At The Main Street Bar and Grill
In spite of its generic name, The Main Street Bar & Grill was an establishment, which catered to the more mature males of the gay community. On any given night the men in the bar ranged in age from forty to death. A smattering of young men also hung out there, hoping to find a sugar daddy, or to take advantage of some old dude, who was foolish enough to be flattered by their come-ons.
The bar was located in Greenwich Village in lower Manhattan. It was neither on Main Street, nor was it a grill. It was all bar and nothing else. The only food one could hope for were bar snacks; pretzels and peanuts, and even these were not always provided. The main reason for hanging out there has been, and always will be, for cruising.
Unlike most modern establishments, there were no security cameras inside or outside the bar. Many of the clientele were married men with children, even grandchildren, who didn't want to be caught on camera. There were so many of them, that the management had acquiesced to their demands, or risked losing a lot of business. Therefore, on the evening that Det. John (Jack) Specio showed up at The Main Street Bar and Grill for the first time, he was assured of complete anonymity.
Jack was a big (six and a half feet), strapping, tough, no-nonsense, cop. He was also gay and very much out in the open. Nobody in his precinct would dare to poke fun at him, or question his arrest record. Jack's fist was bigger than most of their faces.
He didn't usually hang out in gay bars. He didn't have to. His partner of fifteen years kept him very happy, in and out of the bedroom, so he had no desire to 'wander' and jeopardize a good thing. Larry Bingham was the exact opposite of Jack. He was just five feet, ten inches tall, and he was as mild mannered as Clark Kent. He practiced real estate law in the financial section of New York.
A series of unfortunate events brought Jack to this bar on this night. Seven weeks earlier, a sixty-two year old gay male, Jerry Levitan, was found brutally raped and beaten in his home. His throat was slashed and his apartment was in shambles. Jerry's sister listed what she believed to be the stolen items from the apartment: jewelry, TVs, a lap top, and some of Jerry's clothes. The police had determined that the unfortunate victim was last seen at The Main Street Bar and Grill on the night of his murder. None of the patrons, nor the bartender, remembered having seen him leave, and there were no security tapes to assist the investigators.
Two weeks to the day, the scene was repeated on sixty-year-old Harry Foster. Harry had no relatives, but his friends also testified that they knew for a fact that Harry had visited The Main Street Bar and Grill on the night of his murder. Of course, none of them were with him that night, and they could shed no further light on the matter.
Two weeks after that, a similar fate claimed the life of Vincent Perrone, a seventy-year old gay male, who was last seen at The Main Street Bar and Grill. Fortunately, in this case, one of his friends told the police that he came to the bar with Vincent, but they did not hang out together that night. Sometime during the evening, he did spot him across the room for a moment.
He was talking to a middle-aged man, but he didn't see Vincent or the man again that night. "I just figured that Vincent got lucky, and took his trick home with him." His description of the mystery man was very iffy; about five-six to five-eleven, salt and pepper hair, or maybe it was brown, wore eyeglasses and a gray pullover, was white or Latino (couldn't tell in the heavy crowd and at that distance), and he was smoking.
The police were now ready to state that they had a serial killer on their hands, and he was striking at precisely two week intervals. The next two week period was fast approaching. Not wishing to alarm the community, Jack decided to investigate under cover with full permission of Capt. Barkley, his precinct captain. Larry wanted to go with him, but Jack wished to appear as if he was single and alone. Larry pointed out that Jack was too big and brawny for the perp to dare attack him, but he wouldn't hesitate to come on to him.
There was no way Jack would involve Larry. He pointed out that he was only going to be an observer over the next few days. He didn't expect that the killer would approach him either. Even though Vincent had been seen with a smoker, there was no guarantee that he was the murderer. Still, a smoker, who wore glasses, was considered the prime suspect. During the last couple of decades there were less and less smokers around. Maybe Jack's odds would improve.
They didn't. Half the bar patrons this Thursday evening were smoking, and many wore glasses. The smoke and the foul acrid odor were killing Jack. He wondered if the guys who were smoking even cared if they lived or died. Most of the men in the bar were huddled in groups, and they all seemed to know each other. Jack was trying to spot someone who seemed to be a loner, and might approach another unattached man.
By midnight, there were only a few men left, and since they all seemed to know each other, Jack went home. It was two days to D-Day. Jack dared hope that the murderer would show on the next night to search for a victim. He didn't want to have to depend on his instinct at the eleventh hour. The fatal day was Saturday night and the bar would be overflowing with male testosterone all evening. He was afraid he would miss the guy in the heavily overcrowded bar.
The bar was much more crowded the next evening, than it had been on the night of Jack's first vigil. It was Friday, and the beginning of the weekend, after all. There were plenty of non-regulars there, along with the regulars, enjoying a TGIF drink before heading home. A few minutes after Jack ordered a drink, which he intended to nurse all evening, he spotted Larry entering the bar. Jack was angry, but he didn't dare make a scene. If Larry was willing to be bait, it would be easy to keep an eye on him, and anyone who might approach him.
Larry ordered a drink and purposely stood aside acting very much alone. Jack kept a sharp eye on him, which was the reason he failed to notice a man approaching him from his back. He was bigger than Larry, but not as big as Jack. He was about forty, six feet even, Caucasian, brown hair, bespectacled, in need of a shave, and he was smiling at everyone who might have noticed him. Apparently nobody noticed anybody who smiled at them. Smiling men in a bar got lost, and became just another face in the crowd.
Suddenly Jack felt something probing his backside. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was a gun. A vaguely familiar voice whispered in his ear, "Don't make a scene detective. Just leave quietly with me, and nobody in this joint will get hurt. If you choose to be foolish, I can take an awful lot of souls with me, before you could subdue me."
Detective Specio walked slowly toward the front door. Not wishing to place anyone in danger, he complied with the voice's wish. Moments later Larry looked toward where Jack had been standing. When he didn't see him, his eyes searched the room, thinking his partner had moved elsewhere. He did not spot Jack, and he panicked. He pushed his way around the crowded bar, and when he was satisfied that Jack was gone, he pulled out his cell phone and called Jack's precinct.
Outside the bar, the man with the gun steered Jack into an unlit, side alley. Occasionally, casual hook-ups gave each other blow jobs there because it was so dark. Most of the time nobody came back there except to dump the bar's garbage. The place was totally deserted at the moment. Now that other people were not in danger, Jack began to plan his move to subdue the gun-wielding man. Before he could act, Jack felt a sharp blow to his head, and he blacked out.
When he awakened, he found himself completely naked in a four-poster bed. Each of his arms and legs were tied to one of the four posts. He wondered if the guy who abducted him had an assistant, or if he had super human strength. He was too big for the man to have handled him by himself. Jack looked around. Everything was hazy but he was sure that he was alone.
Through the fog in his brain, and the blur in his eyes, he heard someone come into the room. He couldn't make out who it was. Jack had never seen the face of his abductor, and this guy's face was blurry. He tried to compare the image of the man in the room with the vague description of the serial killer. He didn't have much time to think about it. He felt a sharp jab in his left arm. Before he passed into unconsciousness once again, he was fairly certain that someone was fondling his cock.
He awoke about an hour later, but his mind was still blurry. He opened his eyes only to discover that he was blindfolded.
"Are you finally awake, Jack?" he heard a voice ask. Someone was seated or standing at his bedside. Once again the voice sounded vaguely familiar. He tried to identify where he had heard it before, but nothing came to mind. The voice continued on.
"How did you get me here?" Jack demanded to know.
"In a taxi. I told the cab driver that you were drunk. He helped me get you in and out of the cab. It's too bad you were sleeping so soundly. You missed the great blow job I gave you. Your cum was so thick and plentiful I could barely swallow all of it."
"Who are you and what do you want of me?" Jack managed to blurt out.
"I want you to love me Jack. I just want you to love me."
"Do we know each other?"
"It's enough that I know you," the voice now had a little whimper in it, and Jack concluded that he was dealing with someone who was not quite stable. He put all those thoughts aside. He needed to know if this guy was the serial killer. If he wasn't, he was interfering in police business, and someone else might be murdered. Jack thought of Larry putting himself out as bait, and he shuddered. He decided to try a desperate game with the man behind the familiar voice.
"Do you love me?" Jack asked in the sincerest voice he could muster up.
"Yes, very much."
"Then kiss me. Demonstrate your love."
The man got into bed with Jack, and lay down on top of him. He was naked and his erect cock was jabbing Jack's limp member. He placed his lips on Jack's and began to kiss him in a very fatherly fashion. Jack opened his mouth and the man responded. The detective learned what he wanted to. This man was not a smoker. There was not a hint of stale tobacco on him. If he wasn't the murderer, who was he, and what did he want?
The man was aroused now and grinding his cock harder into Jack. "Untie me," Jack pleaded "so that I can make love to you."
"I can't do that until I am sure you love me too."
"Then at least take off my blindfold."
"I can't do that."
"I don't want you to know who I am just yet, and besides I'm pretty ugly."
"You sound beautiful to me, so I'll bet you have a beautiful soul. That's more important than a pretty face. Do I know you? Have we met before?"
"No, but I know you."
"Tell me where and when you know me from."
"Maybe later, after we make love."
"What do you want to do?"
"I want to fuck you. My brother fucks me all the time, but he won't let me touch him. I have never even felt his cock to this day. He hurts me every time, but he doesn't care. We're twins you know."
"If I let you fuck me, will you promise to use a rubber and lots of lube?"
"Yes, I'm well prepared."
Then fuck me, and afterward, while we're cuddling we'll get to know each other.
The minute Capt. Barkley got Larry's call, he acted swiftly. He sent a patrol car around to pick up Larry, and hurry him to the police station, where he could be questioned. Skilled interrogators often elicited more from a witness than they knew they had knowledge of. He also sent two plain-clothes detectives to the bar to continue the vigil in case Jack went somewhere with the wrong man. The killer was not due to act until the next day so Barkley was very suspicious. He didn't think that Jack had gone off with the killer. So where was he?
Unfortunately, both detectives were very handsome and very straight. They were so uncomfortable with the gay men coming on to them, that they weren't really doing a good job at observation.
"Jack was standing at the bar nursing a drink," Larry related to Capt. Barkley and another interrogator. "We were keeping an eye on each other. I looked away for just a minute, and he was gone. I searched the whole bar, and when I couldn't find him I called you."
"Close your eyes," the interrogator requested. "Picture the scene just before you looked away. Did you see anyone coming toward Jack?"
"I don't remember seeing anyone. Hell, it was such a mob scene. Wait, I do remember seeing someone elbowing his way to the bar. I thought nothing of it, but he was also headed in Jack's direction."
"Can you describe him?"
"Yeah, average size, maybe a little above average height. He was wearing a baseball cap, NYY, but I could tell that for sure he had dark hair. He seemed to be in a great mood. He smiled and nodded at everyone he had to elbow on his way to the bar. Oh yes, he wore glasses."
"That's great. What did the glasses look like?"
"I was too far away. I really can't say."
"OK Larry. Why don't you go home now? Maybe Jack will come home or at least try to reach you."
"He'd call my cell phone. I'd much rather hang around here. I couldn't relax anyway."
"OK. I'm going to pull up pictures of likely candidates on the computer. Maybe you'll be able to identify one of them. In the meantime, why don't you go into Jack's office? There's a sofa in there. Try to get some rest.
The man untied one of Jacks legs, and then tied it to the same bedpost as his other leg. He did the same to Jack's arms so that now Jack was lying on his side. The man lubed Jack's ass really well, and reamed it a little to stretch him. He hunkered up to Jack and started to enter him. Jack could tell that he was wearing a rubber and he was well lubed. The man was being very gentle, and Jack found himself enjoying the experience. He even came just before his assailant. The man remained nesting up against Jack. He started to kiss his neck and caress his body.
"Thank you," Jack whispered.
"You made me cum. Did you enjoy it as much as I did?"
"Then tell me your name please. We are going to be great friends. I can tell."
The man giggled. "Everybody calls me 'The Dummy.' "
"No way. I'll kill the man who calls you that again. Tell me about your brother. You say he rapes you all the time."
"Yeah, he says it's more fun when it's rape. He's always picking up guys at The Main Street Bar and Grill. I drugged you with the same stuff he uses. When he gets them to their homes, he rapes them. He doesn't think that I know what he does, or that I know about the drugs."
"You didn't rape me, and I liked what you did to me."
"I don't agree with my brother that you enjoy it more when it's rape. When he rapes me it hurts."
"Thank you for not hurting me. Please tell me your name. I need to call you something."
"My real name is Marty, but everyone calls me 'The Dummy,' he repeated.
"Do you have a last name?" Jack persisted. He needed to know more about Marty's brutal brother. He fit a certain profile.
"Johnson, I think."
"Where's your brother now?"
"It's kinda late to be working, don't you think?"
"Nah, he's a cop. He works all kinds of crazy hours." Jack's body tensed.
"What's his name?
"I ain't tellin'. He does bad things. You're a cop too, and you might arrest him. I'd have nobody to take care of me."
"I'd take care of you; I swear. You chose me, and now I'm choosing you. How did you come to choose me, anyway, Marty?"
"I saw you on TV one night on the news. I fell in love with you, Jack. I wanted so much to fuck you. My brother said he worked with you sometimes, so I started to go to the precinct and I would follow you around. I followed you to the bar tonight. You are so beautiful. I love you so much."
"Is your brother's name Sam, Marty? There's a patrolman named Sam Johnson in my precinct. Now I realize why your voice and your appearance were so familiar to me."
"Yeah, yeah, he's my twin brother. Do you know him?"
"Not really well, but I've seen him around. Please untie me now, Marty. You and your brother and I are going to be great friends."
"If I untie you, will you stay with me until my brother comes home?"
"Yes, Marty, I swear."
Marty removed his blindfold, and Jack got a good luck at him. He wasn't ugly at all. He was a damned handsome man. Jack wondered who was feeding the poor man with such lies, and why. Before Marty could untie Jack's limbs, the front door opened, and Sam Johnson came in. He surveyed the scene around him.
"What the fuck?" he screamed out.
"Your brother is pretty smart for a dummy, Sam. He overpowered me by surprising me in a bar, where I least expected it."
Sam's arrogance disappeared. His shoulders sagged, "Why Marty, why did you do this?"
"I love him Sam. I wanted to fuck him."
"It's true Sam, but he really didn't fuck me. He made love to me. I even came all over your bed sheets."
"What did he tell you about me?"
"Nothing, but I surmise from the little he said that you are a good candidate for being the serial killer we have all been looking for. Why did you do it Sam?"
Sam sat down on the bed next to Jack, who was still lying on his side.
"I couldn't stand the way those old guys came on to the younger men. It galled me that they thought their sagging asses, tits and balls were still attractive. I wanted to teach them a lesson. I'm off every other Saturday so I had plenty of time to pick my pray. I'm sorry Jack. You don't fit the profile of my victims, but now that you know, I have to kill you. I'm going to fuck you first, and kill you tomorrow."
Jack looked at Marty's twin brother in disbelief. Marty may have been retarded, but Sam was criminally insane. He had little hope of surviving past tomorrow. Sam undressed quickly and got in bed with Jack. He nested up against him, rubbing his cock up and down Jack's crack.
Suddenly Marty yelled, "No you can't rape him. He's mine. I love him and he loves me."
"Shut up, you dummy. He doesn't love you. He's using you to get at me. He wants to hurt me. Just get out of the room, and let me handle this."
Jack could feel Sam's cock getting harder as it rubbed up and down his crack. He was certain that Sam was going to enter him without any lube or condoms, and certainly without preparation. He gritted his teeth.
Suddenly, Jack heard Capt. Barkley's unique gravelly voice say, "I don't think you want to be doing that, Sam."
Larry had been lying on Jack's sofa for about half an hour, when Capt. Barkley came in and asked him to come to his office. He had brought up a batch of look-alike suspects on his computer. He wasn't optimistic, but he wanted Larry to see if he could identify any of them.
As he was walking through the station on his way to Capt. Barkley's office, a cop was signing out at the desk clerk's station. "G'night," the desk clerk mumbled robotically. "See you Monday."
Larry froze in his tracks. The guy looked very much like the man who approached Jack. It was his glasses which sealed the deal. They strongly resembled the one the guy in the bar was wearing. He recognized them now. As much as Larry felt that this was the man, he was equally certain that it wasn't, but rather someone who resembled him strongly.
"I saw him... the man in the bar," Larry yelled at the captain as he barged into his office. "He's a cop. He just went home until Monday."
The desk clerk identified the cop as being Sam Johnson, but he said that he had been on duty since 4 PM that afternoon.
Capt. Barkley grabbed Larry's hand and ran to the personnel office. He pulled Sam's records. After studying them for a bit all he could say was, "WOW!"
"What?" Larry asked.
"Sam has only one living relative, a twin brother, but he's retarded, er, I mean, mentally challenged. He couldn't list him as an emergency contact, so he listed his next door neighbor. You stay here."
"No I want to go with you."
"Forget about it. I'm taking one of my men. You're not trained for an emergency." Larry reluctantly stayed behind.
When the captain and the detective arrived at Sam's apartment, they found the door unlocked. They entered quietly, and could easily see the scene enfolding in the bedroom. Marty was standing at the foot of the bed crying, and his brother, Sam, was about to penetrate Jack's ass.
The detective cuffed Sam and then threw a sheet around him to cover his nakedness.
"He confessed to me that he's the serial killer, sir. I'll read him his rights," Jack volunteered.
"Get dressed," the captain said, "and come down to the station with us. We'll need a statement from you."
"I need to take Marty with me, sir. I promised him that I would look after him. I'm afraid he's fallen in love with me. I'll call social services from the station."
Larry did not go home. He was at the station when Sam was brought in. He didn't care who saw him. He hugged Jack and cried like a baby.
"Come into my office," Jack told Larry. He took Marty's hand and led him in also.
"Marty, honey," he said. "I'm going to call a nice lady I know, and she is going to give you a new home. You'll never be raped there again. You might even fall in love with somebody else who lives there."
"No. I love you," Marty objected.
"I know you do, and I'll never desert you. Larry and I will come to see you every weekend, and we'll take you wherever you want to go: the zoo, an amusement park, the beach, wherever."
Mrs. Childs was very sweet, but she told Jack that she couldn't place Marty in a home until after the weekend. That was fine with him and Larry. They felt like they were taking a little boy home, even though he was as old as they were.
On the way home they stopped at Marty's home and gathered what little belongings he had. When they got him home, they asked if he would like to shower. He did, but Jack had to help him. Marty started to act inappropriately, grabbing for Jack's cock, which was fast getting hard. Larry stood by laughing.
After they got Marty in bed, he fell asleep immediately.
As they embraced in their own bed, Jack said, "I don't see how we can keep his sexual urges in control this weekend."
Larry laughed. "He may seem like a kid, but he's a grown man, with a grown up cock from what I could see. Don't sweat it. If he needs to be loved, let it happen."
"You're a saint," Jack mumbled as he fell asleep. Larry kissed his sleeping partner and rolled over.
It's a good thing Larry was so saintly, because sometime in the middle of the night, Marty joined them in their bed. He cuddled between them and fell fast asleep. He slept without fear, for the first time in his life.
In the wee hours of the morning, he leaned over and alternately sucked his benefactors' cocks. Larry and Jack woke up to the wonderful ministering of Marty's tongue and lips. If they felt guilty, and thought that they should stop him, they couldn't. It felt too good.
After a while, Marty begged, "Can I fuck one of you and would one of you fuck me?" he asked plaintively.
"Sure, Marty," Larry said. "In fact we are going to give you a present to make up for all the years you were abused. You're going to be in the middle."
"What do you mean?"
"We'll show you," Jack said. He reached into his night table and took out a tube of lube. He and Larry hadn't used condoms since the first week of their union.
"Lie on your back, Larry," Jack instructed his lover. "Marty fucked me a few hours ago so now, he can do you, and I'll do him."
Jack and Marty both greased Larry's ass and Marty's cock. Jack helped the loveable man enter his partner's ass, and it strangely aroused him more than usual. He prepared Marty's ass and his own cock, and entered Marty easily, too easily. He remembered that his twin brother, Sam, raped him almost every night. Jack had seen and felt Sam's aroused dick, and he knew how substantial it was. Marty would be well stretched and easy to enter.
As soon as the three men were in position, they began to pump in unison. Marty came first, unloading inside of Larry. His ass constricted when he came, and that put Jack over the edge. He came, shooting way up Marty's ass.
Although Marty's cock was massaging Larry's prostate gland, he failed to cum. Instinctively, Jack pulled out of Marty and went down on Larry, intending to finish him orally. Giggling and laughing Marty went down on Larry also, and he and Jack finished him off in short order. Both cock-suckers drank every bit of juice Larry produced.
Marty fell asleep again, but Jack and Larry couldn't go back to sleep, so they got up, showered and dressed. It was a glorious Saturday morning, and they intended on spending the day with Marty before turning him over to Mrs. Childs. Maybe he would like to go to a movie or to The Bronx Zoo. They would ask him when he woke up. Suddenly, the thought of turning him over to a social services person disturbed them both deeply. Marty was so helpless, and he needed them so badly.
Larry spoke first. "There's a great adult day care center on twenty-third Street. I could drop him off on my way to work, and pick him up on my way home. We could take care of him, if the powers that be would allow it. I hate the thought of his living in a group home, when we could give him the love and care he needs. I'd work with him. I'll bet I could teach him to read, and maybe do odd jobs around my office. His brother didn't give him a chance to learn any skills."
"I was thinking along the same lines, honey. I'll call Mrs. Childs tomorrow morning. I'll ask her to remand him into our custody, and I'll let her know what our plans are for him."
"I always wanted us to have a baby," Larry laughed.
"Are we going to have a baby?" a naked Marty asked as he came into the kitchen.
"No Marty," Larry said. "How would you like to live with Jack and me? We both love you very much."
Marty couldn't answer. He just started to cry. The men assumed that he was crying because he was happy.
"What should I tell Sam?" he asked.
"You don't have to tell him anything," Jack said. "He asked us to look after you because he has to go away for a very long time."
Marty smiled, content with the answer.
Larry and Jack received temporary custody of Marty, pending a final review by social services. One day a social worker arrived at their apartment without prior notice. Larry asked Marty to read to her from a first grade primer. He read the simple text flawlessly.
"I've skipped first grade," Larry informed the social worker. "He's a very fast learner. We're doing second grade reading and arithmetic. I'm going to start him on history and geography soon. He's soaking up knowledge like a sponge. Sometimes I bring him to my office. Now that he has mastered the alphabet, he does some filing for me, and he never screws up."
The social worker was so pleased, that with her assistance they were appointed Marty's foster parents.
Every night they put Marty to bed in his own bedroom. Sometime during the night, he would come into their room, and snuggle up to them in their bed. They tried not to have sex with him, but it was always Marty who got things going, and they couldn't resist him. They rationalized, by telling each other, that the guy was a mature adult, who needed as much love as they could give him.
They wanted their "baby" to mature naturally, and socialization was an important part of the process, so at least one evening during the weekend, they took him to The Main Street Bar and Grill. His cognitive abilities were constantly improving under Larry's tutelage. He could carry on a conversation, and most people never suspected that he was mentally challenged. He was allowed to have one non-alcoholic beverage during the evening.
One day, Larry wondered how he felt when they took him to the bar, and he asked Marty to describe his feelings.
Marty smiled. He hesitated a long time before he answered. When he did, Larry and Jack started to cry.
"I feel real," he said. "I feel like a real person. I feel like I belong somewhere. I feel loved. I realize how lucky I am to have you guys in my life. You rescued me from hell, and I don't think I ever show you enough gratitude. I have a confession to make. Sometimes when I am working in your office, Larry, I feel so useful, I just want to pull down your pants and make love to you."
They laughed through their tears.
"I'm glad you save it for our bedroom at night. By the way Marty, today is our sixteenth anniversary, and we would like to celebrate alone. Do you mind?"
"Of course not," Marty said. "Have lots of fun. I love you both so much."
Late that night, when Larry and Jack were finished making love, and cuddling in each other's arms, Larry whispered in Jack's ear, "We're going to lose him, you know."
"What do you mean?"
"He's improving every day. I'm even seriously beginning to doubt that he was ever really retarded. I think Sam convinced him that he was simple, so he wouldn't fight being raped every night. In a short while, he's going to be a viable member of society. Someday he's going to meet someone who will love him more than we do...in that special way, and he'll love back. We'll have to give him up, but I guess that's a good thing."
"Sure it is. It's like we had a real son. He grew up, went to college, got married and left us. We'll cry a little, but we'll be so happy for him. Now kiss me and let me get some rest. I ain't getting any younger."
Jack fell asleep in sheer contentment. By capturing Sam, he had saved an unknown number of lives. By getting custody of Marty, he and Larry had saved one more life, one that was very precious to both of them.
During the first six months, that Marty lived with Larry and Jack, Larry home-schooled him, with some help from Jack. By month seven, Marty grew impatient with his tutors. They were not teaching him enough, fast enough. He joined a nearby public library, and started devouring science and math books. He also began to read classic novels, which Larry recommended. He stayed up all night and read Moby Dick twice.
Jack bought him an IPad, and he downloaded even more books and information. They bought him his own computer, and he was constantly "googling" information.
By the end of the first year, Larry and Jack were tutoring him in high school subjects. They didn't have the time to work with him as fast as Marty would like, so they hired outside tutors for him. They didn't care about the cost of "teaching" him. They began to realize that Marty might be a genius, and they were honored to mentor him.
The State provided examinations for home-schooled students to assure that they were keeping up with the rest of the school population. Marty was acing all the tests. At the end of his second year of living with his foster parents, he was awarded his high school diploma, and he applied for admission to the City College of New York.
Marty didn't have much time for a social life. He cut out going to The Main Street Bar and Grill one evening a week, and he even cut down on the time he spent in bed with Jack and Larry. He preferred to read far into the night, and he didn't want to be distracted. The only time he allowed himself to be diverted from his studies, was from 3 to 5 PM every Tuesday and Thursday. On those afternoons, he went to Larry's office to do the filing.
At some point he began to browse through some of the law books in Larry's law library. Larry rarely used the library anymore. He was now doing research on his computer. Marty would get so absorbed in his reading that Larry would often go home, leaving Marty to close the office by himself.
Larry could not get over his student's growing abilities. During the summer before he entered college, Marty worked for Larry full time. One day, he asked Marty if he would like to research the law and past cases in an area that Larry needed to support the validity of a claim to some property which was in dispute. His research was so thorough and so helpful, Larry realized that Marty was the best paralegal he had ever used.
When Marty told Larry that he wanted to study law as a profession, Larry could not stop crying. At the same time, he wanted to kill Marty's parents for not allowing him to go to school like his twin brother, and convincing him that he was a simpleton. He wished that they were alive so he could cross examine them, and find out why. Larry began to think more and more about the enigma of Marty's developmental years. It bothered him to the point where it became an obsession, and he determined to solve the mystery.
New York State did not have a death penalty. Marty's brother, Sam, was serving three consecutive life sentences, without any chance of parole. The prison was in upstate New York. Larry determined to take a few days off to visit Sam and see if he could shed some light on this mystery.
Sam had never seen Larry, and was unaware of any connection to his captors. He agreed to see Larry out of curiosity. Larry made up an elaborate story. He was a psychologist, and he was treating Marty for his retardation. He told Sam he was quite confused, because Marty's brain waves were perfectly normal, yet he functioned at a seven to eight year old level. He wondered if Marty had suffered any trauma as a child.
Before he would divulge any family history, Sam questioned Larry as to Marty's well-being. Larry had to assure him that Marty was in a good home, and was thriving. Sam gave out a sigh of relief, and appeared to be genuinely relieved.
"When we were very young," Sam began, "Marty questioned my parents about everything, including their judgment in making family decisions. After a while he became such a pest they told him to shut up and stop asking questions. He wouldn't do it, and they didn't like him second guessing everyone. They began to smack him every time he questioned their authority. He learned fast enough to remain silent or risk getting beat up. In fact, he never opened his mouth, and my folks began to call him a dummy. They enrolled me in school, and kept him home. They wouldn't let him play with other kids, and always told him how dumb he was."
Larry shook his head sadly. "You see Sam. Marty began questioning everything he saw and heard before he was old enough for kindergarten. He wasn't a dummy at all. He was a genius. In fact he's starting college in just a couple of weeks."
"Bullcrap. He's a dummy and always will be. I'm glad I don't have to take care of him anymore."
"Nobody has to take care of Marty anymore, Sam. If he ever expresses a desire to visit you, will that be all right?"
"Not necessary. I don't want my buddies here to see what a moron I have for a twin brother." Larry sighed and left the prison. At least he knew now what happened to Marty in his childhood. He had been too smart for his own good.
Even at forty-three, Marty was not the oldest entering freshman. There were several senior citizens in his class. They enrolled for the college experience, which they had missed in their youth, and to learn new things. None of them was trying to start a fresh career. All their other classmates admired them.
Marty no longer wore glasses. He now favored contact lenses. His straight brown hair was speckled with gray. He was an exceptionally handsome man. His six foot stature was not marred by extra fat. He worked out in a gym regularly with his foster parents. He didn't need much sleep, and he often read and studied all through the night.
His first class on his first day was political science. He walked into the room and every female in the class stared at him. They saw a movie star. Two or three men in the room tented their trousers under their desks. One of those men was Professor Gary Stevenson.
Gary was thirty-eight. He was five feet, ten inches tall. His hair was sort of blond, but it was thinning. He had a good body and one could see that he worked out often. When he came into the room, Marty noticed him with just a tiny bit of lust. The only sex he had ever had, aside from being raped, was with Jack and Larry. They kept urging him to go out and explore other men, but he couldn't bring himself to do it, so this lustful feeling for his professor was foreign to him.
Gary, on the other hand, had no trouble recognizing his attraction to Marty. He had admitted to himself, early in life, that he was gay. He was comfortable in his skin, but he was never attracted to his boy students. At last a man had come into his classroom. Still, he knew that it was not wise to get involved with students. On the other hand, Gary was aware that a few of his colleagues were having affairs with female students. Anyway, he had to get on with class, and could pursue his desires later on.
He wrote his name and office telephone number on the blackboard. After his name, he wrote, Esq. "This is my name," he said. "You can reach me at this number if you have a problem or just need to ask a question. You'll find that I am always available. If I'm out, I'll get back to you within one working day."
He then asked the class to rise one at a time, state their names, why they were taking this class, and what high school they graduated from. "Everyone in this school is a New Yorker. I always like to know if any of my fellow alumni are in the class," he explained.
When it was Marty's turn, Gary's heart skipped a beat. "My name is Martin Johnson. I'm taking this class because I want to major in Political Science. I hope to be a lawyer someday, and maybe go into politics. I didn't go to a city high school. I was home-schooled."
"So you want to be a lawyer? As you can see I'm a lawyer. I teach Business Law and Political Science here as a sideline. I guess my first love is teaching. See me for a moment after class, Mr. Johnson. I'd like to explore your ambition a little more."
Marty was thrilled by the invitation. He was happy to stay a bit after class and risk being late for his next one.
"How would you like to come into my office when you have time, and do some clerking for me? That way you can experience firsthand if you would like to pursue your dream of studying law."
"I'd like that a lot, a lot more than you can imagine," Marty answered knowingly, hoping that Prof. Stevenson would get his drift, "but I already do that for my foster father."
"Your foster father?" Gary asked incredulously.
"Well, I mean, he fostered me when I was a kid. I still live with him and my other foster parent, but we are friends now."
"That's a really unusual situation. Most foster kids can't wait to get away from their foster parents."
"Perhaps it is unusual, but I love them dearly. By the way, Professor, what kind of law do you practice?"
"Family law. Why do you ask?"
"My foster dad, Larry Bingham, is a real estate lawyer. I think he'd be delighted to fire me, so I can work on another branch of law. I work for him every Tuesday and Thursday from 3 to 5 PM. I arranged my schedule so I am still free those hours. How does that fit in with your schedule Prof. Stevenson?"
"It fits in perfectly. My last class every day is at noon so feel free to come by my office whenever you want to. By the way, when we are not in class, please call me Gary. We are contemporaries after all." He handed Marty his business card.
Marty glanced at it and smiled. "I'll see you on Wednesday for our next class, and if possible I'll come into your office tomorrow afternoon. Now I have to run off to my next class."
Marty had two classes that morning, which ended at eleven. Then he had an hour off, another class at one and his last class started at two. That evening, Jack and Larry wanted to know all about his first day at school. Marty was as exuberant as any other college freshman describing his day. He even divulged his lustful feelings for Gary, and his mentors were pleased.
"Of course you should accept working for your professor. It's a branch of law even I know little about. You might possibly be able to help kids who are in the same boat you were in when you came to us. Go for it Tiger," Larry said, while pumping a fist.
His first class the next morning was Business Law. He didn't dare hope, but sometimes prayers are answered. Gary was the teacher.
Before taking a seat, Marty went up to Gary, smiled and said, "I can be in your office at 2 PM today, if that suits you."
"You have no idea how well that suits me, Marty. Now take a seat."
That afternoon, in his office, Gary gave Marty a research project. He looked around for the law library. Gary realized what he was doing and started to laugh. "It's all gone," he said with pride. "I do all my research on line." He gave Marty the access code to a spare computer in the office, and Marty went to work.
Less than an hour later Marty presented him with a fully annotated brief. When Gary read it he was amazed. Marty had done a better job than a highly paid paralegal. He looked up at Marty in awe. "Are you free to have dinner with me? I sense that you have an amazing story to tell me, and I want to hear all about it."
"I'd love to have dinner with you, thanks."
"We'll go to my place and I'll cook something up."
Gary closed the office at 4:30 PM. He was anxious to get home to be alone with this brilliant and gorgeous man. When they entered his apartment, Gary immediately took off his tie, shoes and socks.
"You might as well get comfortable too," he grinned. "I'm holding you prisoner until I hear all about you. I don't know if you are aware of it, but you are someone very special."
"OK, but I need to call my foster...er...I mean, my roommates to tell them that I won't be home until very late."
Gary wanted to say tell them you won't be home at all, but all he said was, "Sure. When you're done come into the kitchen and keep me company, while I prepare dinner."
Marty carefully edited his story. Larry had filled him in on his childhood, and how poorly his parents handled his brilliant mind. He told Gary all about that, and Gary looked aghast. Then he told him how his twin brother continued treating him like an imbecile. He refrained from telling him that his brother raped him repeatedly.
Then whispering, as if it was too awful to speak out loud, he told Gary how his brother's mind became warped somehow, and he began to murder older gay men. "My mentor, Jack, was the cop who caught him. He saw how helpless I was and he and his partner, Larry took me in. They made me what I am today, and I love them to death."
Gary was speechless. What could he say? He knew there was a story here, and now he knew it. Marty was clever enough not to bring in even a hint of sexual activity.
Gary saw that there were tears in Marty's eyes. Instinctively, he stood up and embraced his student. Instinctively, Marty hugged back. They looked in each other's eyes, and instinctively, once again, they both knew.
"The men who raised you, so to speak," Gary asked, "they're gay, then?"
"Very gay, and totally devoted to each other after eighteen years, going on nineteen."
Now it was Gary's turn to look sad. "I envy them. I've been looking for someone to share my life all these years, and so far no luck."
"Are you sure?" Marty asked with a smile.
"I see where you are going with this. I'm not sure I could handle living with a genius, even a gay genius."
"What do you say if I arrange a dinner date for the four of us, and you can cross examine them to find out what it's like to live with a genius."
"That sounds like a plan."
Marty was taller than Gary. He leaned down and started to kiss him. At first the kiss was fatherly, but little by little it got more passionate. Their tongues began to duel. Marty separated for a moment, put his cheek against Gary's and whispered in his ear, "How'd you like to find out what it's like to make love to a genius?"
"Just fuck me, baby. I'll try to forget you have an IQ in the stratosphere, but could we wait until after dinner? I'm starved."
They stood in the bedroom facing each other, smiling. Gary removed his shirt, and then Marty removed his. Gary removed his belt, and Marty followed suit. Slowly, methodically, teasingly, they removed every article of clothing until they stood facing each other totally naked.
Marty was uncut, his fully erect, rather plump cock, was about seven inches of pulsating beauty. Gary was circumcised. His cock was about six and a half inches, and a bit thinner than Marty's. It too was throbbing in anticipation. He fell on his bed, and held out his arms to Marty, begging him to join him.
Marty fell on top of him, and their kissing resumed as their hard cocks ground together. Marty felt an orgasm coming on, so he slid down Gary's body and literally gobbled up his dick. He came up for air long enough to say, "I'm sorry honey. I'm too hot for foreplay. I need you inside of me so badly."
He sucked sensuously, slowly, and Gary's body began to writhe. He began to moan, and Marty could feel Gary's orgasm starting. He pulled off, waiting for Gary's joy to subside. Before Marty could ask, Gary produced condoms and lube from his night table.
Marty lubed his ass generously, put the rubber on Gary's dripping cock, and lubricated that as well. He straddled Gary and gingerly sat down on him until Gary's cock could not go in any further. Gary was amazed at how little resistance he met. He was unaware of Marty's history with rape, and Marty wanted to keep his secret for as long as possible. Even while bouncing up and down on his new found love, he vowed to ask Jack and Larry to keep the sex part of his history a secret until he felt secure enough to tell Gary.
Suddenly Marty felt Gary trying to stop his thrusting. "Don't stop," Marty sighed. "Let yourself go. This isn't a one night stand. I think...I think I love you."
Gary gave out a slight sob, and began to thrust with vigor. He came screaming. "I love you too. I love you too."
Marty leaned over and started to kiss Gary with renewed vigor. All he could think about was that he would never use rubbers again with this man. He, Jack and Larry never used rubbers and he missed feeling Gary's essence invading his body.
Both Gary and Marty didn't think that a romance between teacher and student was a good idea. They tried to stay apart and see other men, but you can't deny true love. Eventually they stopped fighting their passion for each other.
Marty completed his BA in two and a half years. After graduation, with the blessings of Jack and Larry, he moved in with Gary and started law school at Fordham. None of this cost him a penny. He was on a full scholarship. After graduation, he went to work for Gary, and like Gary, he taught law classes at Fordham Law.
One weekend after graduation, he went upstate to visit his brother. Sam refused to see him, so Marty put him behind him once and for all. He and Gary had rich and fulfilling lives...what was left to them.