The beach was very crowded mostly with gay men. This Laguna Beach area is very picturesque and is usually not frequented by families. It was summer fun at the beach for Bobby who was nevertheless getting tired of being hit upon by gay guys none his age. His beautiful boyish teenage body in a thong bikini attracted other guys like flies at a picnic. He was sending all the signals, so it was expected that he'd be an attraction. The boy wanted to meet kids his own age between sixteen and nineteen and not guys in their 20's and older. Maybe next time he would ware a regular swimsuit and go to Huntington Beach where a lot of teenagers hang out.
He packed up his towel and bag and headed for his car. Three guys followed him to the parking lot. Bobby didn't like that at all. He felt vulnerable. Men twice his size made him nervous, and the boy is small for his age. Thankfully, he thought, there were several people in the parking lot. He got in his two-week-old birthday present, a BMW 540i, and drove north on Pacific Coast Highway toward Newport Beach.
Getting low on gas, he stopped at a filling station only to discover that he left his wallet at home. He had $10 in his pocket when he went to the beach but spent that on lunch and parking. There wasn't enough gas to get him home so he drove to my office in the financial district of Costa Mesa near South Coast Plaza. This is a group of towering, modern buildings filled mostly with lawyers, financial institutions and some corporate powerhouses. My offices filled the top two floors of the tallest in the district. He parked in an underground garage and walked to the main lobby.
The boy was wearing his tattered short shorts, a tank top that came down to his rib cage allowing for a plentiful display of his belly. His baseball cap was tipped backwards on his head, and he wore sandals. Walking to the lobby, he was passing women in their power suits and men in their power suits all of whom seemed to be wearing a red scarf for the women and a red tie for the men: the power outfit of the 90s. Bobby looked terribly out of place. Unfazed by his appearance and the contrast with others, he walked into the ornate marble entry with its waterfall, an information center and, of course, security guards.
Maybe no one else paid him much attention but the security guard sure did. The tall man with the big belly walked over to the kid.
"Where are you going, boy?"
"The top floor to the Perkins Foundation, sir. I'm broke and need money for gas. Someone there will give me some money."
"No begging in this building, boy. Do you know someone up there?"
"Yea."
Bobby did not give out his name to strangers, even security guards unless it was absolutely necessary. This was one of my rules. To some people the Perkins name means the same thing as saying Rockefeller. A vulnerable teenage boy should not be walking around advertising that he is the heir to one of the largest fortunes in the country.
Bobby entered the elevator along with the security guard and several other very well dressed people with their briefcases and laptops.
The elevator opened at the top floor and the passengers were faced with large gold letters that read "The Perkins Foundation" and "Perkins Investments." The lobby was elegant with expensive paintings, plush carpeting, a beautiful receptionist behind a marble counter and indirect lighting.
Bobby walked to the counter first and was expecting to get the receptionist's attention first. But the power suit people pushed him aside and made their requests. The receptionist gave them her immediate attention. This was a new girl that Bobby had not met. The guard stood patiently with Bobby wanting to know if he should throw the kid out or someone would claim this scruff ball.
"May I help you, young man?"
"I've come her, miss, to get some money for a disadvantaged teenager."
Bobby was on home turf. In situations like this he liked to tease and get a laugh for himself. It was a game for him to wait to see how and when he would be recognized. He no longer felt vulnerable. His Dad ruled the place.
"I'm sorry, young man, do you know someone here?"
The security guard had his hand on Bobby's arm ready to escort him out.
Just then Michelle, my secretary, appeared to place some mail in the out basket.
"What do we owe this royal visit, Bobby?"
"I'm a disadvantaged teenager who needs some money."
"Like you need another hole in your head. Come on, let's go."
The receptionist had not been introduced to him, and the security guard thought his work was done and left.
Some of the power suit people who pushed Bobby aside at the counter were still sitting on the sofas waiting for whomever. They looked at this scruff ball kid escorted to the executive offices where they should be going instead of siting on their asses waiting.
"Where's Dad, Michelle?"
"In a meeting, as usual, I'll let him know you're here. The meeting has been going on for an hour. He'll want a break."
"Dad hates long meetings. I'll wait in his office."
"Why are you here, Bobby?"
"I left my wallet at home and don't have money for gas. I'll get the usual five minute lecture from Dad and the usual 15 minute lecture at dinner tonight. It's always 'yada, yada, yada,' to me. I have the lectures memorized. I should recite them to him to save him the energy. I goofed up. What more can I say?"
"It's the usual. You're in a little trouble and need a bail out."
"Yea."
They entered an outer office where Bobby was introduced to my personal receptionist. Then they went through Michelle's office to get to mine. It's a corner office of the building with windows on one side looking out toward Saddleback Mountain, John Wayne Airport and south county. The other window looks out toward Newport Beach, the ocean and on clear days to Catalina Island. It has a fire place, beautiful paintings, sofas, conference table and my desk.
Bobby played with the telescope he gave me for Christmas. The binoculars on my credenza were another toy. He twirled around in my chair. This was fun. He thought he should come here more often now that he has a car. This was like being at home, secure, no vulnerability and a happy place to be. He wanted to learn more about my work. Bobby wanted a career with me or one teaching literature or one as a journalist. It's his choice, but I really wanted him to work with me.
Michelle and I entered the office. She was carrying papers for me to sign and giving me phone messages to return. Bobby swirled around in my chair.
"Hi, Dad."
"Michelle tells me you're a disadvantage teenager in need of money. What the hell does that mean?"
Bobby didn't move from MY CHAIR so I sat in front of the desk signing papers. He puts his elbows on the desk propping up his cute face.
"I need $50, Dad."
I turned to the kid in amazement.
"Use your ATM card. Why are you hitting me up? And why do you need $50?"
"I'm out of gas, Dad. You want me to drive home and get stuck on the freeway and call you?"
"Why are you out of gas? Don't tell me you left your wallet at home. You certainly don't need $50 for gas."
"Dad, don't have a stroke. Yea, I left the wallet at home. I thought it was in my backpack. Sorry."
"You're driving around without ID, a license and no money. Very smart, son. I should take the car away from you until you're more responsible."
"Dad, I know the lecture. Spare Michelle from having to hear it. I wanted $50 so I could do some shopping for our vacation. You've got all the time at dinner to lecture me. Please, Dad."
I kept signing papers. But what I really wanted to do was whip his ass right then in front of Michelle.
"Michelle, I'll be out of college in a few years. This will be my office. Do we have one down the hall for Dad?"
Bobby was swirling around in MY CHAIR. Looking at him I wondered if he'd ever grow up to actually fill that chair instead of acting like a stupid teenager. On the other hand, I wish he could be frozen in time and always be that cute teenage scruff ball I love so much.
"Son, I'm just about ready to throw you out that window. As for you taking over this office in a few years, instead I've got a perfect little broom closet for you. Here's $50 and another $25 if you'll leave now."
I really didn't want him to leave. I was just playing along with his game.
"What a deal, Dad. I came for 50 bucks and get 75. That's cool, man."
"It's coming out of your allowance and your backside tonight."
"Ah, Dad."
Bobby got up to leave, and I put my arm around his shoulder to escort him out and introduce him to whomever walked by that he didn't know. We walked into the main lobby, and I introduced him to the receptionist. For some reason a security guard was there talking to her. Some of the same people who pushed Bobby aside when he arrived on the floor were still warming their asses on the sofas. They looked at him, but he didn't pay any attention to them.
"Christi and Officer John, if this scruff ball teenager comes here again, usher him right to my office. If he wants money, throw him out."
"Ah, Dad, you're cruel."
"Don't be late for dinner, son."
"I won't, Dad. See you later."
The guard and Bobby were in the first floor lobby where he said goodbye to the man. Two men, dressed casually, were in earshot of Bobby. One said:
"That's the Perkins boy."
Bobby looked at them with no recognition. They were staring at him, and he didn't like it. He glanced at the guard with a sort of pleading look. The guard caught on and followed Bobby to his car. The two strangers also followed. The guard gave some sort of signal to another guard who followed along but kept a short distance back from the four as they headed toward the garage.
"This is my car, Officer John."
"Very nice, Bobby. That's your birthday present?"
"Yea. Thanks for your help. I'm out of here."
Bobby left quickly. The guards thought what a life this kid lives. They earn $10 an hour. This 16-year-old kid drives off in a $60,000 car they could never afford. They also noticed that the two strangers were following Bobby out of the garage. They phoned my secretary and let her know what was happening. I called Bobby on his cell phone.
"Son, are there some strangers following you?"
"Yea, Dad. I'm stopping for gas in a minute. Don't worry. If I feel too uncomfortable, I'll call you."
One of the things I drilled into him, if he was followed, was to go to the nearest police station. The next thing, if he couldn't find a police station, was to call me or the office and have some of our goons go to his rescue. I can't put a security detail on the boy. That would be unfair to him, although I've done it when we're in New York City. Bobby doesn't like that. But I worry about the possibility of a kidnaping. That boy would be held for a King's ransom, and it would make headlines across the nation.
Bobby stopped at a Chevron station not far from my office to fill up. The strangers stopped, too. This was making Bobby uncomfortable. He left the station heading for home. The strangers were still following on the freeway.
He pulled off near our neighborhood and headed for the police station. Bobby pulled into the parking area and stopped in a spot reserved for police cars. He knew this station well — as a teenage offender but more recently as member of the teenage task force to keep kids off drugs. All of the officers and staff knew him at this small station.
Bobby told his concerns to his friend and confidant Sargent Graham. This was the officer who handled his theft charge a few years ago and the officer who meets with Bobby and the teenage task force. They are very close, and Graham always looks out for Bobby. The last thing the policeman wanted was for something to happen to his young buddy. But, as a police officer, he didn't want a kidnaping, missing child, child molestation case that would make national headlines in his jurisdiction with all probability that the boy would be killed. He told Bobby to stay put in the station and chat with his friends on the staff.
Sargent Graham had a lot of concern for the young rich kids in his area. They could find enough trouble to get into on their own without having outsiders stalking them for their parents' money.
Bobby had called me with the license number of the strangers' car; he also gave it to Officer Graham. My people were checking it out.
Officer Graham was joined by another patrol car searching around the neighborhood. I had a security detail drive to our house. These were not your rent-a-wannabe-cops. They were professional bodyguards usually hired to protect the rich and famous, and they play hardball.
My people and the officers arrived at the house about the same time. The strangers' car was parked out front with the two men inside. They were now surrounded by the police and bodyguards who wanted to know a lot of things about them.
It turned out they were freelance photographers and journalists trying to do a story on rich kids and their lifestyles. They wanted some pictures and hopefully an interview with some kid so all of their research could be sold to a tabloid paper. They chose Bobby along with about two dozen other kids across the nation. The men were searched and questioned in great detail. The men had been following Bobby since he left home this morning for the beach. They had been observing him all day long. But Bobby didn't know that. Since there was no crime, they were released by the police. My people, however, told the men to stay away from Bobby if they liked to walk on two legs or some threat of that sort. They confiscated the film the men had taken of Bobby at the beach and his other activities today.
The bodyguards drove back to the police station and escorted Bobby home. The boy was very relieved to be back on the estate. He had never experienced something like this. Unfortunately, it would not be his last. He would later experience an incident far more scary that wouldn't end so peacefully as this one.
Our dinner conversation that evening centered on this incident and how he handled it. We discussed his vulnerability and how there are a lot of people who would love to take advantage of him _s_e_x_ually and, more so, go after his money and mine. Bobby knows he is the sole heir to my fortune when I die or am disabled. He also knows that I have set up a 50- million-dollar trust fund for him that he begins collecting on partially at age 25 and fully at age 30. There's a very substantial college fund for him. He also receives a handsome monthly allowance. He uses only a small fraction of it monthly and saves the rest.
When I told him about his trust funds a year ago, he had a glazed look on his face and was fidgeting.
"Is that it, Dad? May I go skateboarding now?"
Everything I had explained to him that day went right over his head, in one ear and out the other. I guess I told him too much too soon. Since that time I've explained his financial future a little slower and in terms that today he fully understands and appreciates.
For a kid who can have anything, this boy is a miser who pinches every penny. He generously gives to his church and charities from his allowance, but he does not spend much on himself. He loves being a scruff ball teenager, even at school. Bobby does not think about money or his wealth. He makes no pretense to others about his wealth or privilege. The boy does not brag or put others down. I hope he stays that way.
We also had a long talk about leaving his wallet at home. I did not like that one bit. I lectured him long and hard about that being totally irresponsible. The boy made me angry and scared to death all in one day. One was his fault, the other was not.
He kept apologizing about his irresponsibility and how scared he was with the two strangers. He was very sincere. But I was still going to punish him.
In the summer or anytime the weather is nice, Bobby is stripped down to the bare essentials. Around the house he is often in nothing more than a bikini, a thong or his running shorts. He saves his tattered short shorts jeans when he dresses up to face the outside world and wares a shirt only when necessary. Tonight he had on his running shorts.
"I'm going to punish you with a spanking, son."
Bobby probably thought this was going to be a _s_e_x_ual spanking that he would enjoy and have a neat climax. It would be a great way to end a hectic day. Big surprise, boy.
"What do you want me to do, Dad? Should I go to my room and lie down? Should I strip and stand in the corner? I deserve to be punished, Dad."
I sat on the living room sofa and put him across my lap and pulled off his shorts. The boy was naked, and I felt his strong erection on my leg. That would end very quickly.
Using just my hand, I spanked his ass as hard as I could.
"OUCH, DAD. THAT HIT HARD!"
WHACK!!!!!!!!!
"WOW! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"
The boy lost his erection and was squirming about on my lap. His ass was already red. I was whipping him as hard as I could.
"JEZZE, DAD. I'M SORRY. PLEASE, NOT SO HARD."
"GOOD, GOD, THAT HURTS. OH, MAN, PLEASE."
By the tenth spank the boy was sobbing softly.
"PLEASE, DAD. I'M CRYING. YOU'RE BEING CRUEL."
"OH, GOD, I CAN'T TAKE ANYMORE."
I intended to give him 20 spanks with each one landing with all the force I could send on his naked butt.
"DAD, PLEASE DON'T WHIP ME SO HARD. I CAN'T STAND THIS."
There was one more to go. I raised my hand, which was stinging and in pain itself and whipped him as hard as I could.
"DAD, I'M ONE WHIPPED BOY. PLEASE STOP."
"I'm finished, son."
Bobby was no longer sobbing. He was crying. He laid across my lap and just kept crying, wiping his face occasionally. It was a few moments before he got up. When he did, he put on his shorts and walked to the window and stood their crying and rubbing his ass. After a minute or two he ran to his room, shut the door, lay on his bed and cried some more. He must have felt terribly ashamed and probably was angry with me. He certainly was hurting. Bobby received a punishment he was not expecting.
In a half hour or so he came out of his room and stood in front of me in the family room.
"I'm sorry, Dad. Believe me I'm sorry. I deserved to be punished, but I didn't expect you to be so hard on me. God, that whipping hurt big time. I was angry with myself. I was very angry with you. It's OK, Dad, I still love you very much."
He still had tears in his eyes. I stood up and hugged him and reassured him my love. We both embraced, and he cried some more.
"Let's watch a movie, son."
Bobby curled up on the other side of the sofa, not sitting on his ass but resting on his hips.
Most of the time he does not finish a movie. He needs eight or more hours sleep each night. Otherwise he's too tired and listless the next day. The kid is a morning person who likes to rise about six a. m. He definitely is not a night person.
Bobby shifted himself on the sofa; his butt was probably still sore. He rested his head on my lap but was still watching the movie. When he does this, I know it's only a matter of minutes before he's fast to sleep.
The kid started snoring. When he snores, it's almost as loud as that _f_u_c_k_ing stuff he calls music. I picked him up. His lithe body was so light it seemed to me I was carrying something no heavier than a good load of groceries.
I laid him on his bed and pulled off his shorts. His ass was very, very red. He sure looked beautiful laying there with the moonlight softly shining on his body.
The next day Bobby picked up Steve at John Wayne Airport. He had been visiting his sister Susan in San Francisco. Every so often he goes to The City so Susan can show him the cosmopolitan side of life that she thinks does not exist in Orange County. She's right. Susan wants to educate her brother on the finer things in life. Besides that, she does not want her brother to become indoctrinated into the conservative attitudes of Orange County without at least seeing the liberals' viewpoint. She's right about that, too. Bobby regretted that he turned down Susan's invitation to join Steve. Normally he would have gone. If he had, all the trouble he faced yesterday would not have happened.
That night Steve stayed over with Bobby. The lover boys had been away from each other two whole days. How any human being can go that long without having _s_e_x_ is something they could not comprehend.
At dinner I knew they were planning something special for themselves. Most of the time they lounge around the house nearly naked, even at dinner. This time they were dressed in jeans, socks, tennis shoes and sport shirts that buttoned down the front. That's about as close as they get to dressing up for church or other social functions, unless we parents force them to do otherwise.
Bobby turned the indirect lights down in his bedroom just enough to create a romantic setting. The music was a little softer than what they usually listen to. They opened the French doors and turned off the air-conditioner. On this warm summer night they wanted to buildup some sweat on their bodies. They liked that. Candles were lit and placed about the room to add more atmosphere. The king size bed was stripped down to just the bottom sheet.
They stood in the room facing one another. Bobby began slowly, very slowly undressing Steve. He unbuttoned Steve's shirt and softly caressed the boy's chest by rubbing his hands inside his shirt up and down Steve's back and around to his chest. He licked and nibbled on the boy's nipples. The shirt was gently removed and tossed aside.
Bobby knelt in front of Steve and gradually unbuttoned the boy's jeans. Steve was stroking Bobby's hair and face. Bobby opened the jeans and licked Steve's navel and his belly. Then he slowly pulled the jeans down but not dropping them to the floor. His hands reached around and caressed Steve's butt. He pressed his face tightly to Steve's body. The jeans were then dropped to the floor, and Bobby slowly pulled down Steve's bikini enough to allow the boy's erect _c_o_c_k_ to escape its confines. He gently licked the organ and placed it in his mouth to softly suck on it. He did not want Steve to climax at this point. Bobby was building the _s_e_x_ual excitement in both of them. Nothing fast, they would take it slow and easy and lovingly with lots of foreplay.
With Steve naked, Bobby was still dressed. Bobby stood and Steve returned this act of love and sharing. It took nearly a half hour for both boys to undress each other.
The heat of their passion was already causing them to sweat. They tied a strip of cloth around each other's forehead to hold back part of the sweat from coming down their faces and into their eyes. Their bodies were glistening with the wetness easing from them.
They rolled on the bed caressing each other, hugging and lightly wrestling. The boys kissed and nibbled on each other's ears and the napes of their necks. They slid around each other stroking, holding, fondling and kissing all parts of their partner's body.
Steve rolled Bobby over on his stomach and sat gently on the boy's butt. He placed his _c_o_c_k_ in the crack of Bobby's ass. Steve then began massaging Bobby's back and his hips. His hands reached around and gently pinched the boy's nipples.
Steve got up and quickly lubricated his _c_o_c_k_ then returned to sitting atop Bobby's butt. He gently raised Bobby by his hips and slowly put his very erect organ deep inside Bobby.
Bobby was resting on his elbows and breathing heavily and feeling the depth and tightness of Steve inside him. Steve kept himself inside Bobby for a long time while he stroked Bobby's back and rubbed his hands around the boy's chest. He moved his hands slowly all over Bobby's back and chest. He held Bobby tightly by his hips keeping his penis deep inside the boy. Occasionally he would slowly move Bobby's hips from side to side and forward and backward. He wanted them as one for as long as possible.
This was an act of true lovemaking. Their bodies were as inside one another as close as any humans could get. The lack of speed to quickly come to a personal climax at the expense of the other made them closer and gave the experience a higher more intense meaning.
Steve reached down and stroked Bobby's penis. It was every bit as erect and strong as his own.
Steve began moving his body and Bobby's in a slow but increasingly faster motion until he finally came inside the boy. He released himself from the boy and turned him over on his back. Steve laid himself down on the bed and placed Bobby's _c_o_c_k_ inside his mouth and began sucking on it slowly and then faster until the boy was writhing in an orgasmic climax.
They both had climaxed in a beautiful way giving each other as much pleasure as they knew how. They laid together side by side for a few moments to regain their strength and come down from their mutual act of love.
The boys were sweating more than they liked and the bed sheet was a bit of a mess. They closed the door and turned the air-conditioner back on. Bobby started the shower. They took a 20 minute shower soaping each other all over, hugging and kissing as the warm water flowed over their bodies. Their embraces renewed their _s_e_x_ual excitement for each other.
Bobby dried Steve, and Steve dried Bobby. The softness and smoothness of each boy's skin and scent of the soap enhanced their excitement even more.
They replaced the bed sheet with a fresh and scented one. Bobby did the work very slowly. Steve played the impatient Top who wanted his boy to move faster. He took a light whip and lashed Bobby on his back and ass to make him move faster. The more Steve whipped Bobby, the slower the boy went about the chore of changing the bottom sheet.
After a long time of making the bed, the boys laid together wrestling lightly with each other. It was Bobby's turn to do to Steve what he had done for him. Bobby returned the lovemaking in Spades. He made every effort to give his partner as much pleasure as he could give.
Their lovemaking lasted nearly two hours. How do I know? They video taped the entire thing. I was offered the opportunity to see it alone. If this tape could be marketed, it would make a bundle of money. I was turned on throughout the tape. I was also proud that these boys were learning the true art of lovemaking. Each was more interested in pleasing the other than receiving pleasure. Somehow they have learned that if you give yourself to another you will receive an abundance in return.
It was nine p. m., and I couldn't hear a sound coming from Bobby's room. I checked on the boys and found them snuggled together in the nude sound asleep. Bobby was snoring. How Steve can stand that noise is beyond me. He must use ear plugs or be a very sound sleeper.