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Salisbury to San Diego
by Blucollar
My name is Anthony Michael Delaurentis. I am 18 and at the end of my senior year at Salisbury. Salisbury is a very expensive boarding school in Connecticut. Very expensive.
I was raised by my Mother, Silvia Delaurentis Thomas for the first 7 years of my life. That is when my Mother met my Step-Father Robert "Skip" Thomas. And that is when I started my tour of very expensive boarding schools.
See Robert was more of a Jet Setter. And while he fell head over heals for my very attractive Mother he did not see the benefit of having a seven year old tagging along for the wild ride.
Now my Grand-Parents were from old money, very old money, and lived on the North Shore of Long Island. That is where my Mother was raised. Now where did I come from you may ask. Well it's a sorted story, not one often discussed in front of company, but sorted non the less.
It seems that when my Mother was in High School, a public school believe it or not, she was a Cheerleader. Very pretty and very smart but not smart enough it seems. She was quite taken with the Quarterback of the football team. A Joseph Marino. Wrong side of the tracks, poorly educated, blue collar family, you know the sort. He was 17 and she was 16. They had a very quick love affair, against my Grand-Parent's approval of course, and she ended up pregnant with me. Off to a nunnery she was sent never to see Mr. Marino again. I was to be put up for adoption but once my Grand-Parents laid eyes on me they decided to talk my Mother into keeping me and raising me as their own son while she finished school. Unfortunately my Grandfather died in a plane crash when I was 4 and my Grand-Mother died of cancer when I was 6. So I was left in the hands of my Mother who had no instincts of motherhood at all at the age of 22.
At 23, after inheriting everything, she met Robert. Robert was quite wealthy himself at the ripe old age of 25. Inheriting a sizeable fortune from his Grand-Parents and would someday inherit even more money from his own Parents.
Robert and Silvia were two peas in a pod. Ultra rich and spoiled and neither one of them had the time for a seven year old bastard. So that is how I ended up in boarding schools and that is how it comes to pass that I feel very little emotion about the passing of my Mother and her husband. Both of whom I barely knew.
The car arrived and the driver hurried out to collect my things. As soon as he had everything stowed in the trunk he opened the rear door for me and I got in. Mr. Stanton was sitting there, looking as grim as ever, holding out his hand for a shake. I obliged and asked him how he was getting on. Mr. Stanton had been my main contact with my family all these years. Except for two Christmas' and a couple of summer vacations I never saw my "Parents". But Mr. Stanton had been there through thick and thin with me and now it seems he will be the only one to see me through this.
"Anthony, you look as fit as ever. Grown into a fine man." Mr. Stanton barked out. Seeming uncomfortable with the situation. I on the other hand was fine. Not shook up at all.
"Thank You Mr. Stanton. I am well. I'm a little torn about not being here for graduation but it seems pretty much unnecessary anyway. No one but you would be attending anyway. But my grades were quite satisfactory and will get me into any school I choose so all is not lost." I replied in a matter of fact tone.
"Well we will cover that all in New York. We should be there in a little over two hours and then we'll get you settled in the New York apartment and we'll discuss things there. So sit back and relax and doze off if you wish" Said Stanton.
"I might just do that Mr. Stanton." And I did.
The next thing I knew I saw the skyline of Manhattan outside my window. Mr. Stanton was lightly snoring. It was late afternoon.
The driver headed for my parents apartment on the upper east side. I gently woke Mr. Stanton when we were a few short blocks away. The driver pulled up to the building and the doorman hurried over. "Mr. Delaurentis, Mr.Stanton please accept my condolences, what a tragedy, I am very sorry."
"Thank You George" Mr. Stanton said. I nodded my appreciation.
"Will you be staying with us for good Mr. Delaurentis?" George inquired.
"Remains to be seen, George" Mr. Stanton answered for me. With that we continued into the building. We rode the elevator up to the penthouse and it opened right to the foyer of the apartment.
Mother had taken to a very modern decorating style and everything was white. Carpet, furniture, drapes, all white. Chrome accents. Very stark and uninviting.
We went to the study right away. At least this room was traditional. Still had mahogany bookcases and a large walnut desk. Mr. Stanton mixed himself a drink and offered me something but I declined. We then sat across from each other in leather wing backs by the fire place.
"Anthony, lets get right down to it shall we?" Mr. Stanton, grim as ever.
"Of course"
"Your parents, well, um, your Mother and Step-Father, were both very well off. Many times over. They did however have an arrangement of sorts. Financially. A pre-nuptial agreement. You know what that is of course."
"Yes, of course I do. Was it Skip's idea or Silvia's?"
"Actually it was your Mother's idea. See, Mr. Thomas' fortune was from his Grand Parents and he had not gotten any of his Parents money yet. And, although he still had plenty of his own money, your Mother had more, quite a bit more. So she had a contract drawn up at the beginning of the marriage ensuring that his family would never get any of the money if anything happened to the both of them. And if she had only died he would not see anything but a few real estate investments."
"O.K. So there is a lot of money and there is hardly any family. Where do we go from here?" I inquired.
"Well that brings us to the other stipulation. I'm afraid it's about you. Now don't let me alarm you, you do inherit the bulk of the estate, in due time."
"In due time? What does that mean?" I was perplexed.
"Your Mother, well, she has sort of made some goals up for you. In a way it was a sincere way of ...well. May I read the letter that was placed with the will several years ago. I think it would explain a lot."
"Of course, please, anything to help me understand her intentions more." I replied.
"Here it is, It starts:
Anthony, If you are hearing or reading this it means I am no longer able to be there with you. Not that I was ever really there for you and I know that was my fault. My immaturity and spoiled behavior has given you a very lonely life. I only hope that you have made many friends to make up for my lack of involvement. I may not have shown it but there is no one I have ever loved more that you my son. I know it seems hard to believe but it is true. My intentions for this letter are true and heartfelt. Before I allow the majority any funds to be released to you I ask that you seek out your Father. I have kept track of him through the years and I think you should have a relationship with him. Because if I am gone there is no one left and I know you would never have a relationship with Skip. So that is my wish. That you seek out your Father and you develop some sort of relationship with him. Mr. Stanton, or if he is not able, an associate will determine when you have completed this task. You will receive travel and living expenses but that is all. Please take this journey for me, for you. With much love, Mom.
As I sat there trying to absorb the letter Mr. Stanton began to give me the information.
"Anthony, your Father is a Joseph Marino. About 10 years ago he moved to southern California, San Diego. He owns a small garage where he practices as a mechanic. Never married, no other children. He is 35. It is up to you when we get started. Your Mother's instructions to me is that if you would rather finish school first all expenses pertaining to school will be taken care of but then you would just have to complete the task after. Would you like a chance to think about it, some time to go over things?"
"My instinct tells me that she would rather I take care of this sooner than later. So I should go to San Diego. What is the next step?"
"I figured you would feel that way. I have arranged a bungalow by the beach in Pacific Beach. I had the estate purchase it so that there would be no need for a lease or anything. Pacific Beach is where your Father's shop is. Your Father has not been contacted. In fact, your Father doesn't know that you were kept by your Mother. As far as he knows you were put up for adoption the minute you were born. Your Grandparents had meant to raise you as their own and didn't see a need to inform him. Unfortunately they both died young and that puts us where we are now. Any questions Anthony?"
"When do I leave?"
To be continued...
###
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Trailer Living, Part 7
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My name is Erik Hickman. I live with my mother, Joyce Young, and her husband, Dr. Phillip Young. They have been married from the time I was about three years old. I will be a junior in high school this year and live in Brentwood, Yes, and the Brentwood in the Los Angeles area. My step father is a plastic surgeon so I guess Mom married well considering she came from the wrong side of the tracks in
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"Well I love you too son. Thanks. I'll tell you what. I am gonna hit the hay and you sleep on it. I don't want you to ever feel uncomfortable here. If you think you will then you may need to decide to go live with Brad and his family. I hope you don't but I will respect your decision." dad continued. "Well, ok dad, but I don't think you really have to worry. I don't think I will be
Trailer Trash, Part 6
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Uncle's Home, Part 1
It was June 1976; I , Sean Brickman just finished my Senior year in high school in New York City, and now I was on my way to San Diego. I spent the past year on the varsity wrestling team and dating all the cheerleaders...and I mean all of them. I never really dated one girl for more than a couple weeks. The reason, of course, was that I got bored with girls easily. I was much happier hanging
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It was Saturday morning and I awoke with a start. You know, that foggy feeling of not knowing where you’re at right away, and then it all sort of comes back to you. I was in the bed in the guest room of my Uncle Carl's house. I was naked under a single sheet and I was very dehydrated. Otherwise I was no worse for ware. I didn't remember getting into bed much less naked. I stopped counting the
Uncle's Home, Part 3
The weekend was pretty much uneventful from there. After we went to the beach on Saturday we had steaks on the grill and turned in early. Then Sunday we drove up to Anaheim and went to Disneyland. It was only a two hour drive each way but it wore us out. We were both asleep before nine. Monday morning I heard Carl rustling and then he was at my door leaning on the door jamb totally naked and
Uncle's Home, Part 4
I was still swallowing cum when Frank took the seat across from me again. His coveralls were still bunched up around his feet and his semi hard cock was still seeping what was left of his orgasm. He seemed spent even though he still had that grin on his face. "That was nice Sean. I really appreciated that." Frank said. "Ah...yeah... no problem man." I was nervous. What if he told Carl about
Uncle's Home, Part 5
I sat up on the couch and put a pillow over my cock. I was embarrassed, confused and horny all at the same time. Next thing I knew Carl came out of the hallway naked with a beer in his hand. He went straight to the kitchen and got some hamburgers started for the grill. "Hey Sean, if your awake enough, why don't you go get the charcoal going and I'll make some macaroni and cheese to go along
Uncle's Home, Part 6
We sat outside and had burgers and beers. We kept the conversation pretty light and I was really feeling comfortable and relaxed. "Get us a couple more bud and I'll toss these paper plates in the trash out back here." Carl said as he got up. So I went in with the empty bottle and soon returned with some fresh ones. Carl was standing in the middle of the yard with his legs wide apart taking a
Uncle's Home, Part 7
I made a salad, corn on the cob and grilled some steaks. Frank and Carl finished everything. I barely was able to grab a steak for myself. Then I gathered up the plates while Frank and Carl gave each other shit. It wasn't long before Frank got dressed and took off. By that time I was dog tired and Carl was heading off to bed. So I finished cleaning up and headed to my bed. The next thing I
Uncle's Home, Part 8
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My early childhood was a pretty happy one. Mom, Janice, was a housewife and my Dad, Hank, worked on the Railroad as a conductor. We had a nice house in the suburbs of Houston, Richmond, and even though Dad was gone 3 - 4 days a week he always had time for me. My name is Bobby and I was their only child and yet I wasn't all that spoiled. I had chores to do and I took my role as
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A few weeks after I turned 18 and about a month before I graduated I got a letter from my Dad that would change my life. He was being released in about a month. Right after my graduation and unfortunately he would miss it. He said he was going to go ahead and live at the Dayton house and try to open back up the gas station and work as a mechanic like his Dad did. He couldn't get back on at the
When Dad Got Out of Prison, Part 3
I got in the passenger side after throwing some stuff in the back seat. As I was doing so I saw Dad get into the drivers seat. He was dressed to like me except without a tee shirt. His shorts were a bit tighter and shorter than mine as well. Since his shorts were so tight his box was well defined. You could see the head of his cock. His shorts seemed damp with sweat too. By the time I sat in
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Tom moaned and then said,
When Dad Got Out of Prison, Part 7
I locked up the office and took my shoes and shirt but didn't put them back on. I drove to the station in front of the house. When I pulled up I saw Dad in one of the garage bays pulling stuff out of boxes. He was in his cutoffs and work boots. Nothing else. I parked the car and walked up to him. He was squatting down in front of the box with his legs spread a bit. The shorts were so short
When Dad Got Out of Prison: Part 8
That's when the door opened. I was bent over the stained couch naked with a man's cock up my ass and standing at the door was my Dad. Standing at the door with only his cutoffs on, sweaty from the heat, was my Dad. I was too far gone to react. I just looked into my Dad's eyes with question and with lust. I didn't know what to do. But I knew more that anything that the cock in my ass had to
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