Gay Erotic Stories

“I know, but I just wanted to take a look at that car parked across the street–that white convertible BMW.”

“Yeah, that’s real kool,” said Richard, as the two of them approached and circled the car. “Someday, when I’m a big star on Broadway, I’m going to get my hands on one of these babies. Then I’ll be able to take you home or on a date in real style.”

“That someday is now. It’s mine–all mine,” said Joseph, to his shocked companion, as he opened the trunk. “Put your stuff in the trunk with mine, and we will drive out to see your folks in style. In fact I’ll even let you drive it. Along the way I will fill you in and bring you up to date. Do you think you can handle this ‘junky’?”

“You bet your sweet ass I can. Dad lets me drive his BMW and that’s a stick shift–this should be a piece of cake. How did you ever manage to get this ‘jalopy’? The government isn’t spending my hard earned tax money giving you soldiers BMWs, are they?”

“Nope, it wasn’t given to me by our government. A government to which, if I recall right, you don’t report some of your hard earned cash,” Joseph jested. After loading their luggage, he handed Richard the car keys and got into the passenger seat. “Here, you get behind the wheel. Let me show you where everything is and how to start this baby up.”

Richard listened, started the car up, put it in drive, and they started off to the Island. Joseph told Rich how he got the car, and filled him in on what had happened since they had last seen each other. He told him everything–including the parts about Fazzi and Kassie. “I’m telling you all this, because I want you to hear this from me, and I don’t want to hold anything back from you. I don’t want there to be any secrets or hidden stuff. I love you and trust you and there will be nothing secret between us. Anytime you feel that it’s getting to be too much for you, let me know, and I’ll try to pull out.”

“Joseph, you know I didn’t want you doing any of this crap in the first place. But, I also know that it has to be done, and that you are probably the only one able to do this. Really, I may bitch and complain, but I’m proud of you. I did a lot of thinking about this, and I must admit, that in the beginning, I was ready to kill you. But then I kept telling myself–over and over–that you are doing this for us, for you, for the fucking country and for me. You I can fight, but I can’t fight the entire country, can I?”

“Tomorrow, my FBI control man will be at your parents’ house. He will talk to all of us: you, your parents, and me. I already asked your dad to meet with him and your father has agreed. Tonight, I’m going to tell your mom and dad the whole story. If after they hear me out, they agree to work with me, I will continue this–otherwise I will tell Bill that I want out. I’ll quit and go back to being an army translator. I don’t care which way this turns out, as long as I have you and your family alongside me in the future,” Joseph said, as he leaned his head against Richard’s shoulder and kissed his cheek.

“Watch that babe. I don’t want to smash up your new car. You have a way of getting me excited at the most inopportune times,” Richard said, as his fingers grasped the wheel to keep the car under control.

The rest of the trip, Joseph filled him in on who Agent Barns was, and explained more or less how his family would fit into the complicated plan. He had planned to tell the entire family together, but the soldier thought it would be better to at least get Rich ‘on board’ first. This way, both of them would present a united front. Joseph slipped a CD into the slot, and for the rest of the trip they heard music from the expensive sound system in the car.

Richard’s eyes spied the ‘black box’ hooked up to the sun visor. “Hey is that a radar detector up there?” he asked.

“Yes and no,” Joseph said. “It is a bug scanner and radar detector rolled up into one instrument. I need it to make sure that no one is listening to what’s going on or has planted a tracking device. Agent Barns thought it would be better to be safe than sorry. I’ll show you how it works later.”

The drive lasted about two hours. When they were about 30 minutes from the house, Richard told Joseph to call and let his parents know that they were on their way and would be there soon. He wanted them to know so that they would not go to the station to meet them. “Just tell them we have arranged other transportation and don’t need to be picked up,” said Richard.

Twenty minutes later, they appeared at the gate of the Worthington estate. Using the gate intercom, they were let in and drove up to the front door. Both of Richard’s parents were waiting with opened mouths. As they stepped out, Rich’s father, seeing his son get out from behind the wheel, said aghast, “Well, if I had known that modeling underwear was going to pay so well–I would have done that myself years ago. I would have been saved from all the ups and downs of the market.”

“Sorry dad but it’s not mine–it belongs to Joseph, and he did not steal it either,” he joked. “He will explain it all to the both of you in due time.”

“From what Joseph tells me, we all have an interesting weekend in store for us,” Richard senior said.

Rich’s mother hugged both boys and said, “Come, let’s go inside. You boys must be famished.”

After they had eaten supper and were sitting around in the living room, Joseph and Rich told the Worthingtons as much of the story as they could. When he was finished there was a long silence. Mr. Worthington, stern-faced, got up and began to pace back and forth.

“Now, let me see if I read this right,” he said, while still pacing, “you want this family to use our position, to say nothing of our honor, to help you in what may well be a wild-goose chase? And with no evidence other than this Fazzi is an Arab?”

“Well sir, there is proof that at one time he was a Syrian agent,” Joseph said. “I will admit that it all sounds rather ‘thin’ to say the least, but there must be something there. The fact that he is involved with ‘Hamas’ should be proof enough to at least investigate. With the record of that group alone, I would think that the possibility that we might be preventing another ‘nine-eleven’ would be reason enough.”

“And what if there is nothing there?” asked Rich’s father. “The very fact that my firm helped you persecute an innocent Arab would kill any chance of my getting a share of that oil money….”

“Oil money?” his wife asked. “Is that more important than preventing another ‘nine- eleven’? Dear, do you remember how frantic I was that day, not knowing if you were alive, or if you had been buried under one of those collapsed buildings? Your business took you in and out of that area every day, and your office on Wall Street was not far from ‘ground zero’. Richard, this family lost a lot of friends that day, and if there was anything we could have done to prevent it, you’d better believe that we would have done it. If there is even a slight chance….”

“You’re right, my dear,” Richard senior said, looking as if he had been slapped in the face. “I should not have needed you to even remind me. It’s just that I guess I’ve forgotten that we are at war. Joseph, we will help you in any way we can. What do you need us to do?”

“Well, I just want you to listen to Agent Barns tomorrow,” the soldier said. “He will outline a plan that we have been working on. I think we will be able to work this in such a way that you may attract a lot of legitimate ‘oil money’, as well as help the country. One thing more, neither Barns nor anyone else knows about your son and me. I think it would be better if we kept it that way–for now.”

“What if you have to marry that Kassie girl?” Mrs. Worthington asked.

“I don’t think it will come to that. Both Barns and I now believe that, not only Fazzi, but also his wife, and possibly his daughter, are Agents–that they may be using me in order to get something other than a husband for her,” Joseph said. “What that is–we don’t know yet, for sure.”

“I’m sorry I sounded so cold before,” Worthington senior said. “We will all help. And let me say how proud of both you and Rich we are! You, Joseph, are the best thing that has happened to Rich, and to our family, in a long time. Be assured that we will do ‘our duty’.”

“Not only that, sir, but just think of the sales commissions,” Joseph said.

“You mean I get to keep them?”

“Well I hope so. Why not? We will have to ask Barns about that…along with whether or not I get to keep that BMW,” Joseph laughed.

“Now let’s have a drink on it,” Richard junior said. “And then, James Bond here and I have a few maneuvers to go over in private. Just don’t try to wake us too early tomorrow. We have a lot of time to make up for. If you hear unusual sounds coming from our room–don’t call the E.M.S.–at least not until you get the word from either of us.”

“A little too much information, junior,” replied Richard senior.

It was eleven in the morning when Joseph opened his sleepy eyes. He was having this really hot dream of the two of them in bed. Richard was under the covers, between his legs, his nose buried deep into the soldier’s pubic hair. His throat encasing Joseph’s rock hard cock, Squeezzing it! Then he realized that it was no dream. Peeking under the blanket, there was Richard…sucking away like he was looking to suck all of Joseph’s insides out through his cock.

“Oh yeah, it don’t get any better than this baby,” he said, and then spun himself around into a 69 position and took Rich’s cock into his mouth. The two of them spent the rest of the morning sucking and swallowing each other’s dicks or fucking each other like a pair of wild lovers on a honeymoon. Finally there was a banging on the door.

“Hey you two, are you going to spend the entire day in there? Are you both OK?” Richard’s mom yelled out. “At least come up for air and a bit of food other than…”

They both started to laugh so hard that they rolled around on the floor. Richard yelled out to his mother, “Neither of us asked you to call the E.M.S. yet mom! We’ll be out in time for a late lunch.” Then to Joseph he whispered, “We’d better get up. She’s liable to call the fire department and have them hose us down like two rutting dogs.”

“Yes, I guess we had better. Barns will be here in a few hours,” Joseph said-laughing at the thought of the fire department hosing them down.

The two lovers got showered and dressed and then came down for a late Sunday brunch. After lunch they took a short walk along the beach. It was difficult to realize that only a few weeks ago they were walking along the same white sand–barefooted. The weather had quickly changed from summer to late fall. This afternoon the wind was very cool–almost cold. Winter was coming. You could almost smell the snow in the air. They walked hand in hand for a while, enjoying the change in season, and then turned back to the house. There they found Mr. and Mrs. Worthington waiting for them on the back porch.

“We were watching the two of you walking together,” Rich’s mom said. “It reminded us of the times, many years ago, when your father and I would walk along that same stretch of beach. After you were born, Richard, we dreamed that someday you might walk with the one you loved along this beach. Today we saw that. Even though it wasn’t exactly how we originally visualized…it was still the same. Joseph, what my husband said–last night about you being the best thing that has happened to our family–was only partly right. Rich was the best and you are the second best. I’m so very glad he found you.”

“Well, I just don’t know what to say,” Joseph said, choking up a bit, “your son means the world to me and…”

The sound of the buzzer from the main gate interrupter their conversation, “That must be your Mr. William Barns.” Sarah said. “Let’s meet this man and see what he has planned for all of us.” Moving to the front of the house, they opened the gate by the remote control and waited as Bill drove his car up the driveway. Joseph opened the car door for him and as he got out shook his hand and introduced him to everyone.

“Bill, I want you to meet Mr. Richard Worthington, his wife, Sarah and their son Rich,” Joseph said. “Folks this is Agent William Barns, my boss.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet all of you. I assume that Joseph has told you why I’m here,” Bill smiled as he showed them his identification. “You can call me, Bill. Let’s go somewhere private where we can talk.”

“I think the library would be the best place,” Sarah said. “Richard, my dear, take our guest there and I’ll put on some coffee and join you men there. Bill is coffee OK or do you wish something else?”

“Coffee is just fine and that’s very kind of you,” Bill said.

They all followed the senior Richard into the library and got comfortable around the coffee table. Bill opened the large file he had brought with him and withdrew a few sheets. “Mr. Worthington, besides your butler-chauffeur John Lang, his wife Emily Lang the cook and Peter Devons the gardener, do you have any other household help?”

“Why no! How did you know that?” Richard asked flabbergasted.

“We are the FBI, Richard, and I had to check out anyone that might be privy to anything we say or do on this matter. You can be assured that your servants, as well as the rest of your family are what we call ‘good’ security risks. However, I would still be careful about what you say in front of anyone from now on. It might also be a good idea to remind them that, ‘what they hear here stays here.”

“Just what is this all about? And what is it that you wish us to do?” asked Sarah, returning to the room wheeling a cart loaded with coffee, cookies and light refreshments. “I hope this is enough Mr. Barns, I did not know if you had lunch or not. I could have our cook prepare a sandwich, if you prefer.”

“Oh my God, no thank you. I already had lunch and what you have here is more than enough for me,” said Bill, taking the cup of coffee from her hand and looking over the sumptuous spread laid out on the tray. “It is not often that the recipients of an FBI visit welcome him with a catered affair,” he jested.

After everyone had helped themselves to coffee and snacks, Bill continued, “First of all, and this is just supposition, we believe that Fazzi Muhammad and his family are terrorists. And not only that, but we also think that Fazzi is the head of a ring that is planning another undercover operation perhaps as big as the World Trade Center one. And that they plan to add insult to injury by using American money to pay for it! If this is so–it could mean that our efforts to close down their financial sources are beginning to pay off.

“If you really think that is so,” the elder Richard said. “I join with my wife in asking you–what can we do to help?”

“It remains to be seen if their sources of money are drying up. I hope so, but in the meantime here is what I would like you to do for us. Mr. Worthington, you will do and act the same as if this was just a regular new account. It may well be a very large account and we would like to know the amounts and where the money came from. We would also like to know to where and to whom the money is going. We do not expect Mr. Muhammad to come right out with this information. However, he might slip and any information you can gather would be of help to us. Don’t push Fazzi too far. We don’t want him to get suspicious. When funds are withdrawn from the account we want a record of the amounts, to whom they are given and how the money was transferred. We want to be able to establish and follow the money trail.”

“Is that all? ” Richard senior asked. “Joseph made it sound like we would be involved in a real ‘James Bond’ operation here. What you are asking us to do is nothing more than SOP, (standard operating procedure). I thought we would be involved in cloak-and-dagger stuff.”

“That’s Joseph’s job, and we do have other paid professionals for that sort of stuff,” the FBI agent said. “Joseph does get a bit ‘Hollywoodish’ at times. But taking that into account plus a few other faults, he has the makings of a great agent. He really has the dangerous part in this operation. But, for some reason, he gets the job done, and at times, even better than our regular agents do or even could do.”

“Is there anything else we can do to help?” the younger Richard asked. “Something that would make it less dangerous for Joseph?”

“No,” Barns answered. “The one thing we do not need is a amateur getting in the way. Joseph is one hell of an agent and there is no need to worry about him. There is really nothing else that I can think of offhand. You will all have my card with my telephone numbers, at work and home. If you should have any questions or need help, just call me either at the office or at home 24/7, and I do mean 24/7. I repeat: For now, Mr. Worthington, just act as you would with any other client.”

“Well, if what Joseph has told me about this man is true, this man will not be any other ‘ordinary’ client. He may have lots of money to invest and that will demand special handling,” the Wall Street financier said.

“Special handling? Yes, that’s true,” said the FBI agent. Since I myself have never been involved with Wall Street or the big money boys, I have no experience in how these things are done. Mr. Muhammad may want to develop social as well as business relationships with you. I leave that up to your judgment. I would think with your larger clients, co-mingling and socializing are the norm. There could be a lot of money involved here and you should expect some handsome sales commissions.”

“Talking about the commissions–last night, after Joseph told us about this operation–my husband and I talked about this commission business,” Sarah said. “We decided that, after deducting expenses, we would like to have any leftover profit divided between The NYC Policemen’s Widows and Orphans Fund and The Firemen’s Widows and Orphans Fund.”

“Madam, this is very generous of the two of you,” the agent said. “I don’t know what to say, except, thank you.” Then turning to Joseph he said, “Who said, ‘there weren’t anymore class acts around’? Well, unless there are any other questions, I’ll finish my coffee and leave you good people and return to my own family. It’s now up to you, Joseph, to get things rolling with Fazzi. Go get him, tiger!”

Bill finished his coffee and again thanked the Worthington’s for their help and hospitality. Joseph then showed him out. As he got into his car, Bill said to Joseph, “Your friends are good people. I don’t want to see any of you hurt. Be careful. What I said in there about you having the rough part is true. Just watch your backside.”

“I will Bill. On the way back to base I’m going to stop at Fazzi’s and start the ball rolling. You take it easy driving home.”

After Bill left, the soldier rejoined the family in the library, and they talked about setting up the first meeting between Fazzi and Richard senior. The talk continued throughout the evening meal. After supper, Joseph and Rich packed, said their good-byes and took off for the city. Joseph would drop Rich off at his place, and say good-bye to him, and then continue on to Paterson to pickup his laundry and perhaps a meeting with Fazzi…

To be continued…