughing along with the show and my father put down his beer and started to rant about their enjoyment of the show and about what a piece of crap show it was and about how all fags should be exterminated, and how he didn’t want his kids being exposed to the gay agenda, especially in his own home. And my totally dominated mother piped in to agree with him. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, my homophobic father had a parrot, and it was my own mother!

I couldn’t hold it back any longer so I shooed the boys to their room and turned on my father and told him and my mother off in no uncertain terms, and they in turn called me every name under the sun and my father even tried to strike me, but after all the training I had done in the weight room at high school and college I guess I might have intimidated him just a little and he responded by kicking me out of the house, not even giving me enough time to pack a bag, I just grabbed my backpack that I had left by the door and drove my old beater over to Aunt Sally’s where I knew I’d be welcome. I’ve had no contact with anyone in my immediate family since then. I have remembered my brother’s birthdays, and have sent them cards and gifts at Christmas as well, all through Aunt Sally. She, in turn, has kept me abreast of their doings all along, but none of my siblings has approached me because of our parents, and the boy’s fear that they also would be kicked out of their home.

Sally has talked to me a great deal about this and I can certainly see their side of things. Where I could I would give Sally money to help out the boys, money for Summer camps, school field trips, extra money for school clothes, graduation presents from one grade to the next. All through Aunt Sally. Sally had finished her talk with Gladys, and I encouraged her to invite Gladys to have dinner with us up the street at a fine college pub that we frequented often and was next door to the modern apartment building Gladys lived in, within walking distance for all of us, so a good place to celebrate. We met there, about 6 pm and were seated right away in the main room. I couldn’t be in there without thinking of a school pal I had starting in intermediate school, right through high school. He was the best friend I had ever had, and I admit I had the biggest crush on him all the time. He was exceedingly straight and he was the one who got me started jogging and working out with weights back when we were puny freshmen. I would tutor him and he took over my body, molding it into the body of a man, not to be trifled with, so the bookish nerd wouldn’t be an object of ridicule by the neanderthals. His parents owned the general store that the pub now occupied and the beams and room layouts were exactly the same as then. He went on to a career in the Air Force and at some point married and then divorced his high school sweetheart, got married again and had a family with the new wife. I never saw him after our high school graduation. I often wonder if he has kept working out and what he’d be like as a grown up, I hope he has remained the kind and considerate person he was in school.

We enjoyed a very pleasurable meal and every so often a student or faculty member or co-worker would stop by the table and converse with Sally and/or Gladys. They in turn would always introduce me as Sally’s nephew, preserving my secret identity. Dinner over we returned to Sally’s where we discussed their trip and, with my permission, Sally revealed my literary identity to Gladys, thus explaining how the trip had come about. She was thrilled for us all and she was then asked by Sally if they could really make the trip their honeymoon. Gladys grabbed Sally in a very loving hug and asked if she was sure and was ready to proclaim their love to all and sundry. Sally told her it was about time, they had been in love for over twenty years and if anyone disapproved they could lump it, including the college, they could afford to retire now and with my gift it would make sense to do it while they were both healthy enough to enjoy themselves.

That settled, they then discussed when to exchange their vows. They called the chaplain at the college and told her they would like a small service sometime in the next month and she recommended the Saturday afternoon in two weeks time, they both looked to me and asked if that was alright with me and of course I agreed, then with the date set they then asked if I would stand up for them both, that they didn’t want bridesmaids or anyone to walk them down the aisle, I would stand just behind them and represent both of them. They agreed to let me hire the caterer from the college’s inn to prepare and serve a lavish afternoon tea after the ceremony, thus making sure all guests had departed by dinner time. The ladies then sat to settle on a guest list while I phoned the inn to make arrangements with the caterer. Thankfully they were able to provide tables and chairs suitable for the backyard and they agreed to do the clean up after. I spent a pleasant weekend with them and drove myself back to Boston on Monday morning.

We had agreed that only those two would know of my writing at that point, we had discussed it and I told the two of them that I wanted to wait until my youngest brother graduated high school before letting anyone else in on my secret. He was a junior so it was only one more school year. I had previously set up trust funds for each brother, and if they wanted to attend college they could do so, as Sally had oversight over the trusts and could disperse the funds as needed. All that the boys had been told was that Sally had connections and had procured scholarships for the two already attending UMASS in Amherst, the next town over, and according to Sally doing very well. The three boys were to be invited to the ceremony and reception, but she couldn’t bring herself to include my parents, her younger sister and her husband. I spent the next two weeks working on a new book, cleaning house, buying a new suit for the wedding, and holding a writer’s workshop at the main branch of the Boston Public Library, where I was once employed.

The workshops were something relatively new and I hadn’t done one before on my home turf, so the attendees got Scott Roberts instead of Robert Scott, acclaimed novelist. It all went quite well though. I’d led seminars and computer training courses during my employment at the library and I did have a handle on the writing game, even if the attendees didn’t have written proof of that in front of them. Tuesday of the second week I received a call from Sally, asking if I could possibly do the happy couple a huge favor. They wanted to ask if I would stay at their house while they were away. Gladys had already moved into the house and the ladies didn’t want to leave the house empty for two months and two weeks.

They thought they had a house sitter lined up, but the student’s plans had changed, thus their request to me. I told them I’d be delighted to, that I hadn’t scheduled anything for the summer months, other than a few overnights here or there, but nothing that would impede my house sitting duties. Actually I was going great guns on the new book and I can write anywhere, as long as I kept to my writing regimen and had my notebooks and laptop. I can always workout at the college gym, or go to one of the many fitness centers, affiliated with my gym in Boston, that were in the area. So it was set, when I arrived for the wedding I would stay with the ladies, perform my duties at the chapel, host the reception, stay one more night, and return to Boston on Sunday. Two weeks from then I would return to take up my house sitting duties and stay in their home for 2 months and just over 2 weeks. I had checked with my agent and he had already cleared my Summer schedule, but there would be a busy Fall to make up for all the placid Summer days.

Everything went as planned, the chapel was beautiful anyway, but decked out with gobs of fresh flowers it was stunning. The place was full, I mean there was standing room only! There wasn’t any traditional music played on the massive old organ, instead the organist played the college’s song for the processional and the march up the aisle, after the vows, was just like in the movie Love Actually. I had contacted the music department and arranged for several student musicians to be scattered through the room, mingling with the attendees, and a female soloist to sing to the very happy couple as they made their way to the front doors through the clapping throng of students, faculty, staff and friends invited. I drove my aunts to their house where we were greeted by the caterer and his staff, and we formed a small receiving line at the side entrance to the back yard, welcoming the guests for the reception. Quite a few of the Library staff I knew from my frequent stints there during vacations and school holidays. More than ¾ down the line were three very good looking young men.

They were all blushing like crazy and were nervously chatting with the Dean of students and her husband who were just ahead of them in line and a couple of the female student volunteers from the Library who were behind them. The closer they got the more nervous they, and I, became. These were my brothers, who I’d been separated from for 8 years. As I finished greeting the Dean and her husband I felt myself engulfed in a massive 4 way hug, tears streaming down our cheeks. Tears of joy, tears of regret, tears of lost chances, tears of rejoicing in our being together in one place again. The Aunts saw all this and through their own tears the smiled and caressed our backs and shoulders, urging us to continue our reunion, but maybe inside the house would be more private for us. So into the large formal living room we went. We got close to caught up in a short amount of time.

Harry was 20 and was finishing his sophomore year at UMASS Amherst where James was finishing his freshman year at 18. Our youngest brother, Thomas, was 16 and finishing his junior year of high school. We exchanged hugs and went back outside to the reception tea and I asked the boys if they could join us for dinner after and Harry said that they had told the folks they were spending the day at a nearby recreation park with a group of friends and they probably wouldn’t be home until very late so all was well, we weren’t going to dinner anywhere we’d be likely to run into our parental units or anyone they knew.

We were seated with our aunts at a head table and the boys were all in a very good mood and showed their love for both of them, along with a lot of teasing about waiting over 30 years to make sure they were really meant for each other! As predicted the crowd started to dwindle after 4pm and by 6 only the caterers and we 6 remained. We then went inside and used the restrooms and the ladies removed their corsages to preserve them and we then went out to Sally’s SUV and I drove us all to dinner at a very nice restaurant in neighboring Amherst.

We had a really nice meal and had a wonderful time getting to know each other again. After dinner we returned to Sally and Gladys’ home and the guys changed out of their suits and put on casual clothes for their return home. I had told them I’d be house sitting here while the ladies were away on their trip and we all agreed to get together during that time. We hugged our goodbyes and the boys returned home and I went to my third floor rooms (a converted attic that Sally had renovated into a bedroom, a bath, and a small study when I moved in with her after I had been kicked out of my parents home) after wishing the ladies a good night and my best wishes for their union. They thanked me profusely for all I had done and we called it a night and I went up and made myself comfortable in my old digs.

I thought a lot that night, about how I felt about my reunion with my brothers (ecstatic!!!), about the wedding ceremony (if truth be told, jealous!!), about coming home here to stay for a little over 2 months (scared, but I couldn’t decide why, after all I hadn’t spent that much time here since college vacations, and I wasn’t alone then, Sally was always here then and I had temp work at the library to occupy me) but I reasoned that I had my book to work on, I knew the neighborhood and the neighbors, I knew where the shops were, yes, I’d have to drive everywhere, no trams or subways in this small New England college town, but I’d be able to explore and see things and places I remembered from years ago, some I had used in my books.

Needless to say, it was some time before I fell asleep, but it was a good sleep, and I awoke reaching for one of my notebooks to quickly jot down some notes from dreams or remembrances before I forgot them. I do this quite often and find these notes can lead to either a new novel or they can help flesh out the storyline in a work in progress. I then used the bathroom and then dressed and went down to start breakfast. I had intended to make breakfast for the three of us, but when I got down to the kitchen I found instead the ladies had already done so. We shared an enjoyable meal, agreed to meet again in two weeks time so I could drive them to the airport and they could begin their journey.

Once again I returned to my solitary existence, not entirely unhappy to do so. It was a lot of people to deal with in such a short amount of time. The joy of seeing my aunt wed and knowing my actions had been a catalyst to the proceedings was gratifying to say the least, and the extreme pleasure of being reunited with my brothers was the icing on the cake, so to speak. Two days later I received a request for a meet and greet with a small speech to a group of fans and expectant writers at the main branch of the New York Public Library. It seems their scheduled author had been arrested and detained while in Mexico over the weekend, and they were in dire need of a replacement.

They thought that since my last appearance there had gone so well and that I was relatively close, I might be able to do this for them. I phoned my agent right away and told him I had received his email and that I would do the appearance. He thanked me and said he’d notify the library right away so they could change their advertising and hopefully get more of my interested readers to attend on such short notice. All went well with my visit to the Big Apple and to my surprise there were hundreds of my loyal readers in attendance.

I had a great time talking to my readers, sometimes I found myself writing something and I’d think about something a reader mentioned and it could enhance or completely change what I was about to write down in my story. This was another instance where having a notebook close by came in handy. Both a publisher’s rep and an assistant to my agent came by and we talked together for about 20 minutes during one of my breaks and I reminded them both about no bookings for the Summer and both chuckled that they had been warned, but also that I’d have a fairly busy Fall. When I returned to Boston I realized, sitting on the train, that several times during the day I had been getting hit on. I know, call me slow, but it finally dawned on me that if I had had a chance to get to know the men better, I might have finally got laid. I prefer to think of it as a bad case of arrested development, or badly malfunctioning gaydar, or in this case delayed reaction.

At any rate by the time the train arrived in Boston I had worked myself up to being especially horny, which doesn’t happen to me often, so on my way home I stopped at my favorite dirty book store to see if there was anything new there that might satisfy me tonight. There is a prurient delight in any book store, but dirty books can sometimes arouse you just by looking at the covers. I was browsing in the gay book section when I noticed the clerk restocking the gay DVD shelves. When he finished I strolled over and found 3 that piqued my interest and I took them to the counter and purchased them from the mildly interested clerk. He attempted to appear interested in the sale but neither his, nor my, heart just wasn’t in it.

After dinner that evening, and having gotten settled back in I took myself to the bedroom to screen the new DVD s. I’d hoped to find at least one scene in each with which to get off to to make their purchase worthwhile, and to my pleasure I was ready to pop for the first time during the end of the first movie. I slowed the fast forward to the regular speed as the last scene opened and a tall, muscular coach entered his weight room and confronted two somewhat muscular students and the scene evolved with the students nursing on their coach’s prominent nips and progressing downward to his rather large cock, licking, sucking, and nursing on it as one of them moved to the rear and spreading those tight glutes he proceeded to eat the coach’s ass like he hadn’t eaten in a week. The coach then returned the favor by bending both students over a low pommel horse and rimming them both and then breeding them both for what seemed like an hour each. Both students showed their appreciation by coming hands free while being bred and by cleaning off the cock that had bred them with their mouths at the same time. Coach liked that a lot and came again in their mouths to show his gratitude. He then took them into the gang shower room and proceeded to wash them well, so when he bred them again there they’d be all slippery and any excess cum would wash down the drain.

I felt very relaxed after my second eruption while watching all the muscles at play in the movie, and considered this first one a good buy. The others would have to wait for another time. I awoke refreshed, although a little later than I usually do. There wasn’t much to do until my muse hit me so I had a coffee while reading the paper and then went to the Public Garden and after stretching, completed my usual 5 mile jog/run before going to the gym and torturing myself with the lower body workout I missed the other day because of the trip to NY.

I threw in a few upper body routines just to keep everything tight and sore for the next few hours. As I was leaving I noticed a copy of my latest novel on the reception desk, and my trainer was there signing people in and out. Ben looked up and said that he’d checked me off the list and then tapped the book and asked if I had ever read any of Robert Scott’s books and that he really enjoyed how the author included people of all walks of life and the tribulations and trials they dealt with in their lives. I responded that indeed, I was familiar with his works and Ben then said that with the similarity of our names he didn’t doubt it, and wondered which one I liked best. I replied that I always had liked the first one, but I always enjoyed finishing the new ones. I told Ben that I had heard someplace that the new one, due out in the early fall, had already been sold to a movie studio. Ben grinned at that and said he’d be sure to look for the book and no doubt would enjoy the next movie as much as the previous ones. We exchanged farewells and I said I’d see him soon, then I remembered my house sitting duty, to start the next week. I asked Ben if he could recommend a gym in the area I was going to be staying in, hopefully one that had reciprocity with this gym. He went on the company computer there at the desk and in a few moments he came to me with a printout of about 10 gyms, there was one in So. Hadley, right in the shopping area off the Village Common, across from the college entrance. He pointed out that that one was new, and he heard that a lot of the college crowd used that one, or the one 15 miles away up in Amherst. I thanked him for the list and told him I’d see him before I left.

I returned home and prepared a light lunch and cleaned up after it. While in the shower I remembered that on one of the new DVD s that I hadn’t watched there was, according to the cover, a gang shower scene in a gym. I started to chub up so I rinsed off and towel dried and went to the bedroom to investigate disc #2. The new disc was just as entertaining as the first.

Several well muscled men and teens were working out in the gym, with the older hotties lending an instructive hand to the younger set. Everything from the proper positions doing curls to how to squat on a really hard bare dick. The boys lapped up the instructions while the older hunks encouraged them with a lot of anal tongue lashings and stiff ones to help the youngsters maintain an erect position during all the exercises performed in groups of 2,3,and 4. The gang shower scene provided several guys the opportunity to make sure their shower buddy was completely clean, inside and out.

After my bit of afternoon delight and a quick relaxing shower I was able to knock off 2 more chapters on my new book. I even remembered to leave a forwarding notice with the postman for my extended stay at home. I also left a note for the couple down the hall, informing them that I could be reached by phone (cell) or e-mail and my expected return date. Since we were the only tenants on this floor we had always tried to let the other know of any extended leaves for security reasons. That done I was left with cleaning out the fridge and doing laundry so I could pack after the gym the day after tomorrow and leave for the aunts the following morning.

The drive that Friday on the turnpike went smoothly, the weather was great and the traffic was minimal, just the way I liked it. I exited in Holyoke and drove through it’s northern end to reach the bridge for route 202 and took the first exit after the bridge over rt 116, Newton Street. I traveled north up 116 and within minutes I arrived at my destination, the big old house on the hill, just a short walk from the campus and the shops alongside the town common. The house was a very large Victorian with enclosed porches and a turret. The grounds were extensive in the rear, but the front and side sat way above the road and offered great views from the side rooms of the house. My rooms on the third floor had a couple of dormers and from them I could look down and see almost to the Connecticut river. I could also see my parents house three blocks away, just past the intermediate and grade schools.

When I was still in college I could have spied on them, if I had had a telescope, but now the intervening trees had matured and it was only the roof I could see. There really was no need to snoop anymore, the only people I wanted to see from that house were my brothers and I had cell numbers for each programmed in my phone and with care we could talk whenever we wanted, in fact, we were supposed to get together on Sunday for dinner, just us four brothers. The aunts greeted me warmly, and insisted on taking me to dinner at Dockside, a great restaurant, riverside, at a distant cousin’s marina at the edge of what used to be countryside in our small town, but had a few newer developments on former fields and pastures. We had a great time and during dessert a middle aged couple and their college aged daughter stopped by my chair and quietly asked for my autograph. They were being so polite and unobtrusive that I felt obligated to do so, the aunts already knew of my alias and what I had achieved with it, so I obliged them and signed the proffered napkins for them. The aunts got a kick out of it and I explained that in my own home state I usually didn’t acknowledge fans, but they were so polite about it, and they were from another state, just picking up their daughter at the end of the semester. We thought that was the end of it but as we prepared to get up from the table my distant cousin Frank, the marina owner, rose from his bar stool at the other end of the dining area and made his way over to us. He wasn’t drunk, but he wasn’t entirely sober either. He shook my hand and greeted my aunts and then asked what was up with the autographs he had seen me signing. I knew he couldn’t have heard what was said, so I just told him they thought I was someone famous and so I made them happy by giving them the signatures. He laughed and said he’d probably do the same himself. I told him it was good to see him again, and that I’d be around for a few months so I’d probably see him around sometime soon. He responded likewise and the aunts and I left for home. Sally and I had to fill in Gladys about Frank being quite a bit older than me and he was the son of my father’s only male cousin, who had died a few years ago, leaving the marina to Frank. As far as I knew Frank himself had a son who would be about 20 or 21 now and that Frank’s wife had run off about 10 or twelve years ago, leaving Frank and his son Caleb to fend for themselves. The next day, Saturday, I dropped the ladies off at the airport for the first leg of their journey and as I returned I stopped at a large grocery in Springfield to stock up and do some special shopping for the dinner with my brothers. I drove home and remembered to check the mailbox on my way in.

The mail was all for the ladies, but there was one envelope for me. It was from Harold and it was information on a farm on the outskirts of Amherst, abutting the boundary with my hometown. It was about 100 acres and had several newer buildings on it as there had been a bad fire there 7 years ago and the owners had rebuilt the main house, the foreman’s cottage and two barns and the chicken coop. There was a small pond on the property and Harold thought if I purchased it, made a few improvements, like solar power and connected to town sewer and water, he might be able to market it to UMASS as a division of their agricultural program. He said in the cover letter that the owners were in no hurry, but were open to an offer. He told me that he had spoken to them and they were agreeable to having me come look over the place while I was in the area. I’d always liked the area this farm was in, rolling fields, orchards, pumpkin patches, roadside stands. Beautiful views of the Mount Holyoke mountain range, and wonderful cross country skiing and sledding in the Winter. I thought it might make a good investment so I left the letter and the enclosed real estate listing fact sheets on top of the desk with my laptop in the little study on my floor of this house.

By now it was mid afternoon and I felt in need of a run. I changed into running gear, stashed my phone, wallet, and keys in my fanny pack and went outside to start my warm up exercises. As I was about ready to take off my cell rang and I retrieved it and found my brother Harry on the other end. He asked if he was interrupting anything and I said no, I was just about to set off on a jog and he asked for how far and I told him about five miles, to the marina and back and he said he was up on the common and would like to join me and he’d see me in about 10 minutes when I passed the common on my way. I agreed, already heading in the direction and then returned the phone to the pack and took off up the road.

I spotted Harry before he saw me, he was talking to someone about his own age as they both appeared to be warming up to join me. I took in that both young men were quite fit, and really good looking. The passing female students certainly noticed, and some of the male ones as well. There was a public works truck at the end of the common, repairing some of the benches scattered along the walkways of the common. Several of the workers were talking with Harry and his companion, their bantering friendly and joyous. As I neared the young man with Harry noticed my arrival and he stood upright and just stared at me. By the time I reached them it was obvious he had grown a chubby looking at me approaching, and to be honest, he was having a bit of the same affect on me. He was quite fit and his singlet was molded to his prominent chest and his washboard abs could be counted through the material. His running shorts were worn over the singlet, but the growing bulge could not be ignored. I could tell he was uncut just by looking. Harry wasn’t any slouch either and he smiled widely as he saw me approaching. He came forward and clasped my hand and told me it was good to see me, and that he hoped I’d be able to keep up with them. He then introduced me to Caleb, one of his friends he rode to college with during the school week. I turned to shake Caleb’s hand and told him it was great to see him again.

He looked startled, and asked what I meant, he couldn’t remember meeting me before. I told him his father was a second or third cousin on my father’s side and when I was about five or six I met him (as an infant) at the marina one day, and later, while I was in high school just about every time we went to the marina I’d let him tag along and help me fish, either from one of the docks or from the riverbanks. He looked up at me and said he was sorry he didn’t recognize me, but I certainly hadn’t looked this good, or big back then. Harry walked up then and told me that during the last summer he and Caleb had worked with this town works crew and he wanted me to meet them. We all walked over and Harry (proudly) introduced me to the men from the work crew, one of whom I had known in high school. He commented that I must still be weight training and he suggested that I go to his gym while I was in town, the gym here at the shops at the common. I told Jeff I had already made sure it was connected to my gym in Boston, and that I was sure I’d see him there at some point, he said he hoped so, eying me up and down scratching his left pec with his right hand as he did so. We said our goodbyes and started our run, not having cooled off too badly. We made good time and during our run I occasionally would drop back and admire Caleb’s perfect bubble butt and I know he did the same a few times to me also. Harry was one of those guys who liked to talk and run. He told me that even though Caleb had been ahead of him in high school he had always gone out of his way to be friendly and to include him in any activities he or his friends were involved with, like attending home or away games for the baseball, basketball or football teams, going to the mall in Holyoke to hang out, or just kicking around with a bunch of friends at one of their homes or pools.

When we reached the marina we decided to grab water bottles and it was while we were hydrating that Frank, Caleb’s father, walked up to us. He shook hands all around and then teased Caleb by asking how he liked running with his old fishing buddy. Caleb blushed as his father told me that every time I let Caleb fish with me all he’d hear for days after was Scott this and Scott that. We all chuckled at that and Harry, who had often gone fishing with me, said It was certainly an education fishing with me, as I knew about all the different kinds of fish, where to find them, and what to use as bait. We stretched again, as some of our return had some pretty steep hills, and departed the marina and made a rather circuitous return to route 116 and the big house on the hill. Once home I offered the others water or another cool drink and Harry excused himself, saying he had to return home to get cleaned up, he had a dinner date with his girlfriend and he’d best not be late.

I told Caleb I could drop him off at home later if he wanted so he agreed to stay and Harry went off to pick up his car which he had left in the parking lot of the shops at the common, a short walk or jog up the street. Caleb and I cooled off out back and I went inside and snagged 2 beers. We talked for a while, and, still warm, I removed my tank top. I heard a sharp intake of breath and Caleb just sat there staring at my very developed upper body. I thought he had started to drool, but maybe it was just a little beer foam at the corner of his mouth.

Whatever it was I was tempted to go over to him and lick it off. What I did do was to scoot my lounge chair closer to his and when I sat back down I let myself stretch out a bit and flexed my abs and pecs. I wasn’t new to flirting, but I was hot for this younger stud. It was a hot day and we had run for over five miles and damn it, I was horny! And pumped. I found Caleb extremely attractive, muscular but built on a smaller scale than I was, his skin was unblemished, the package he was displaying was a real good size, and the way he looked at me with those green eyes and his sandy hair all mussed from the heat and our run, he was, I thought, just what I had been waiting for, if he was as versatile as I hoped he was.

I suggested, a little hoarsely, that he remove the singlet, and just wear his running shorts, that he would cool off faster that way. He asked if I minded if he did it right there and I told him it was up to him, the yard had no sight lines to any other house and I told him that if he went into the house to change then I couldn’t watch. The smile I received was worth a million dollars. I did think to tell him something first. I told him I found him extremely attractive, and I kind of picked up that he felt the same about me, but I was honest and told him I had been waiting, since high school, and my parents found gay porn on my computer and banished me from their house, to find the right person to experience man to man sex with and that I hoped I hadn’t just scared him away, but I was hoping for a lifetime lover, a soul mate, that I didn’t believe in sleeping around, I wanted someone I could spent my life with. He stood between our two loungers, looking down at me and said that he felt the same. He was tempted at the huge campus for UMASS that he attended, that the one time he had traded blow jobs with someone in their dorm he was crushed when the guy didn’t seem to want another “date” with him, so he hadn’t tried again.

He felt now that he’d known me all his life, he was extremely attracted to me, and he was prepared to be as versatile as he could to make sure we both had a fantastic sex life. With that he removed his running shoes and socks, dropped his running shorts, and allowed me to see his hard cock, barely restrained by the Lycra of his singlet. He turned and I could see the muscles of his glutes fight against the restraint of his singlet. He reached up to the straps as he slowly turned around, and by the time he was facing me again the peeled down singlet was to his knees, giving me an unobstructed view of his now fully erect cock, pointed right at me, his hairless balls, slapping his large, very muscled thighs. As I gazed upon him a drop of precum formed at the slit of his cock head, now fully exposed from his foreskin. God, he was beautiful. He kicked off his singlet and reached for his running shorts and held them out towards me, asking, without speaking, if he should put them on.

All I did, since I couldn’t form words at that moment, was to hold out my arms and smiled up at him. He came to me, naked as the day he was born, and I found myself trying to devour him with my mouth. The only thing that saved him from being totally devoured was that he in turn was trying to take inventory of my teeth with his tongue at the same time, in fact we tongue wrestled for some time until I decided that it just wasn’t fair that he could be undressed and I wasn’t. I took one of his hands and grabbed my tank top and his clothing and we went up to my rooms on the third floor.

We fell onto the bed and continued our explorations, by mouth and hands, on the rest of our well muscled bodies. I was just going to ask if I could rim him when he quietly asked if we could frot, he had read in gay stories that most couples started making love that way, so we did, with him reclining on my larger and longer body and as we started out slowly grinding ourselves against each other, the sweat we produces helped to lubricate our bodies and there didn’t appear to be any friction as we worked ourselves into a mind blowing orgasm. I held him tightly to me as he slid up a little and started nursing on my heaving pecs, bringing my large nipples to peaks that felt like the nipples on a baby’s bottle by the time we erupted, shooting onto each other several spurts of warm cum, which we had ground together to make a mixture of our emissions which we shared by scooping some up with our fingers and feeding each other our mixture.

We fell asleep like that, glued together, arms on each other’s sides, him using my hard chest as his pillow, his tongue, when he licked his lips, would caress my left nipple. I never felt so content or at peace in my life as I did in that moment. Caleb looked the same, sleeping like a baby at this moment in time. When we awoke about an hour later it was to the symphony of our stomachs rumbling. We chuckled as we smiled at each other, and I asked if he could stay for dinner, or longer. Caleb smiled down at me and whispered, “I’m in love with you, are you telling me you can cook also?” I assured him I could, and that I could wash as well and with that I picked him up and carried him into the shower in my bathroom and began to clean him head to toe. He proved to me he indeed had cleaning skills as well and we dried each other, stealing kisses when we could.

The kisses lasted while we both prepared dinner, and while we ate side by side at the kitchen table, bare legs and arms connecting with each mouthful. After cleaning up the kitchen Caleb asked if we could drive to his apartment to get clothes and his toiletries. I assured him it would be doable, and my pleasure, did he want to go in my little car or should we take Sally’s big SUV? We actually went in the car he had left in the parking lot at the commons. I had lent him a T shirt and underwear and he wore his jogging shorts so we strolled up to the common and gathered his car. His apartment was small, really no more than an efficiency, in the attic of a carriage house on the other side of rt 116 from Sally and Gladys and down a few blocks.

He told me it was offered to him by the widow of a patron of the marina’s, she felt safer with a male college student on the property, someone who had ties to the town, someone she had watched grow up. I encouraged Caleb to pack a medium sized suitcase and to let his landlady know he’d be gone for a while but if she needed him he was close and to call him on his cell phone. He went to the back door of her house and rang the bell there. She came to the door and I recognized her immediately, she had been my English teacher in high school, now retired for the last 4 years. Caleb greeted her and made to introduce us, but I side stepped Caleb and she came up to me and gave me a big hug. I said to Caleb, that we’ve known each other for many years, she inspired me in her English classes in high school and introduced me to great literature, she and Sally were the guides who brought me to where I am today.

Mrs. Fields was a true guide to my writing career and I was itching to tell just how successfully she had guided me, but when we made to leave she hugged me again and whispered to me that she had guessed my secret and was happy for my success. I was surprised to say the least, but I whispered back to her that I hadn’t told anyone else but Sally and Gladys yet, she winked at me, letting me know my secret was safe, but I knew I’d have to fess up soon, plus I didn’t think it wise to start a relationship with one partner not knowing the other is an unemployed librarian and a successful author. I resolved to correct that tonight, just in case it scared Caleb off.

I realized if I did tell Caleb it would also make sense to tell my brothers as well, they had proven to me they could handle it, after all it was my parents I had been hiding from all these years and my brothers hadn’t told them about reconnecting with me, and If they did I couldn’t see anything they could do or say that would make any difference now. When we had gotten Caleb settled in my room I took him by the hand and led him to the back patio, and the lounge chairs from earlier. I sat in one and pulled him in front of me, and he settled in front of me with his back to my front and I encircled him with my arms and told him I had a secret to tell him. I also told him I thought it was a good secret after I felt him stiffen in my arms. So I began to tell him how I began writing in college and why I kept it a secret, and how I had inverted my names to create Robert Scott and how now with the writing and movie deals, I was very successful. I told him that my brothers were going to have to be told soon and that I wanted him by my side when I did, and I wanted him there by my side every day of our lives.

He struggled loose in my arms and he lay with me chest to chest and kissed me asking me if we were engaged or something now. I loved it, being a prominent author was OK, but he wanted to know about us, and I knew then that I loved him, and that love would only grow. I responded that indeed, if he cared for me the way I cared for him, then yes, I think we are engaged. Our lovemaking that night was great and exciting. He let me rim him and I thought I’d died and went to heaven, he did apparently also and after about 10 minutes he begged me to fuck him, so I did, loosening him carefully and using lots of lube I made love to him, he came after I teased his prostate repeatedly and after about 30 or so strokes he was shooting between us as I ground into him while we were swapping spit and tongue dueling. We both dozed for a while and then when we awoke I encouraged him to penetrate me as well. I told him not to worry, like him I had often used a dildo on myself and I didn’t think I’d need a whole lot of prep, just use a lot of lube, and take it kind of slow at first. He did and we had the same results this time as before. We talked after and we agreed that there was initially a spark of pain upon entrance, but soon that was replaced by wonderful pleasure, a feeling of connection to the one we loved. It made for a wonderful nights sleep. In the morning Caleb asked when I was going to reveal all to my brothers and I replied that if it was alright with him why didn’t he call Harry and invite them to dine with us either tonight or whenever all three could come together.

He thought it was a good plan and he pulled out his cell and called Harry. They chatted for a while and I heard him say that he loved me. I also heard him say the feelings were reciprocated, but that wasn’t why he was calling and they went on to agree to coming for dinner as the parental units were going on a bus trip to the casino in Connecticut and wouldn’t be home until very late. When they arrived later that afternoon I was greeted with hugs as was Caleb, and all the boys had knowing looks on their faces. Sixteen year old Tom asked if I had anything to tell them? Since they knew I was gay, and that was why I had been expelled from the family, I knew what he was hinting at so I told them. Holding Caleb’s hand I told my brothers that I had found my love and that he had agreed to be my spouse, that we would be husbands, as soon as we worked out living arrangements since Caleb still had one more year at UMASS, and I wasn’t doing the long distance thing.

The guys were a little surprised, but I realized they didn’t know the rest of the story yet. So we sat around the kitchen table and I filled them in. I started with the story I wrote in college that got published and the following six novels and of course their success. The boys had all seen the four movies and one of my books had even been required reading in Jim’s freshman American Lit course this past Spring. I told them I had another book coming out in September and I’d have to do some traveling for interviews but that it would all be under the Robert Scott persona. Tom piped up and asked a question that I’m sure the others wanted to ask, but hadn’t. He asked if I was now rich and was that why I had resigned from my job.

I sat back in my chair and turned to Harry and Jim and asked how they were paying for college. The guys looked at each other surprised by the question and then Harry answered that they each had received a scholarship that covered everything. I responded that what they really got was funds from a trust fund I had set up for them with Aunt Sally as the executor and that there was one already set up for when Tom went to college, and that soon there would be one for Caleb, to help cover his last year and any post graduate work he wanted to do, just as their trusts did. I wasn’t rich I told them, I was wealthy, I just didn’t like to live like it. The four younger men just sat there with their mouths hanging open, until Harry and then all four of them engulfed me in a group hug and peppered me with cheek kisses and thanks, all except Caleb, he planted one on my lips with my brothers giggling behind us. He whispered to me I didn’t have to do that, that he could continue to work to pay his own way, and I responded by telling him that each hour he had to work meant an hour we couldn’t spend together. He gazed into my eyes and gave his head a nod, he understood where I was coming from.

The next question was from Jim, he wanted to know when we (Caleb and I) were getting hitched, and where we were going to live. Caleb took that one, saying that we wanted the aunts to be home for the ceremony and that we hadn’t had a chance to discuss living arrangements as yet. By the time we had finished dinner the brothers had run out of questions for each other, for the time being. We all said our good nights, and Caleb and I told them we’d get together again soon. After the boys took off we cuddled together on the couch in front of the TV and caught the late news and then closed up the downstairs and retired to the third floor rooms and had a rousing rumpy pumpy session, just so we’d have a good nights sleep mind you.

Monday morning over breakfast Caleb and I talked about the trust fund I was setting up for him and I asked him to plan on giving his notice for his Summer job he was to start next week. He sat at the table to write out his resignation and I went to my little study on the third floor and called Harold to get the ball rolling on this fourth trust fund covering all college expenses and a weekly allowance. Harold was glad to hear from me, but a little disappointed when I told him I hadn’t even driven past the property he had asked me to look at. I assured him I would do that soon and we concluded our call. I then located the property information and called the owners to see if Caleb and I could view the farm that afternoon. Mr. Snyder said that would be fine with both he and his wife and they’d look for us anytime after 1:30 pm. I thanked him and told him we’d see them shortly. By then Caleb had finished his letter and we faxed it from my machine in the study. We had a quick lunch and cleaned up after ourselves and then left for the farm.

The drive was up rt 116 over the mountain and down the other side and a sharp right into the countryside. If we had continued straight on 116 we would have ended up at the UMASS campus where Caleb and two of my brothers attended classes. We had passed Hampshire College and would have passed Amherst College had we continued straight. About a mile down the road we were on we saw the farm we were looking for, the mailbox on the left side of the road at the corner of the road and the paved drive into the property.

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