House for Sale
"Please don't leave; don't leave me. I beg of you. We can work it out. I know we can." Bertram Foley was wringing his hands, and pleading with his partner of fifteen years. Karl was oblivious to his pleas, and kept right on packing three large suitcases.
"You can have whatever is in the house," Karl said. "I won't be needing any of it." He ran out of the house and took off in a taxi, which was waiting patiently in the driveway.
Karl Berghof was a German National, who worked in the New York office of a large German Import-Export company. His work required frequent business trips abroad, most often to Frankfort, Germany where his firm's home office was located. Two years ago, Karl was introduced to Franz Sachs, a wealthy German industrialist, and one of his firm's major customers. At the time, Karl was forty years old, and Franz was forty-five.
The two men could have passed for brothers. They were both six feet, one inch tall, blond hair (darker than when they were kids), blue eyes, muscular bodies, no extra fat, and when they smiled, they both produced a dimple in their right cheeks. Karl loved the way Franz smelled. He was wearing a very expensive cologne, which he couldn't identify. Whatever it might be, it was intoxicating.
Karl sensed immediately that Franz might be gay. It was the way the man looked at him when they met. Even his firm handshake was more like a caress than a greeting. He decided to find out for sure.
Karl was by no means monogamous. His lengthy absences from home often culminated in hot, anonymous sex with strangers he connected with in bars throughout Europe and North America. He had no idea if Bertie cheated on him while he was away, and frankly, he didn't much care. He immediately set his sights on Franz. Karl's gaydar was working fine, and Franz was easy picking.
Franz was attracted to Karl immediately. He invited Karl to dinner that very evening. "I can't bear the thought of you eating all alone in some hotel dining room," he said. "You'll dine with me at my house. What hotel are you staying at? I'll send my man around to pick you up at six."
Karl was more than impressed. Karl's 'house' was hardly a house. It was a mansion. He was served a gourmet dinner by a bevy of servants. The two men dined at a huge dining room table. Karl tried to figure out how many people it could seat. Franz sat at the head, and Karl sat next to him on his right.
They chatted amicably all through dinner. They continued to enjoy each other's company while sipping an aperitif afterwards. When it was time to go, Franz surprised Karl. "I have a convertible Audi," he said. "I'm going to drive you back to your hotel myself. We'll leave the top down and it will be exhilarating."
"That sounds wonderful," Karl smiled, exposing his dimple.
"I think we are going to be great friends," Franz smiled, and now his dimple became evident also.
The ride was indeed exhilarating. Neither man wore a cap, and their hair was thoroughly windblown when they arrived at the hotel. Franz surprised Karl once again when he got out of the car, and gave the key to the hotel valet.
"I thought we would have a drink at the bar before you turn in," Franz offered by way of an explanation.
"Wonderful. I'm not ready for bed yet. I'm having too much fun."
It was rather late and there were plenty of empty tables in the bar. They took one in a very quiet corner. As soon as they were seated, Karl felt Franz's hand on his thigh and it was creeping upward.
"I intend to sleep with you tonight," Franz stated bluntly. "I just didn't want it to be in front of the eyes of my nosy servants. How do you feel about that?"
"I would have been terribly disappointed if the night had ended any other way," Karl answered. They savored their drinks and then went quickly to Karl's room.
They saw each other intermittently over the next two years. Along the way, the sex between them, gave way to love, and Franz admitted that he couldn't live without Karl. He offered him the CEO position in one of his most successful enterprises, a return to his native land, and a place in his bed. Karl could not refuse the multiple offers, and just like that, he was out of Bertie's life.
Bertie was not lacking for money, and could easily maintain their house in Hewlett Harbor, an upscale community on Long Island. He was a divorce attorney and had represented some of the richest men and women in New York.
He and Karl had met in the home of a mutual friend, when they were in their mid-twenties. At the time, Bertie was barely out of law school, and Karl was pursuing a career in the import-export business. They fell in love and moved into a small Manhattan apartment.
As their fortunes soared, they bought a beautiful home on the south shore of Long Island facing the ocean. Because of Karl's alien resident status, the house was in Bertie's name so that legally it was all his, and anyway, Karl wanted no part of it anymore. Bertie was never really crazy about their very large home. He would have enjoyed it more if Karl was there a lot more than he was. Because of their frequent separations, Bertie was not monogamous either.
Not long after they moved in, Bertie needed to hire someone to maintain the pool and the grounds. He hired a young man from an ad the gardener had placed in Newsday, a Long Island publication. When Anthony Lopez came to the house one Sunday morning, Bertie literally flipped. Anthony was the result of the union of an Italian mother and a Cuban father. He was stunningly handsome. He could model for Calvin Klein, but he told Bertie he was trying to build up his lawn and pool care business.
Bertie was six feet tall, and Anthony was at least three inches taller. He was wearing a tank top tee shirt, and his body was ripped with muscles. Given his profession, Bertie was not surprised. He hired him on the spot.
The first Sunday that Anthony worked for Bertie, he arrived wearing a pair of gym shorts and nothing else. "I'm doing the lawn today," he informed Bertie. "I'll clean the pool next Sunday. I'll alternate the pool and the lawn every other Sunday." Bertie could care less. He went from room to room and watched Anthony through various windows as he cut the grass, and trimmed the bushes.
Bertie was stroking himself the whole time. He was positive that Anthony was straight, and wondered if he could seduce him. It didn't matter; when he was finished, the boy/man packed his gear into his pick-up truck and left. Bertie tried hard not to think of him during the week, but at odd times, Anthony's muscled body invaded his thoughts.
The next Sunday afternoon, Anthony arrived wearing only gym shorts again. He went about skimming the pool, and Bertie ogled him covertly from inside the house. After the skimming was finished, Anthony started to remove his gym shorts. Bertie almost had a heart attack.
Underneath his shorts, Anthony was wearing a bikini bathing suit that left nothing to Bertie's imagination. The man was well endowed. He jumped into the pool and began to scrub the liner with a soft brush, removing any scum that may have accumulated on the sides. Bertie was impressed with the work he was doing, and with the man's spectacular body. In fact, it gave him the courage to make a move.
He went out to the pool, and spoke to the gardener/pool man. "When you're finished," he said, "come into the house and shower off the chlorine from your beautiful body. We don't want it to get marred in any way." Anthony turned red and smiled broadly at Bertie.
"Thanks. I'd like that," he said. The sun caught Anthony's teeth when he smiled. They shone like cultured pearls. Bertie was near to swooning.
When Anthony got out of the pool, Bertie handed him a towel. Before he started to dry himself, he removed his bathing suit and fully exposed himself to Bertie, who had to grab hold of a chair to keep from fainting. The boy was uncut, flaccid and at least six inches long. When he dried himself, he paid particular attention to his cock and dried himself thoroughly under his foreskin.
Bertie finally found his tongue. "You're wasting your time," he laughed. "You'll have to do that all over again after your shower."
"I know, but I don't want to be dripping all over your floors on the way to the shower."
He was right of course, so Bertie just smiled and said, "Follow me." Ordinarily, he would have taken Anthony to the guest bathroom, but he took him to the shower in the master bathroom. He wanted to feel Anthony's essence the next time he himself showered.
Bertie forgot one thing. Hanging over the king-sized bed in his bedroom, there was a huge painting of him and Karl. In the picture they are kissing, and they are both naked. Their cocks are erect and hard, and Karl's ample foreskin is covering the head of Bertie's cut cock.
It is the focal point of the room, and Anthony did a double take when he saw it. Are you gay?" he asked. "Is that your partner?"
Bertie was caught red-handed. All he could mutter was, "Yeah!"
"Where is he? Does he work on Sunday?"
"No, he's in Europe on business. He'll be gone another three weeks. When he gets home, he may be here for a couple of months or a couple of weeks. I never know."
"How long has he been away?"
"Almost a month now."
"That long? Christ, you must be pretty horny."
"For your information, young man, I'm always horny, even when Karl is home."
"Well, we have something in common," Anthony smiled. "I'm always horny too."
"Are you gay?" Bertie dared to ask. "I was sure you were straight, but my gaydar isn't well honed."
"I'm straight," Anthony said adamantly, "But I've always been curious about what it would be like to fuck someone's ass. I've also heard that gay men give way better head than any woman. I sure would like to find out."
"Start the shower," Bertie ordered, "and I'll be right in with you."
That first time in the shower, Bertie sucked Anthony's cock, and stopped just as he felt the boy cumming. He turned him around, and began to rim Anthony's ass. This was a new experience for the young man. Nobody had ever done that to him before. Then he soaped Anthony's cock thoroughly, and allowed him to fuck him without protection. Anthony let loose after a very few strokes, and screamed in pure pleasure.
"Is your curiosity satisfied?" Bertie asked.
"It sure is, and thank you. It was the greatest."
Anthony wasn't lying about being straight. All week long, he fucked beautiful straight women. With a body like his, he had no trouble at all. On those Sundays, when Karl wasn't home, which was most of the time, he and Bertie had sex. After a few sessions, Anthony's reticence was broken down, and he began to wonder what it would be like if he reversed roles with Bertie. He tentatively suggested it, and once again, Bertie was happy to allow Anthony to satisfy his curiosity. Anthony gave himself totally over to his feminine side. He rimmed Bertie's ass, and sucked his cock. He gritted his teeth and let Bertie fuck him. He was amazed at how much he enjoyed it. As much eroticism as he felt, he remained staunchly straight. His homosexual activity was confined to Bertie and his bedroom.
Even after Karl walked out on Bertie, he continued to have Sunday sex with Anthony, but everything else in Bertie's life changed. He began to hate the house he had once barely tolerated. One year to the date of Karl's departure, Bertie made a decision to sell the house and move back to the city. He realized that it would mean giving up Anthony, but he didn't care. Anthony was a fuck buddy, and would never be anything more. He was sure that he was still young enough, and good looking enough, to be successful in the love department in a city the size of New York.
He decided to try to sell the house on his own, and avoid real estate commissions. He could certainly act as his own lawyer. He placed ads in The New York Times and Newsday. He went to Home Depot and bought a sign and a wooden post. The sign read:
For Sale By Owner
By Appointment Only
At the bottom, he used a heavy black marker, and put in his cell number so he could receive calls at his office, if he was out for dinner, or even at home. He put the sign up on his front lawn on a Thursday evening.
About ten o'clock Saturday morning, Bertie was just getting out of the shower when he heard his doorbell chiming. He heard the first few notes of "The Ode to Joy" and he smiled. His doorbell was one of the few things in the house he would actually miss.
He grabbed a robe, and ran to the door. He opened the door and there stood one of the most handsome men he had ever seen. He's prettier than Karl, he thought. The man was about his age, and looked so much like Anthony, he could have been his father. The gentleman held out his hand, and automatically Bertie took it.
"I'm really sorry," the visitor said. "I was just driving by and I saw your sign out front. I know it says by appointment only, but I noticed your car in the driveway, and wondered if you wouldn't mind showing your house to me."
Bertie was excited. This was the first bite on the house. "Sure," he said, "come on in." The man followed Bertie into the house.
"Pardon my appearance and the messy house, "Bertie said. "I didn't expect company, and I just got out of the shower."
"Don't sweat it," the man said. "I'd rather look at a lived in home, than one that has been pristinely staged. Hey, if you want to get dressed, I can wait in my car.
"Now that you've seen what I look like in the morning, you might as well stay," Bertie quipped.
"I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself." The possible buyer extended his hand once again, and Bertie took it. "My name is Timothy O'Leary." Bertie was flabbergasted.
"How did someone named O'Leary get to have such a swarthy complexion?" he asked ingenuously. He quickly added, "Oh, I'm sorry. That was a stupid question, and I should have known better, seeing as how I'm a lawyer."
Tim laughed. "No, that was a smart question. My mother is Italian and my father is Irish." Bertie had to wonder if Anthony's mother, and Tim's mother could possibly be related.
"And what might your name be?" Tim asked.
"I'm all Irish," he said proudly. "The name's Bertram Foley. Everybody calls me Bertie. Suddenly Bertie realized that they were still holding hands. He let go. "Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?"
"I don't mind, if it's appropriate."
"I think it is. It has to do with the sale of the house."
"Then ask away."
"It's complicated." Bertie hesitated. "Let me word this correctly. This is a very big house, suitable for a family. Until a year ago, I shared this house with someone I loved very much. Believe me Tim, I'm not single by choice. One of the reasons I'm selling is that it's too big for me now. I guess what I'm getting at is do you have a family or someone to share this place with? If you don't, why would you be interested?"
"It's a long story," Tim said.
"Well then, let's have a seat on the sofa." Bertie beckoned toward the sofa, and went to sit down. He was unaware that his robe had parted slightly and one of his balls was clearly visible. Tim saw it but said nothing. Anyhow, he had seen plenty of balls in his life time, and there was nothing special about Bertie's."
"I'm a widower," Tim said simply. We adopted twin girls from Vietnam about a year ago. They were six months old when we brought them home with us. We had an apartment in Manhattan, and we were doing just great. We always knew that we would buy a house in the suburbs one day, in order to give the girls a good old fashioned American childhood.
"Then one awful day a couple of months ago, I got a call at work. The love of my life had been run over and killed by a drunken idiot who ran a red light. Thank God for the twins. If I didn't have them, I might have killed myself. I made up my mind right then and there to get them out of the city, and into a house with a back yard, where they could play safely."
"I am so sorry," Bertie said, and he laid his hand on Tim's.
"I sense that you have a story also," Tim said.
"It's not as sad as your story. I was too much in love to realize that my relationship was falling apart. One day, the love of my life packed up and went off with another man. It's an old story, I'm afraid."
Tim looked deep into Bertie's eyes. "She was a fool," he said. Bertie didn't bother to correct him. Instead he stood up, and he realized that his robe was loose, so he retied it. He held out his hand, and Tim took it. Bertie pulled him up off the sofa. When their hands met, a fire went through both men. They stared into each other's eyes longingly until it became uncomfortable.
Bertie looked away and said, "Come I'll give you a tour of the place."
Houses on Long Island were mostly built on sand, and they were too close to water to have basements, so they were all constructed on concrete slabs. Bertie's house had two levels. The bottom level boasted an oversized, eat in kitchen, which Bertie and Karl had modernized shortly after they moved in. Open to the kitchen was a large family room, paneled in oak. On the same level, on the other side of the center hall entrance there was a dining room, and right next to it was a huge living room. Both these rooms had bay windows overlooking the ocean. There was yet another room on this level. The door was open, and Bertie motioned Tim to step in, and he said, "Ta da."
"Amazing," Tim said.
"This used to be a maid's room, but we turned it into a gym." The room contained several pieces of Nautilus exercise equipment. "I'm leaving it here, and I haven't added anything to the price for it."
"I can't wait to use it," Tim said as if he had already bought the house.
"Before we go upstairs, let me show you the back yard for your girls," Bertie said. He opened the back door, which was in the kitchen, and led out to the back yard. "You can also get to the back yard through the garage. We had our property fenced in for complete privacy, and because we have a pool. The bad news, or some would say that's good news, is that you can't get to the back yard from outside the house."
"I hadn't thought about a house with a pool," Tim mused, "because the twins are so young. Still, they will grow up, and it's not a deal killer."
'I've got that covered," Bertie said. "The people we bought the house from were empty nesters, but they bought the house when it was new, and when their kids were toddlers. They had a children's safety fence. It's stored in the garage, and it's still there, so all you have to do is put it up."
"Fantastic. I've never had a back yard pool. I can't wait to play in it with my girls." Tim was still talking like it was a done deal, and Bertie wondered if Tim could afford the place. It had a price tag of $775,000. Bertie set it at that price to leave space for some wiggle room. He would accept $765,000. He had already priced the house slightly below market, because there would be no real estate commission. He felt that he could afford to ask a lower price, for a quicker sale.
Again Bertie held out his hand to Tim, who took it. He had no idea why he was being so intimate with this man except that he liked the look of him, the smell of him, and especially the feel of him.
"Let's go upstairs," he said.
"How many bedrooms are there?" Tim asked as they ascended the stairs.
"There are four bedrooms and three baths. The master bedroom has a bathroom, and the largest of the other three other rooms has a bathroom as well. We consider that to be the guest room. The third bathroom is in the hall for the use of the occupants of the two slightly smaller rooms."
"How perfect," Tim said. The girls can have those rooms and share the bath, and I can still offer my folks, and other visitors, a room with a private bath."
"Don't be too good to your guests," Bertie advised. "They may never want to leave. By the way, we furnished those two smaller rooms as home offices for us. Would you be in need of a home office?" Bertie was trying to find out as discretely as possible, what Tim did for a living, so he could determine if he could afford the house.
"It would be a convenience, but it's not a necessity. I own a ladies' fashion salon and boutique on Madison Avenue near 57th Street. My office is in the rear of the store."
"You won't mind the commute, then?" Bertie asked as he continued to probe.
"No. I've been looking in this neighborhood for quite some time now. I have the train schedules down pat, and I'll be alright. My nanny is willing to move with us. She's anxious to get out of the city also."
All the time they had been having this discussion, they remained at the top of the stairs. "I'd like to see the rooms now," Tim reminded Bertie.
"Oh sure, forgive me. We'll do the master bedroom last. I didn't get a chance to make the bed yet." There were other things Bertie forgot about.
Tim liked everything he saw, and remarked, "When you referred to the girls' rooms as the smaller bedrooms, I got a picture of a cozy little hideaway. Those rooms are huge, and plenty big for the girls, even after they've grown, and I become an empty nester myself. Now let's see where the big kahuna sleeps."
Bertie had never removed the nude painting of him and Karl. It was still hanging over his bed. He had intended on taking it down when he made his first appointment, but Tim had surprised him. Also sitting on his night table was a big tube of lube and a DVD in its jacket. The jacket was clearly visible as being a male porn disk. The letters on the jacket were so large the words could be read from the entrance, "Boy Students and Their Professors."
Bertie spotted these things a second before Tim did. Well, he couldn't change anything so he decided to ignore it, and see if it was a deal killer. Tim kept staring at the painting. He recognized Bertie immediately.
"What a beautiful picture," he said. "I wish Jamie and I had done a painting like this before I lost him. Is that other guy the SOB who threw you over?"
"Wait, Jamie was a man? When you said Jamie, I thought that was your late wife's name."
"Actually, Jamie and I were legally married, so technically he's my late husband. His name was James, but I always called him Jamie."
"Well, at least now I don't feel so bad about all these things lying around," Bertie sighed. "Yes, that's Karl. He literally abandoned me. He never gave me any warning."
Tim went over to Bertie's night table and examined the DVD. "Interesting title," he observed. "Is it any good?"
"It's so hot, I keep it by my bedside, so I can view it as often as I want to."
"My folks took the girls for the weekend so that I could go house hunting. I found the house I want, so I'm free all weekend. How would you like it if I got as naked as you, and we watched the tape together?"
"If that happened, I might not be able to remain the gentleman I've been up to now. Actually, I have wanted to jump your bones since you knocked on the door, but I restrained myself, and it wasn't easy."
"I haven't been with anyone since Jamie died," Tim confessed. "Could we skip the film and go right to the love making?"
Bertie wasn't ready to call what they were about to do 'love making.' He subtly said, "I take it you want to have sex with me."
"There's nothing I want more, and I'm too old to beat around the bush."
Bertie removed two condoms from his night table drawer, dropped his robe and fell into bed. He was flat on his back, legs spread, and cock standing straight up. As he undressed, Tim absorbed the sight of him. Bertie was cut, and very hefty. He was standing up about seven inches. Tim was closer to nine inches, but he was thinner than Bertie. He wasn't cut, but he now knew that Bertie's ex hadn't been cut either. That might be a plus. Even if Bertie wasn't ready to accept it, Tim knew that he was very attracted to Bertie, but he couldn't make a move toward a relationship until he found out how Bertie felt about children. He would have been very upset to learn that Bertie hated kids. His clients often brought their kids to his office. They were all rich kids, bratty, noisy and disruptive.
Putting all that aside, Tim placed his body on top of Bertie's, and ground their cocks together. They began to kiss passionately. Bertie hadn't had sex since the previous Sunday, almost a week ago, and Tim hadn't been with anyone for over two months since Jamie died. Their cocks were rubbing and grinding away, and both men felt that they were going to climax. Tim pulled away and started kissing his way down Bertie's torso. He took plenty of time, and Bertie was ready to explode. He needed to cum so badly. Without even being touched anywhere near his genital area, Bertie felt like he was about to shoot. He yelled at Tim that he was cumming, and Tim devoured Bertie's cock in his mouth. The explosion came and Tim swallowed every drop.
"That was miraculous," Bertie said. "Let me catch my breath, and I'll do you."
"I'd rather fuck you, if you don't mind."
Bertie reached for one of the condoms and the lube he had placed on his night table, and offered it to Tim. Tim got really excited. He put on the condom, and greased it generously. Then he put some lube on his middle finger. Bertie was still on his back, and he had placed a pillow under his butt. Tim pushed the glob of lube on his finger into Bertie's hole and began to ream him.
"I'm an old war horse," Bertie said. "You don't have to work so hard just fuck me." That was enough for Tim, and he placed his cock at the opening to Bertie's male vagina. He started to enter very slowly, and met no resistance. When he was fully inside, he lay still without moving. Bertie began to whimper.
"Please," he said, "fuck me now, and fuck me hard. I want this so badly."
They made love, or had sex (depending on which one you asked), until mid-afternoon. At last they got out of bed, showered, and went downstairs for a bite to eat. Neither had a stitch of clothes on.
Finally Bertie broached the subject of the house sale. "Do you really want to make me an offer?" he asked Tim.
"Not really. I don't need to make an offer. I'm willing to pay the asking price."
"Wow, that's great. I'll draw up a contract of sale. Can you pick it up at my office on Monday, and you can take it to your lawyer."
"Bertie, after what we just did, I don't need a lawyer. I know you wouldn't screw me. Oh wait, you just did." Tim broke out laughing at his own bad joke.
"I wouldn't jerk anybody around whether we had sex or not. I'll make an extra copy for the bank you are getting a mortgage from."
"That won't be necessary. I'm paying cash. When we adopted the girls, Jamie and I took out hefty life insurance policies on each other, a million bucks to be exact. We also had double indemnity clauses, and when he died I collected two million dollars."
Bertie was speechless. All he could manage was some inane remark. "By the way did I tell you what a great lover you are?" he asked, in order to change the subject.
"No! I'm all ears. Please tell me."
"OK. You're a terrific lover."
"Bertie, can I come by tomorrow with my kids and my folks to show them the place. We won't stay long."
Bertie panicked. Sunday was Anthony day. "No. I'm sorry. Tomorrow is not good for me."
"Then why don't you come to my apartment in the city Monday evening. You can bring the contract there. I'll make dinner for us, and you can meet the twins. You can meet my folks another time."
Bertie began to feel like he was being lassoed into a domestic relationship with Tim. He had mixed feelings about it. Tim was a handsome man, and a fantastic lover, but was he ready for a relationship with children?
He arrived at Tim's apartment precisely at 6 PM. The door was answered by a middle-aged, slightly overweight, African American woman named Margie. She took his attaché case and showed him in. Tim ran to greet him, but refrained from hugging or kissing him with his nanny around. He shook Bertie's hand, and Bertie got that warm glow again.
The twins were playing with some soft toys on the living room floor, which was heavily carpeted. "They've been fed and bathed and are ready to be put down for the night," Tim said. "I just wanted you to meet them before they went to bed."
He picked up one of the girls. "This is Jennifer," he said, and handed Bertie the child. Bertie wasn't sure what to do so he took the little girl, and relieved Tim of his burden. Tim picked up the other twin, and said, "And this little angel is Joy. Come with me, and we'll put them in their cribs."
Bertie followed Tim into what was the nursery. He put Joy in a crib on her back, so Bertie tried to do the same with Jennifer in the other crib. Jennifer had other ideas. Her arms were around Bertie's neck, and she was holding on for dear life. He tried to loosen her hold, and she began to kiss him on his cheek. In the end, Tim took her from him, and put her down. Something entirely unexpected happened in those few moments. A little girl stole Bertie's bachelor heart. He looked at Jennifer in the crib, and she smiled up at him. He felt compelled to run the back of his palm lightly down her cheek. When he looked up, he saw Tim smiling at him, and he was embarrassed.
"They're beautiful," he said to Tim. "You're a lucky man. I talked to Karl once about adopting, and he damn near bit my head off."
They went into dinner together, and Bertie expected Margie to serve, but Tim shocked him. "I gave Margie the night off, and she's staying over at her son's apartment to enjoy her own grandchildren. I'll be your server tonight. My name is Tim. Call me if you need anything," Tim joked and laughed.
Tim made lamb chops, which was one of Bertie's favorite foods. How did he know, or was it just a coincidence?
"I hope you like lamb chops," Tim said. "I had it planned for tonight's dinner before we ever met. It's my favorite food." Bertie wanted to say, "Mine too," but this was all too weird, and he kept his mouth shut.
After dinner they went over the contract of sale. "I left the closing date blank," Bertie said. "I didn't know how much time you might need to pack up this apartment, and how much notice you need to give the landlord. I can tell you that I need at least two months to pack up and find a nice apartment."
"How would you like to take over this apartment? It's in a great neighborhood and very close to your office. I could talk to the landlord about it."
"It's not a bad idea. Let me think about it."
"Can we leave the closing date open and we can do it when it's convenient to both of us?"
"To complete a binding contract, I need an outside date. What if I say the closing will occur no later than three months from today? If we go beyond that, the guilty party will pay the other, say, $100.00 penalty a day. That way, neither of us will dawdle."
Bertie wrote in the language of their agreement regarding the closing date and they both initialed it. Then they began to review the whole contract. When Tim saw that the selling price was $765,000, he told Bertie that he made a mistake, but Bertie explained that was the price he hoped to get, and he sure didn't want to screw him, just because he didn't try to chisel him down.
"I already wrote the 10% down payment check for $77,500," Tim said, "so leave it that way, and I'll have less to pay at closing."
When they finished reviewing the document, they both signed it in triplicate. Tim leaned over and gave Bertie an open mouthed kiss.
"What's that for?"
"For your gift of $10,000. Now would you like to see my bedroom? I have plans for it tonight."
"Could I shower first? I came right from a rough day at work," Bertie smiled at Tim. The love making (or the sex play) began in the shower.
The following Saturday, Tim came around to Bertie's house with his parents, the twins and Margie. Bertie had finally removed the nude painting of him and Karl. He decided never to hang it again. He thought he might actually destroy it. When their tour took them to the back yard, Bertie yelled, "Surprise." The child's safety fence was mounted around the pool. "I asked my pool man to set it up for you. He does the gardening too."
"Now that's someone I definitely want to meet. I can see that he does a great job and I'd like to engage him also."
"Can you come around about 11 AM on any Sunday? I'll introduce you to him." Bertie wouldn't tell Tim, but he was thinking about a threesome. He wondered if Tim and Anthony would go for it.
When Tim said he would come around the next day, Bertie got the strangest feeling. He and Tim had been having sex almost all week. Suddenly he wondered if he wanted to do a threesome with Anthony. He wasn't even looking forward to his usual Sunday twosome with Anthony. It occurred to him that he'd rather be one on one with Tim. He was surprised at the emotions welling up inside of him.
Tim showed up at 9 AM the next day. Bertie hadn't gotten out of bed yet. Tim was alone and Bertie breathed a sigh of relief. Tim grabbed hold of the naked Bertie, and kissed him so passionately Bertie nearly passed out. They got each other good and hard playing sixty-nine and, and then they fucked each other. Bertie entered Tim first, and when he came he almost yelled, "I love you Tim," But he couldn't bring himself to say it. Was he finally over Karl?
Tim had no such constraints. When he came high up Bertie's ass (they had stopped using condoms after their third encounter) Tim did yell, "I love you, Bertie. I love you a whole lot."
His body collapsed on Bertie's and they started to kiss. Tim realized that he was crying, but all the tears were not his. Bertie's tears were mixing with his.
"You're crying. Why?" Tim asked.
"I think...I think I love you too."
The kissing resumed, and it was mixed with tears.
"What are we going to do about it?" Tim asked.
"I don't know. We'll talk later, but for now, we better get dressed. Anthony will be here any minute."
When Anthony arrived, Bertie made a quick introduction. He told him that Tim was buying the house, and he wanted to retain Anthony's services. Anthony and Tim both remarked about their uncanny resemblance to each other.
"Sure," Anthony said. "It'll be a pleasure." He looked over at Bertie, who shook his head imperceptibly, indicating that there would be no play time today. Anthony was disappointed, and quickly went about his tasks. Today was lawn and landscape day.
Once Bertie and Tim had declared their love, even Bertie was willing to admit that they weren't having sex anymore; they were making love. After each encounter, whether in Bertie's house or Tim's, Bertie grew happier and happier.
He began to love his house. It was a beautiful house. Why did he not realize it before, but he had a sale's contract, and as a lawyer he knew he had to honor it.
He began to badger Tim to set a moving date, but Tim kept ignoring Bertie's request. Finally Bertie asked him if he wanted to renege on the deal. "The down payment is non-refundable," he reminded Tim.
"Are you too blind to see what's bothering me? I don't want you to move out of the house. I want us to live here together, forever, you, me and the twins, as a family. If you want to live in the city, that's fine. Move into my apartment, and put the house back on the market. We can live there as a family as well as here, but if you want to live in the suburbs, then I'll move in with you. Just don't write me out of your life. Have you any idea how much I love you?" Tim began to cry again. He just couldn't control his emotions where Bertie was concerned.
"I want what you want," Bertie said, but I'm so confused. I thought I loved Karl, and now I realize that I never loved him. Comparing how I feel about you with how I felt about him, I am now fully aware of the difference. I think about you all day long. I can't wait for us to make love. I actually ache just for the privilege of holding you in my arms. I love you so much, it's killing me."
Tim was no longer crying. He was bawling.
"We have to think of the twins also," Bertie continued. "You wanted to raise them outside of the city, so that's what we'll do. I've been doing a lot of thinking. We'll convert the gym back to a bedroom for Margie. Our bedroom is big enough for the treadmill, and we'll get rid of the other equipment."
Tim could not believe what he was hearing. His bawling had stopped, and his face was covered with a great big grin. I don't know how much you love me, Mr. Foley," he said with a grin, "but I'll bet you that I love you more."
At Tim's insistence, they drew up a new contract, and he paid Bertie half the previously agreed upon fee. Bertie put Tim's name on the deed, and in a few short weeks, Tim, Margie, and the girls moved into the house.
Tim's parents took the girl's home with them every weekend to give their sons some much needed alone time. Margie went along to help the grandparents.
When Anthony showed up on Sundays, he would look longingly at Bertie. His yearning looks were driving Bertie crazy. He decided to tell Tim about his lustful encounters with Anthony before they met. Bertie was pleased to note that Tim showed some interest, and didn't give him a flat out NO.
The following Sunday, when Anthony showed up, Tim said to Bertie, "I'll be right back. I want to ask Anthony to do something for me." He went outside to talk to him, and Anthony followed him into the house. By the time they reached the back door and entered the kitchen, they were both naked.
"What's taking you so long, Foley? Why aren't you undressed yet?"
A wide grin covered Bertie's face and he ran into the master bedroom, stripping along the way. He was naked when he reached the bedroom, and fell on the bed. Tim fell between his legs and started to suck his lover's cock. Anthony knew where the condoms and lube were. He got himself ready, mounted Tim, and began to fuck him.
Their special Sunday relationship lasted until Tim's folks retired and moved to Hilton Head, so his father could play golf every day. The girls and Margie were now home every Sunday, and Anthony had to content himself with fucking women.
About a year after the three men stopped having sex together, Anthony married a beautiful young woman. Tim and Bertie were invited to the wedding.
By the time, the twins were twelve years old, Margie had stopped being a nanny. She had her own apartment, and only came once a week to clean the house. One Sunday, Anthony showed up to do the pool, and Bertie asked him into the house.
"The twins will be at sleep away camp for eight weeks," he said. Before Bertie could say another word, Anthony was stripping and heading for the bedroom. It was going to be a great summer. Every summer on the ocean was great, but this one was going to be extraordinarily special.