The Brownstone: Scott Ch. 01

"I 'm sorry Sir but my wife is out of town this week and not expected back until late next week." I wasn't lying, she was out of town, but I also needed time to let Mr. Layton know that Tina wasn't a part of who I was in fact she had nothing to do with any part of my life.

"That is a shame, but I'm sure there will be another opportunity for us to meet in the near future. I will change the reservation from three to two and send my limo for you at 6pm. Shall that be to your home or the office?"

I had called him to take the upper hand and within a minute he had taken the lead and had me eating out his hand. Dinner the next evening was no different. Mr. Layton took the ball and ran with it the entire time while I felt like I had been relegated to the bench to watch. Things were pretty much the same over the next two weeks whenever we spent time together. I found him to be an extremely complex man who never budged an inch to see things through my eyes or let me see the real person behind the mask he wore.

Our meetings were normally relegated to his office, but there were the occasion times we would share a lunch or dinner. During the meetings at his office I was expected to report on my findings on whatever subject Michael deemed important at that moment. He loved to test my skills, my ability to multitask and work under pressure and most importantly my devotion to my work. There seemed no end to his incessant demands which I always complied with.

"Tell me about yourself Scott." He said during one meal while coffee and desert were being served. The total turnaround of going from business to personal was all part of Michael's way of trying to keep me off balance.

"There isn't much too say that you probably already don't know about me sir." I had made my point that I knew he had completed extended background checks on me.

"What about your wife? Where does she fit in?" Michael asked. "Will there be kids and the suburbs in the future?"

"Tina and I are very happy with the lives that we each lead. Neither Tina nor I have ever discussed children and I doubt seriously we will. She has her work and I have mine. We are there for each other when we need to be."

"There has to be something outside of the job you enjoy doing?" It was more a statement than a question.

"I do like to run. I normally try to run a couple of times a week when I can fit it into my work schedule. What about you Sir?"

Michael leaned back in his chair smiling. "I think you know that I'm not big on talking about myself, but I'll tell you I've come to the conclusion that there are two types of relaxation, one is physical, like your running and the other is mental, and I've found that twenty or twenty-five minutes in a nice hot steam room mentally relaxes me and works out any issues I might have. If you are ever interested indulging in an authentic steam please let me know and I will make arrangements for you to visit my club where they have the best steam room in New York."

"I would enjoy that sometime sir, but right now I have to get back to work. I have this new client that is putting these unusually large demands on my time." I said in the lightest amount of sarcasm I could muster.

I hated when someone asked me what I did to relax like Michael had the day before. Not only was it an invasion of privacy but it exemplified just how small my world really was. I had told Michael that I liked to run. It seemed to be the safest and truest answer I could give. I did like to run. I liked that when I ran I had to clear my mind of everything and concentrate only on putting one foot in front of another. The real 'hobby' I did enjoy that I couldn't tell Michael about and that I did every Friday evening without fail, was milking my cock.

It started almost a year ago when Tina began volunteering at a woman's shelter on Friday evenings. Knowing that I would have the apartment all to myself until at least midnight I cut out of work at an unheard of 5:30pm and rushed home. In the beginning I would come home and just walk around the place naked masturbating in any room I wanted to and truth be told I loved to go into the master bedroom and get on what used to be my bed and make myself cum as many times as I could.

As time went on I refined my evenings to make each Friday evening as special as I could. Sometimes it would be eating a nice delivered dinner while naked and stroking my cock, other times it was taking my laptop into a different room, other than my self-appointed cell I lived in, and watching a hot video. Lately, however, I seemed to enjoy plugging my laptop into my 55" plasma and watching live cams where I could tell the person or people on the other end exactly what I wanted them to do. When I first starting watching videos I watched man-on-woman videos but eventually I drifted to my passion, man-on-man sucking cocks. I wouldn't say I was addicted to that type of genre, but I always had my best orgasms watching a man shoot his load into another man's mouth. The same held true for live cams, watching a woman masturbate, or a man and woman making love on the live cam was okay and I normally reached orgasm, but when I was watching a man stoke his cock and cum I found my orgasms came from a deeper place and I always felt more content. The first time I told a man to suck another man on live cam I had a series of orgasms over an hour that left my balls drained and my body completely satisfied.

This week I was trying something new. Since pleasuring my cock had become a passion of mine I spent many hours researching new ways to achieve the ultimate self-orgasm. A few weeks back I had come across an article about orgasm control, more commonly known as edging. It seemed such a simple thing to take my cocks to the 'edge' of an orgasm then stop, repeatedly. I decided to take it to another level, to see how far I could push myself and stopped masturbating to orgasm Monday morning. Every morning before I got out of bed, sometimes during the afternoon when I could steal a minute away from my desk and every night before going to sleep I stroked my cock almost to the point of cumming, then stopped.

Now, five days later, my balls were the fullest they had ever been and I was to the point that I was afraid to touch my cock for fear I would shoot my load without provocation. Being around Michael all week didn't help my plight either, for the first time ever I found myself overtly attracted to another man and constantly fantasized about sucking his cock and swallowing multiple loads of what I imagined to be his sweet cum. This was a totally new experience for me since I had always considered myself a heterosexual. To be more specific, a heterosexual that enjoyed looking at man-on-man porn and had sucked cock twice and enjoyed it.

I knew going slowly was going to be the key to my Friday night date. I didn't want to rush and spoil the main event of my evening too quickly. I got home and walked around the apartment fully clothed for a few minutes. My cock was trying to control me and I had to let it know that I was going to be the boss. Finally, when I was calmed down enough I stripped off my clothes and unleashed the beast. Instead of the hot shower I took a cool one, to get myself back in check again. I could have never imagined that the torture I was putting my cock through could be so satisfying.

It was almost 10pm by the time I finished eating dinner, Chinese food from my favorite restaurant, and grabbed my laptop to plug it into my big screen. I had an arranged cam date with one of my favorite internet couples -- two men with oversize cocks that loved to suck each other off. I paid them handsomely on a regular basis to put a one-way show on for me. This week I had offered double their normal rate of $150 for an hour session if they would refrain from cumming for at least three days before our date. I wanted to see lots of cum. I was bending over to plug in my laptop when my cell phone rang a half ring then announced that Michael was calling. A part of me wanted to ignore the call, it was my time now, but Bud Fisher's face flashed before me telling me that until the contract was signed I would be constantly tested. I dropped the cables from my laptop and picked up the phone pushing the connect button.

"Am I disturbing you?" he asked without saying hello. His voice was different then the authoritative tone I was used to. It was softer and seemed unsure.

"No, I was just relaxing." I said, not volunteering too much information.

"I'm sorry I called, I just needed someone to talk to. I'll let you go."

"No." I said suddenly, "Don't hang up. I'm here if you need to talk." I couldn't believe those words had just come from my mouth. Googling for a file I call my brain I ran over the past few weeks searching for any connection between Michael and I that might have crossed the line from business to friendship. There was a long pause before he spoke.

"A year ago today my best friend died..." he said his voice drifting off.

"I'm sorry Michael it must be very difficult for you." I sunk down in the chair. My hard on was gone and the excitement of watching my two men sucking each other off left me. The only thing I wanted to think about was trying to be there for Michael.

"It is..." He said sighing loudly. "I don't normally drink, but Charles loved his single malt scotch so I decided to toast him tonight...and for some reason I keep doing it over and over again." Again his voice drifted off. All I could say was that I was sorry. "I was wondering...if you aren't too busy...if you would come have a drink with me. I know you didn't know Charles, but maybe you can help me toast him." He seemed so desperate, so alone there was no way I could say no to him.

"Where are you?" I asked.

"Downstairs."

"Downstairs where?"

"Your place" I got up and walked over to the window. Pulling the shade to the side I saw his limousine double parked in front of my building. I didn't even have to ask how he knew where I lived, that was a given, people like Michael knew everything about anyone they did business with.

"Give me few minutes and I'll be down."

"Thank you Scott...I really do appreciate it."

Bud's words about always dressing properly around Michael went out the window when I threw on my Harvard fleece and long sleeve T. As an afterthought I grabbed a jacket along with my wallet and keys. Six minutes later I was tapping on the windows limo.

Michael stepped out of the limo. The stench of scotch hit me before he even got out of the car. He was drunk, actually he was beyond that he was stinking drunk, swaying from side to side and when the fresh night air hit his face I thought he was going to keel over and toss everything. He was dressed casually, a side of him I had never seen before, in jeans and a crew neck sweater.

"Thank you" he said putting his hand on my shoulder, whether to steady himself or as a sign of friendship I didn't know or care. "You are a good person Scott Phillips...." His words were slurred as he tried to maintain some modicum of decorum. He downed the balance of the glass he held in his hand and tried to turn to get more.

"Um...maybe you've had enough" I said taking the glass from his hand.

"Do you have a car?" He whispered leaning into me. "I don't think I can get back in that limo again."

"I do. It's garaged around the block. I'll go get it, but I think you should wait here and I'll just run and get it." I propped him against the limo, waited a minute to make sure he wasn't going to fall, then ran around the corner to get the car.

The one thing of my father's I cherished above everything else was his beloved car. In the city he was always toted around in his limo, but in Pound Ridge he had his jet black 1984 Mercedes 380sl convertible. He took so much pride in that car. Every Sunday, before he left us to return to the city, he and I would wash the car and put it back in the garage until the next weekend. Even though he had bought it as a romantic gesture for his young wife, the two-seater came to represented the time we had just for ourselves.

After he died the car, along with all of the art work and anything he owned prior to meeting my mother was removed from the house and put into storage for me. The twenty-eight year old car had less than 50,000 miles on and ran like it was brand new.

Michael was still leaning on the limo, but the full glass of scotch had returned, arms crossed over his chest, when I turned the corner and parked behind the limo. He gulped the contents of the glass, bade his driver goodnight and allowed me to lead him to the car.

"Nice car." He said running his hand along the body before he sat down in the passenger seat.

"Thanks. It was my father's." The weather was mild and I asked him if he wanted to top up or down. He chose the fresh air option and within a few minutes we were sailing down the FDR towards the Grand Central Parkway.

I was enjoying the drive, it had been awhile since I had been out of the city and as much as I loved living in the big apple, I did appreciate the few times a year I was able to escape and breathe the fresh air of the country. Michael was oddly silent. At first he stared straight ahead but once we hit the FDR Drive he leaned back against the headrest, closed his eyes and let the fresh night air surround him.

Michael closed his eyes and let his mind drift back to when he met a different Philips, Scott's father -- Adam Philips.

***********************

Michael was 24 when he met Adam Philips for the first time. Charles was in the middle of closing a big deal and had been spending more time in New York than he usually did. Michael normally went up on the weekends to be with him, but after a month he decided that he could work on his Master thesis in New York just as well as he could in Washington so he decided to join him at the brownstone for a couple of weeks.

Michael didn't mind what went on at the brownstone, he just wasn't ready to participate yet. Charles was more than enough for him. He did, however, enjoy watching the men go through their routines, whether it was in the lounge fucking a submissive, the dungeon and all the cruelty that went on or even just in the atrium watching the naked men walking around so comfortable with themselves.

One of his favorite spots was the Atrium dining room, where he could study, eat and watch the men come and go. It was here that Adam first approached his table. "It's not typical to find someone at the brownstone reading such technical books." He commented after reading through the titles of the business books on the table.

"I'm in the process of selecting my thesis topic. I have to submit it to my adviser next month."

"What were you thinking?" Adam asked taking a chair across from Michael without asking.

"I know I want it to be how industry in America has been affected... I just need to figure out which industry." He said laughing.

"What about oil?" Adam said with a serious expression on his face.

It was like a light bulb went off for Michael. Not only was this a brilliant idea but he now realized who the man sitting across from him was.

"You are Adam Phillips" he said like a star struck teenager.

"And you are Michael, Charles property?" Adam stated obliquely.

"I am Michael Layton. Charles and I are together, but I am no ones property." He clarified, he understood why he phrased it the way he did, he just hated that people thought he was Charles kept submissive."

"I stand corrected." He said smiling. It seemed like such a trivial way to start a friendship, but after that day it blossomed. Adam became an essential part of Michael's thesis and Michael himself enjoying a friendship outside of his relationship with Charles.

Michael came to realize that Adam was a complex man. On one hand he loved his Catholic faith more than anything else in his life and on the other he was probably the most successful man in the oil industry and yet Adam Phillips only thought of himself as a failure. He felt he didn't devote himself to his Church the way he should, he hadn't achieved what he wanted to out of business, he couldn't conceive the child his wife had wanted and most importantly his attraction to men was against everything the church stood for.

But he was an intelligent man and somehow rationalized a solution for each dilemma. He went to church daily and took confession at least once a week. He worked twelve to fourteen hours a day. He satisfied his wife's need for a child by adopting a child through his beloved Church. He even tempered his attraction to men by only watching them never touching even though the church remained adamant that an impure thought of same sex partners was still a sin. He never partook in any of the activities at the brownstone, there were however the rare occasions when he found a submissive he was attracted to he would invite them to an alcove room and have them masturbate multiple times in front of him, it was only in the privacy of these times that he allowed himself to take his cock in his hand and masturbate also.

It didn't come as a big surprise to Michael a few months later when, late one evening, Adam asked him if he would masturbate for him. They had been at Adam's office and had spent the afternoon into the night debating a critical issue Michael had been having with this thesis.

"I don't know what the correct protocol is for this," he said, "Do I need to ask Charles's permission."

"I've told you before Adam 'permission' is not a word that fits into the equation between Charles and me. And, yes, I would very much love to masturbate for you but would feel very uncomfortable sitting naked in front of you, so if you want to watch me you will have to take your clothes off also." There was nothing for Adam to consider, he stood up, locked the door to his office, pulled the shades down and took off his clothes. The moment Adam saw Michael cock he got instantly hard.

"I see why Charles keeps you to himself." He said. Michael didn't feel it was an appropriate time to debate his relationship with Charles so he let Adam's comment go unanswered. "You have the most spectacular cock I've ever seen. Tell me, when you reach orgasm do you shoot a lot of fluid?"

Michael liked the way that Adam looked at sex as being something so clinical. "Yes, I do cum a lot, plus I can cum multiple times in one session."

Michael looked closely at Adam's body. He was almost ten years older than Charles, but like most of the men at the brownstone he kept his body in excellent shape. The thing that intrigued him the most about Adam was his cock. It was an ideal length and thickness with a mushroom shaped head that was screaming to be licked and sucked. It was the most perfect cock he had ever seen. Charles had been graced with a beautifully ample cock, and he loved the feeling of it sliding in and out of his ass, but Michael could never take it fully in his mouth and just as he loved his ass full, he also wanted to feel an entire cock deep in his mouth. Michael knew that Adam's cock would do just that.

"May I ask you a question?" Michael asked a few minutes later. He had been walking around the room, stroking his cock, but always stayed in direct sight of Adam. "Haven't you ever wanted to go further than just watching?"

"All the time Michael, but the holy Church doesn't allow that, I have to honor those beliefs."

"I can't believe anything or anyone has the right to deny our pleasure. I know the Church believes in sex for procreation, but in this imperfect world we have to find the things that bring us pleasure and hold onto those things tightly."

Michael paused for a moment trying to find the correct words. "Adam you are such a loving and gentle man, and if I may say, your cock is just so breathtakingly beautiful it should be adored. There just can't be something sinful about that."