Chapter 22: Crossing onto Land.
Thursday March 1st, 2019. Day #46. Last day at sea, my final sea log entry.
As the sun came up a coastal mountain range appeared ahead of us. All around us were other boats, from huge cargo ships over a thousand feet long to high speed fishing boats zooming around as we chugged along on wind power. There was so much traffic moving in different directions I had to use the radar. Around Los Angeles sailing seemed to have become a video game.
Months ago I investigated the entrance to Del Rey harbor, they had a tsunami barrier at the entrance every boat had to sail around which meant we'd need to be on battery power for the final two miles. Everyone took turns entering the harbor canal, especially when large sailboats (like Susan) were involved. On the satellite image the harbor entrance looked like a vertical bar beside an equals. |=
We could approach straight on but we'd have to make a hard right turn into the channel then stay on the right side and probably maintain no-wake and a speed under 4mph all the way into the harbor. After that I had to refer to the photos I took off the computer monitor of the harbor. This harbor was the largest one I've ever sailed into, I didn't want to tell Carlo I was actually a little scared. If he followed his normal routine he'd sit up front on the bow deck to wave at people and show off his big tits to strangers and act like that wasn't what he was doing. Dave did the same thing when we sailed across Gatun Lake. Mine were big but I rarely showed them in public. When we were in full sunlight I asked Carlo to shut off all the NAV lights.
At 10:30 we could see the two-color beacon at the entrance to the harbor. The excitement increased, Carlo said he wanted to be the first to set foot on California (I asked him if a floating pier counted). We raised the sides on the rear deck cover and put the pier bumpers out, ready to hang on whichever side we tied against. It was possible the piers already had bumpers installed and ours were not needed, but they were ready. I put on a nicer shirt and shorts, I even put on shoes and slipped my cell in my pocket along with a few hundred in cash.
At 11:25am we were three miles out, Carlo slowly dropped the sails and slipped covers on all three and tied them tightly. I radioed our intention to sail into Basin-A. I re-confirmed the slip number with the harbormaster's office, he advised car keys were waiting for me, bring my driver's license since they didn't know me.
After the tsunami wave barrier it's about a half mile down a canal to the first section of the harbor, called Basin A. It housed about four hundred boats of various sizes, our slip faced the street, Bora Bora Way where a lot of the boat owners lived in Euro-style four story apartment buildings. The entire area was focused on the recreational boating lifestyle. I shouted up front to Carlo to ask him to untie the dinghy and carry it down inside the cabin. Let me tell you, that was no small or fun task, it really caught the wind and he had to hang it over the side then swing it onto the back deck because it's not as light as it looked with a wood floor and transom. We left it on the back deck to dry for a while.
We motored around the barrier very slowly and made the turn down the main canal, about a mile in to Basin-A. I repeated my radio call to others of our intentions, then counted the pier groups down to the 3rd one (pier group A-1700) on the left and turned left again to enter the back side, our slip was on the corner. I was half expecting to see someone's boat squatting in it, but it was vacant. Carlo shouted from the bow, he raised his arm and pointed and yelled, "Its right there!"
"Can you see the utilities?" I shouted to him but he yelled back, "No!" I think the sunlight on the brilliant white piers made it hard to see below them.
The floating piers in this basin sat low above the water, so we'd need to place a step platform on the pier beside Susan to make it less awkward. As we started to back into the slip I caught a glimpse of the utility connections on the pier and turned around then drove-in bow first (like most of the others in this section). Carlo tossed the bow lines across the pier then ran to the back and tossed the stern line across the pier and jumped down onto the pier and tied us in place. I got the second stern line towards the single post sticking out of the water, then we had four lines tied and we were nearly centered but closer to the pier. I walked to the helm and shut off the DC motor while Carlo got out the power cord and plugged us into shore power, he dragged the dinghy down into the cabin and leaned it against the sofa and flipped the switch down to charge on shore power. I glanced at my watch and stood by the helm waiting on him to re-appear on deck. Then we hung four bumpers down the right side.
I gotta say a chill ran down my spine when I turned the key to shut off the DC motor, with that tiny click our trip ended (11:58am on Thursday March 1st, 2019 after 46 days at sea)! He came back on deck and we hugged by the cabin door. Carlo congratulated me on a successful trip around Central America and told me I was a great sailor. I told him he was a fantastic first mate and cook. And I added that I thought he was a great hood ornament too, he laughed and reached up and pinched his tits, "If you got em flaunt em." He proclaimed.
Carlo walked up and down the pier looking at the other boats while I jogged to the Harbor Master's office to sign papers and get my car keys, certain that the battery was dead. Beside our slip tied to the outside of the pier was what looked like a 110 foot ocean motor yacht, all white fiberglass and chrome. I really wanted to see the inside of it.
I wandered around the lot and located my car but it was still tightly shrink wrapped so I never touched it. There was no damage that I could see from its cross-country voyage on a car carrier. While I was walking back to Susan I got to thinking about the trip. When we first left Florida I planned on eight weeks to sail the 5,000 miles, it took 46 days, nearly seven weeks at a leisurely pace. I think we got here early because I eliminated a few stops from the list. But those week long stretches at sea were brutal sometimes.
I checked the GPS, it had a tide function, we were at high tide so we had to tie our ropes accordingly since Susan would be a foot lower tonight.
On the walk back to Susan I thought about my best meal and decided it was prime rib from the restaurant in Cabo and my best night was the one we spent on the back deck under the blanket, squished together and talking and gazing at the Milky Way. Carlo was there for both of those, I hoped they made a lasting impression on him too.
On the walk back to Susan I also turned on my cell, it worked fine after downloading thirty six texts, so I gave it to Carlo to use. Before I gave him the phone I used the calculator to do some math, but I thought I already knew the answer. Forty six days, five thousand miles, 5000/46=108/24=5mph average if we'd never stopped. While Carlo called his mom I gathered our laundry in the bag lady cart and we walked to the Laundromat while Carlo talked his mom (for half an hour) and updated her on our situation and emphasized that our trip was over! He never mentioned Uncle Miguel, I think she knew but I didn't want to ask.
While the wash machines ran I turned on my laptop and looked online for more information and found a newspaper article in the Tacoma Times about C&D but other than what town they came from I didn't learn much. Then I found his FB page and tried to post a note but it wanted me to register first, so I gave up. Carlo looked happy after talking to his mom without having to remind her he was on the sat phone. He said she liked to talk. His face had a smile that betrayed his inner happiness.
Carlo said it felt weird to be standing on solid ground. When there was nobody else in the Laundromat we tried walking past the top loader machines as if the floor was pitching and rolling like on Susan. I told him we'd have no problem escaping a building during an earthquake. He paused and said, "Oh that's right, they get big ones here, don't they?"
I sent an email to the manager of the law firm that recruited me that I'd arrived in Los Angeles and I would stop into HR soon. Then I moved our laundry to the dryer and continued my search for news online about Carly and ways to contact her family. Then I remembered she said her grandparents were in the lumber business so I tried searching for Cordova' and lumber' but found nothing.
After ninety minutes our laundry was done, All our laundry went back in the cart and back to Susan, Carlo made the bed and folded the clothes while I made a shopping list. We gathered things and called for an Uber and walked to the end of the pier to wait for our ride. I had the apartment tower address and phone number for their office in my cell. Fifteen minutes later he dropped us by the front door of the ten story apartment tower. Carlo was amazed by the difference between Saint Pete and Los Angeles. The lobby looked like an old Spanish Colonial Hotel from the year 1910, but the building was only two years old.
We went into the office and signed papers, I added him as a resident but it didn't change the rent. We both got door keys and key FOBs for the garage gate but we only paid for one parking spot. I carried a grocery bag of stuff (from Susan) to leave in the apartment, then we called for another Uber to take us to Target for household stuff. Before we left the office we called PG&E to turn on the power, she said water, sewer, and trash were included in rent, but internet, cable TV, and telephone were not.
We spent about $400 on things for the kitchen and bathroom. Carlo picked out most of the kitchen items but I reminded him everything was temporary (I had high quality kitchen gear in storage in Saint Pete). At Target we picked out a pre-paid smartphone and carrier for him so now he had his own Android cell. We Uber'd back to the apartment and unwrapped things and started to make the empty one-bedroom apartment look like someone lived in it.
Next stop via Uber was the furniture store. We picked out some basic items: sofa, chairs, tables, chairs for the dining table, bedroom furniture, and paid extra for delivery today, an extra $150 bucks. The sales guy tried to offer us a rent-to-own plan which made us laugh so I interrupted his pitch and moved us forward toward signing and payment. He said the sofa was top notch and we could buy it outright anytime if we liked it.
We Uber'd back to the apartment and waited for the furniture truck and crew. While that was going on I un-wrapped more kitchen stuff and filled two trash bags of cardboard and foam packing. Carlo was on the computer searching for motorcycle dealers in the area, we found one (on Venice Boulevard) that sold all the major brands: Honda, Kawasaki, Suzuki, and Yamaha, it was only 2000 feet down the street. He programmed their address and phone number into his cell, then he programmed his mother's number and texted her, she replied a few minutes later.
Ninety minutes later the truck arrived with our furniture and three guys. Using power tools and hand carts they quickly delivered and assembled our furniture, Carlo put the new bedding on the mattress and started another shopping list. He also realized we were missing vital kitchen stuff so those items went on the list too.
It took them an hour to deliver and assemble our furniture, some of the items arrived already built, (dresser, chairs, dining table, sofa, arm chairs) but the end tables and coffee table needed to be assembled with cordless drills and screw driver bits but having built these before they had everything finished quickly. Carlo tipped the crew twenty bucks each for doing a great job. We carefully inspected each item for damage before they left.
By the time they left it was 4:45pm and we were getting tired, we both realized we were missing too many things to sleep there so we Uber'd back to Susan and spent the night there. They had wifi in Basin-A so I had the internet service activated but the modem would arrive in a day or two.
I told Carlo, "There's just something about living in the luxurious confines of this cabin that really speaks to me."
"Do you want me to sleep on the back deck so you two can be alone one last night?" He said with an obvious kidding tone.
"NO! I'm just saying that it speaks to me, I have no clue why, but it tugs on something in my soul."
Carlo looked around at the highly polished wood and gold trim and said he understood, but he'd go wait outside if I needed a private moment alone with Susan. I barked, "Asshole," at him and Carlo laughed. In my fake dramatic whiny voice I told him, "I was trying to have a moment with you and you're ridiculing me..." but that just made him laugh more, so I fake sniffled several times.
I called to order delivery, we got 12" pan crust pizza, and three different sides, a 12-pack of beer, and a bag of ice. While I was on the phone and said `Twelve inch' Carlo fake looked shocked and held up his hands to show something a foot long, and we both started to laugh while I was trying to order food and not have it sound sexual. When I got off the phone Carlo mocked me, trying to sound like he was a female narrating a porn movie trailer and describing pizzas as if he was describing a group of huge boners instead. It was very funny, haven't laughed that hard for a while.
So as our first private joke we decided to try to sound erotic any time we discussed lengths under a foot long, as if we were recording a porn movie promo. `Twelve inches of smoking hot pizza, covered in juicy white cheese, dotted with meaty sausage chunks, and slices of thick red pepperoni. Our home made tomato sauce goes in and out of every crevice of the firm crust. With stick to your chin goodness our hard crust pizza satisfies everyone. Call for delivery, Dick's Pizza on Harding Street at the I-69 overpass.'
We sat naked, cross legged on the front bunk eating a fantastic pizza and six beers each. Carlo got into the liquor too, but only two shots of something brown on ice. Despite being V-shaped with hardwood walls on three sides (and the ceiling and floor) the front bunk was actually very comfortable. The hull walls gave us something to lean against, it was actually rather nice camping out in the front bunk room. It was cozy, comfortable, intimate, and well ventilated when the hatch was open. That tiny room had three light fixtures but the only thing it lacked was a fan. The ladder going out the hatch to the bow deck was built into one of the closet doors and hurt to use in bare feet but we did it all the time.
After dinner Carlo played music on his cell and chugged beers while I was on my hands and knees beside the captain's bunk checking all eight batteries and added some water to every cell. I had no idea how long it would be until they were used again. I felt Susan was going to sit there un-touched for several months at least, possibly the same as my car. My plan was to move the car to the garage in the apartment building in the next few weeks.
Friday March 2nd, 2019
Our first full day in California.
The next morning we got up and Uber'd to the apartment and worked on a shopping list. Carlo got the refrigerator turned on, we needed a thermometer too but he set the knob mid-way. He said the freezer had an ice machine so he tried to wiggle it away from the wall.
He struggled with that little job for a while and finally he called for my help.
"Hey Steve, look at this."
I turned to look in the kitchen, he was standing by the refrigerator so I walked over, he pointed to the gap above it. When I stepped up close I saw why he couldn't budge it away from the wall. I'd never seen anything like that before. The unit had a heavy canvas strap holding it near the wall, presumably so it wouldn't fall over during an earthquake! I saw it easily unhooked in the right position so I reached in and pulled the end sideways and it popped off. We rolled out the refrig and he reached behind and opened the water valve, then we strapped it back in place.
By 10am we had another monster list ready but left on foot heading west down the street. Down the street was the nearest motorcycle dealer. And since we were in the LA community of Venice the dealer had to have an Italian name: Antoni Motociclo, the sales guy said it was a bicycle dealer during the Great Depression.
I explained to the salesman what we were looking for, something lightweight that went 65mph and looked like a scooter, he suggested a new Yamaha SMAX ($4100). It met all my criteria and had a locking trunk under the seat. We discussed price for about three minutes, then I handed him my credit card and bought both of us helmets and gloves. They said it would take a couple hours to get it ready so we said we'd come back for it. We Uber'd to Target and spent $460 on household stuff and this time we also got groceries, much of it went in the freezer. The ice tray was now half full and the lower compartment said 39 degrees.
He got whole chickens, tortillas, ground beef packs, steaks, and lots of spices and stuff in cans. We got condiments and frozen burger patties and he picked out a nice air fryer to sit on the counter. We also remembered to get bathroom stuff like soap, towels, and toilet paper. We filled seven bags and put it all in the trunk of the Uber and I said we should get a bag lady cart like we had on Susan, he disagreed but immediately changed his mind. Those carts reminded him of his early childhood in Mexico and all the poor old ladies that used them in Nuevo Laredo. But making two or three trips carrying bags from the sidewalk up to our apartment overruled his dislike of bag lady carts.
We unloaded the new red shopping cart then walked back to the dealer and picked up the scooter, we bought a six month insurance policy from them since we hadn't established service locally yet. Carlo drove us back and we figured out how to open the gate and parked it in the garage in the spot with the same number as our apartment. The SMAX now had four miles on it!
Upstairs I got Carlo focused on requesting a replacement driver's license from Florida. He told me if it was mailed to the same address as they had on the license he could request a replacement online for free, which was what he did. He called his mother and told her it was coming in a couple days, she needed to Next Day Air it to us and gave her the address of the apartment. All of their conversations were in Spanish. He said she told him their house and the tire store would be sold soon. She said the new owner might close the store since they were already in the tire business.
Back in our apartment we started another grocery list, a smaller list of things he needed, he said it would be maybe two bags of smaller food items, we decided to take the Yamaha this time. We got on our helmets but stopped at the dealer and bought a backpack that color matched the Yamaha, then we went to the grocery store.
We purchased three bags of stuff and carried the stuff in the trunk and in my backpack. We looked like shoplifters walking in the Ralph's store with a brand new backpack, I'm sure they watched us on their cameras the entire time.
As we rolled away from the bicycle rack near Target I held onto his belt with one hand the other hand slowly slipped under his shirt and around to his stomach. It was 3.5 miles each way to Target.
On Venice Boulevard I memorized the names of three banks then back at the apartment I researched retail customer reviews and decided to go to the nearest one and open an account in the morning.
Late in the day I sent Carlo back to the marina to go on Susan and get our man stuff from the bathroom and our bunk room, also to flip the switch up to the solar charge position. He went there alone and handled everything, which impressed me. I had him get all the cash from the cabinet and bring it too.
He said he checked that all three sails were properly covered and all the ropes were secured. He even brought the little Italian espresso pot back to the apartment and all the remaining coffee on board along with the hand grinder. Back at home he opened the baggie and counted the money I carried on Susan, it had $27,500 left, he said he took some for shopping. I didn't reply because I didn't care but I was glad he did it without being asked.
After he dropped all the stuff he went for a ride all the way to the west end of Venice Boulevard, about three miles from home. He parked it at a bicycle rack and explored the boardwalk a little. I asked if he took his shirt off and he smiled and said yes. Of course I knew why, he liked to have people stare at his body.
We texted several times while he was gone, he took a photo of the sun sinking into the ocean west of the beach, he said the ocean water was like ice and nobody was in the water.
There was a bicycle shop near the boardwalk he stopped in and purchased a locking cable for his scooter and put it in the trunk.
At 7:15pm he came back with dinner and beers, he got Chinese carry out in those little white cardboard boxes with spring rolls, rice, pork buns, and pork potstickers with extra dipping sauces, extra soy sauce packets, and chopsticks.
Saturday March 3rd, 2019
Day #2 on dry land.
Today I opened an account at a bank down the street, but I had to sit down with the manager and explain the level of service I needed, she insisted they were qualified to handle large accounts and had never experienced a data breach but to help protect accounts all online bill pay activity and transfers were delayed by 24 hours since online had no direct connection to account information. She said if it wasn't online it couldn't get hacked.
I decided to have her activate two factor authentication and we also had a discussion about telemarketing. If I was going to trust them with my actual phone number I did not allow telemarketing calls, she said she'd mark me as only emergency contact. I warned her if I got a single telemarketing call from the bank I would be here in person to close my accounts the next day.
While I sat in their office I used her phone to arrange a wire transfer from my bank in Florida to the new bank, I was going to move two million over into two accounts. I also told her I needed to arrange a cash pick-up Monday of fifty thousand dollars in twenty dollar bills. She said everything was fine the truck arrived around 11am I should come by after lunch, anytime after 1pm.
Back at the apartment I saw Carlo had the balcony door open and music blasting on his cell, country oldies. I asked him not to play any Dolly Parton because I hated her shrill voice that sounded like Alvin and the Chipmunks.
We discussed my new employer and took a ride by their office in a high-rise office tower near UCLA about seven miles from home. On the way home we stopped for carry-out for lunch and dinner. I explained to him how I'd have to deny he existed at work until I saw how they actually treated gay employees. They all said they welcomed non-traditional families but I wanted to see how they actually handled it, I wanted to see if I was going to be the only one in the office. I told him I would probably be invited to dinner before I started work in two weeks, I wouldn't be able to bring him along.
Sunday March 4th, 2019. Day #3.
Today I called work and left the manager a voice mail I was getting settled in okay, but I could stop in to HR during the week. The office manager texted me four hours later and invited me to lunch and I could bring a friend if I wanted. The lunch was tomorrow at 11am at the Brazilian Steakhouse in Westwood. The lunch should be him, me, and two other junior partners for drinks and informal dining, no shorts or ties allowed. I planned on taking an Uber and reserved my ride the day before.
My bank transfer should be complete tomorrow too then I would stop at the bank to get the cash after my lunch appointment, but my ATM card would arrive by mail soon. I declined to let the bank take my picture, which she said was unusual. After the bank errand was done I needed to research local insurance agents too.
When I got home Carlo was gone but he left a note on the counter that he was exploring the shopping area on Venice Boulevard east of the 405 freeway. I texted him and he replied with a photo of the street while he was stopped at a traffic light. He said he purchased a cell phone mount for the handle bars that also allowed it to be used like a dashboard cam.
While he was gone I was online and found some erotic clothing for Carlo and ordered things for him. I got him fishnet shorts and shirts. I ordered him tank top shirts that were way too large so they'd droop to the side and expose his chest. I also got him two stretchy tight shirts that would reveal his shape but not show any flesh.
I also went online and purchased a stacked washer and dryer for the apartment for delivery tomorrow, the apartment manager would let them in to install and test it, I went downstairs to notify the doorman.
Carlo came home at 5:15pm with hot food. He got Italian sandwiches with hot peppers, dipped in au jus with side orders of onion rings and coleslaw. During dinner I went to the bathroom but when I came back I pulled off his shirt without asking. If I could change one thing in his behavior I would get him to avoid wearing shirts at home.
That evening we sat on the sofa and talked. After a trip to the bathroom when I came back I asked if he minded showering with me, he fucked me pressed against the shower wall. After our shower he wanked me very carefully using his thumb and first finger to make an O and slid it up and down across the rim of my head. It had been a few days so I spurted all over, which pissed both of us off but I couldn't help it. I rose up on my elbows to watch because it was as much of a surprise to me as it was to him. I liked watching my dick do its thing like it was a separate entity that grew on my body.
We wiped up the drops and he licked a few off my stomach and chest, he also licked my nips. We added more bedding to the shopping list.
Monday March 5th, 2019. Day #4.
Today was my lunch date with my new manager and the two other junior partners. We were about the same age range but the manager looked to be in his forties with gray hairs by his ears. We had a nice lunch, I made two trips to the salad bar and they had cocktails, I stuck with Coke on ice.
The two junior associates (I would become the third), one of them looked like he was from India (but no accent) and the other was pale white with a bit of a Texas drawl, he said he was from Houston. Nobody there had tattoos or piercings that I could see.
We had a nice meal, they tried to pry into my personal life but I never mentioned sexual preferences or partners or if I had been married. I wanted to keep the focus on my career and law school. But they were also curious about completing high school at such a young age, and doing the same in law school. They told me I had ancestors that worked at their office but I told them those guys were all dead and buried long before I was born, all they were to me were stories about people with the same last name. I was the first person any of them knew that was a 4th generation attorney. Then I admitted that like them I was tall too but I was part Navajo unlike them, enough for the lowest level of tribal membership but I never contacted them, my grandparents were buried in northern Arizona on the reservation.
The subject of Autism never came up, which surprised me because it was clearly mentioned on my resume, unless they never read it.
They were very curious about my sailing trip so I tried to sum that up into the shortest story I could.
"It took roughly seven weeks to sail five thousand miles, I left Tampa Bay and stopped in Cozumel, then crossed the Canal, then made four stops up the west coast. I sailed a week then stopped for supplies and sleep then left again for another week. Probably did 110 miles a day around seven miles an hour most of the way, but faster around storms. Caught a few little fish and mostly ate canned food. I think I got sea sick about eight times." That last comment made them laugh, even though we were sitting at a table in a fancy restaurant.
As far as they knew I sailed alone around Central America, and they were very impressed by that. I showed them a couple pictures I had on my cell from inside the canal locks and on the ocean. I showed them video of dolphins laughing at me going so slowly, a short video of the huge seas south of Cabo, and the rip in the sail.
We talked about class action suits and how I had become very well known in the USA as the master of the class suits. They had suggestions for possible causes, I listened carefully because that's part of what I did for a living and I was good at it. We discussed Miami and the threats and attacks, which was why I left Florida. We also discussed security at their office, it sounded like they had no security except a panic button that called 911 at the receptionists desk. I actually told my new boss that needed to be improved because class suits involved many people and lots of money it greatly increased the risk of an angry person walking in with a loaded pistol, it happened more than once in Miami and we ended up hiring an armed guard.
I asked about office attire and they said most everyone wore a two-piece suit, usually black and white. I asked about services and one of them pulled out his phone and said he could text me the phone number, so I told him to read it. I pulled out a pen and wrote it down on the drink napkin and stuffed it in my pocket.
They picked up the tab for lunch and we shook hands. I had to force myself to make eye contact when shaking hands because I often forgot and looked at hands instead because sometimes it was hard for me to steer my arm/hand into a proper handshake, due to my hand-to-eye coordination problem.
After lunch I took an Uber home and walked to the bank with an empty Target bag in hand. I got the plastic wrapped bundle of cash and confirmed the balance in two accounts then walked home with the bundle (2500 twenty dollar bills) tightly held under my arm. It was about the size of a loaf of sandwich bread. On the way back with the bag I stopped in briefly at an insurance agent's office to see what services they carried. When I got home Carlo was gone, a note on the counter said he went back to Susan to get more of our stuff, then he was going to make a quick stop at Whole Foods for some veggies and chocolate bars.
When he got back I was seated on the floor beside the patio doors reading stuff on my laptop from my new employer about their sexual harassment policy. I told him it specifically mentioned same sex marriages and benefits for non-traditional couples.
He said he wanted to buy dinner again but would start cooking at home tomorrow. He went on foot down the street he found a small place that had organic chili and hot sandwiches, it was a ten minute walk each way. I stayed at home reading through the backlog of emails. My inbox had nearly three hundred emails, many of them were spam: do I want to sell my house as-is, and my car warranty was about to expire again for the twentieth time.
That afternoon I called the work uniform company and asked about their business suit service and signed-up, I gave them the number for my old service to call and get my measurements, but she said it would be best for me to stop-by to get measured in person. I repeated my request for her to make a quick call to my previous service and she reluctantly agreed, I told her I would text them so they could print it out before she called. She got my payment info and said it could start in two weeks, I accepted. She said they could deliver to the lobby: six suits a week: shirt, tie, slacks, coat, cufflinks, and tie clasp (everything except shoes and socks) for $390 per month, billed monthly in advance. I'd put down a $1,000 refundable deposit for twelve suits. I agreed and we got off the phone after all her questions were answered. I texted my previous provider to give them my clothing sizes.
That evening after dinner Carlo discovered the narrow cabinet above the counter was literally full of bundles of cash, I told him it was his allowance. He said it was too much to count, I told him it was fifty thousand, which would be almost eleven months of pay for him. Carlo said he thought he was being paid one month at a time. I told him I changed my mind, but he still had to make it last. It might be a good idea for him to package it up into monthly packets so he didn't spend it too fast and run out.
He shouted from the kitchen, "How many twenty dollar bills makes forty eight hundred?"
I shouted back, "Two hundred forty." Then I heard him counting softly to himself, then he shouted to me that we were almost out of Ziploc bags.
Carlo said he'd never touched that much money before in his life, as kind of a joke I reminded him to wash his hands. I was still at the table eating onion rings while he was in the kitchen dividing up his mountain of cash. I yelled at him to add hot sauce, fish sauce, and ketchup to the shopping list.
After I ate the last onion ring I carried my stuff into the kitchen and saw he had his cash divided up into 10 piles and was stuffing each one into a Ziploc bag with the month written on the bag, they went into his underwear drawer in the bedroom. He seemed excited but quiet. He handed me two thousand dollars and told me I gave him too much money. I took the cash and kissed him on the cheek.
"What was that? Another test?" He jokingly asked.
"No, simple mistake at the bank. I just blurted out fifty thousand when I asked her to get me some cash."
Then Carlo quickly replied, "Said Mister Photographic Memory."
"That's right, my request was spoken, so was our discussion about your allowance. It's not included in my photo memory." Then I reached up and gently pinched his tit and left the room.
That evening we went to Target again by car, he picked out more sheets and towels, Carlo picked out clothes (for me) for around town. He said he wanted a bread machine but it had to be for a one pound loaf but they didn't have any that small so we had to order it from Amazon. We got more soaps and razors and two table lamps. He picked out two sweatshirts and shoes that color matched the scooter and his backpack. We also had a long conversation about my autistic brain and me buying clothes. I think I got him to understand why I needed adult supervision when buying clothes. Lastly, he grabbed five of the biggest boxes of Ziploc gallon bags.
Back in the apartment we went downstairs and did two loads of laundry, I ironed my new clothes on the kitchen counter.
I told him our new washer/dryer should be delivered tomorrow, he added detergent to the list.
We went to bed early but used that time to snuggle in the dark and talk. We both commented about the bed being perfectly still and how weird that was. He got up and added two small alarm clocks to the shopping list but we still had our cell phones that did the same job.
He said his mother texted him and said his new driver's license arrived in the mail, she would take it to the UPS Store tomorrow to overnight it, I told her to have them write on it to leave with the doorman.
We had a discussion about the temperature setting for the bedroom, I told him I liked a dark and cold bedroom so I could sleep under blankets and not get overheated during sex. He agreed and got up, turned on the light, and slid the setting down to 62 degrees then came back to bed.
I wiggled up behind him and reached around his front side to play with his tits, he actually fell asleep while I was molesting them.
Tuesday March 6th, 2019. Day #5.
We had the first of a few possibly sensitive conversations today, this one was about stuff in the apartment. I used the word Minimalist' several times, he used the words comfortable and homey.' It became obvious the dining table was turning into a desk, should we buy desks or not? I voted yes, but I didn't want huge behemoths clogging up the space and collecting junk and dust. We agreed to buy shelving units to put in the closet and buy two small desks at IKEA and keep them uncluttered. I reminded him I spent a lot of time on the computer and collected printed evidence for trials. I'd need space for a large printer and document scanner when I worked at home, which was common.
For some reason we sort of stayed in the same eating pattern as we did at sea, Carlo cooked us two hamburgers in the air fryer with bread he made in his bread machine, and air fried French fries too.
During lunch the subject came up about buying a TV. That started as a discussion but turned into an argument that got a little loud at times. He got excited and didn't realize he was getting loud. I told him I could not focus with the constant drone of advertisements and laugh tracks and all the crap on the TV. I couldn't deal with all the lies and bias in the media and the incorrect facts in documentaries. But we had to reach some sort of agreement. It was damn hard trying to argue with Carlo when he had his shirt off and his big red tits pointing at me.
We finally agreed to get a small TV for the living room but it had to be muted when I was home (unless we both agreed to turn it up, like football on Sundays) and it had to be off when I was working at home. I ordered him a 32" TV with a built-in DVR and 750gb hard drive. We agreed not to get cable TV but he could subscribe to streaming services, I also showed him how to log into Amazon on my laptop using my password and the credit card was already programmed in. This showed him I trusted him, I think that struck heavily in his brain when I did that.
I also showed him my porn collection in my computer and my collection of pictures and videos of him. He wanted to watch the one I shot of him in the moonlight near Key West last year.
That evening I ordered a service in Saint Pete, someone would go to my storage garage and empty it. He'd re-pack and re-seal the boxes and start shipping them to me here, two per week until done. Once they got here some of the stuff would get sold, some thrown away, some used. Half of the boxes had bathroom and kitchen stuff. So far, most of the kitchen things we purchased at Target were cheap plastic knowing I had much better in boxes in Florida that would soon arrive.
Wednesday March 7th, 2019. Day #6.
I had Carlo log into FB using his account and try to locate David Davis but there were 297 people by that name in the US on FB (Facebook) and twenty three in Washington State. We sat side by side at the dining table scrolling through them trying to find the right one. I could not remember what town he said they were from so we had to check every one. We found two, age 21-23 in Washington, one of them looked like him, but the picture looked like it was from six years ago when he was in high school. That account hadn't been updated in months, but it had photos of an oil tanker loading in Seattle.
Carlo wrote him a private message with our phone numbers and address and asked for his street address then he logged off FB.
For lunch we walked down the street to a delicatessen and ordered pastrami sandwiches and coleslaw and took them home to warm and eat.
He got a text that the package with his driver's license should arrive today before noon, the UPS driver was in the area with his overnight envelope. When it said the truck was down the street we went to the lobby to wait for it.
The package contained a hand written letter from his mother that said the tire store was sold, but no mention of money. She hired two men to move her furniture across the street to her friend's house where she was going to live from now on. The realtor sign should be in the front yard tomorrow, and again, no mention of money. We looked online but the house wasn't listed yet. He said in that neighborhood it should sell for around $150k. He said it was a 1200 square foot double-wide mobile home built in the 1980s, sitting on a private lot with city utilities.
That afternoon we got on his bike and went for a ride up the Pacific Coast Highway (PCH) to the town of Oxnard, which overlooked the ocean. They had several nice restaurants there and a nice beach too. It took two hours to get there, most of the highway was four lanes with a speed limit of 50mph. It was sunny, the sun felt hot but the ocean breezes were cool. I sat behind Carlo and kept my hands warm under his shirt. I spent a lot of time with my head sideways resting against his helmet, my eyes closed, snuggled behind him with my hands mostly on his belly but I rubbed his chest often, even at traffic lights. A few times when we were on open stretches of highway I reached down and rubbed his crotch or poked a finger into his belly button.
It was impossible to talk to each other with the helmets on so we used hand gestures. I pushed a finger inside his belly button he actually straightened up his back and pushed his stomach out to make it easier, I thought that was neat that he did that. My opinion was he just tolerated that attention but didn't actually enjoy it, maybe I was wrong.
My body was firmly pressed into his back side, my dick gently ground against his jeans, which turned me on. When we stopped for lunch I was worried I'd have a big wet spot on the front of my jeans. Carlo said, "Don't worry, stand behind me, nobody will see."
We walked inside the hot dog restaurant, Sea Dog's Hot Dogs on Harbor Boulevard and ordered at the window but sat outside on their patio to eat and watch the boats in their large harbor. Part of this town looked like Venice near where we lived.
We got kraut dogs and I got a Chicago style and fries, he got a slaw dog and fries, we split a bottle of water.
Carlo did something new, he bit his kraut dog then turned it and shoved it towards me, I leaned over and took a bite then he ate the rest of it. We never shared food in public before, which I thought was nice, it made me smile. I whispered to him that it felt like my wet spot was gone, he winked at me.
The PCH curved away from the ocean as it approached Oxnard from the south. After it crossed the Naval Air Station (Point Mugu) it ran straight into town it's about six miles from the beach. Then you got a long drive down Channel Islands Boulevard to the harbor area where we stopped for hot dogs. Some parts of Oxnard looked very old. It did not look like a poor community. At the gas station it cost $6.30 a gallon for 1.5 gallons of 91 octane. Luckily the SMAX got about 90mpg. But even at that it didn't go very far with a 1.8 gallon tank.
After the gas station we rode straight home but the traffic was a lot heavier late in the afternoon with people getting off work.
When we got back home I found my new ATM card in the mail, along with a new Visa card from the new bank. My card had a $30k limit and a daily limit of $15k. The new washer/dryer was installed while we were gone, but we didn't have any detergent and we needed more hangars too. I told him we should go to Susan and get all our clothes and bring them here.
That evening we took a car to Target and got two tiny LED alarm clocks, hangars, detergent, three desk lamps, a stack of legal notepads, a box of clicky pens, a nightlight for the bathroom, more paper towels and sanitizer wipes, some booze, and a case of beer. At the check-out he reached into the cart, and while looking in my eyes he lifted out a tall pump bottle of unscented Vaseline skin lotion. I winked at him, but he whispered, `If this crap did half the stuff they claimed my dick should look like a ten year old boy's by now.' We both laughed loudly.
He also pulled out a large box I thought contained pillows but was actually an apartment dwellers earthquake survival kit that came with videos on a DVD. We Uber'd back to the apartment and unpacked stuff, I got out my new clothes and ran the washer for the first time.
An hour later someone pounded on our door, I found a packet on the floor from my employer that contained benefits sign-up papers to be filled out and faxed or photo'd and emailed back. I told him we needed a fax machine and a phone line, he said he'd handle that tomorrow.
That evening we got a delivery from Amazon, his new TV arrived and the modem for the internet arrived too. He called to activate it and had a hard time getting off the phone and not giving them his cell number, knowing that spam texts would surely follow. But since those companies spammed every possible number combination he already started to receive spam messages on his cell.
We fucked in the shower that night, which was nice but he wasn't in one of his extreme sex modes, just normal upright fucking. I thought about calling fucking in the shower, "Water Buffalo Style" but kept that to myself since I've never seen them fuck. Since Carlo was about four inches shorter than me I had to spread my legs apart in the shower for him to achieve full penetration. We both enjoyed full penetration.
Thursday March 8th, 2019. Day #7.
The weather forecast for today was great along the coast so we took another ride for hot dogs in Oxnard, we left at 10:00am. The Pacific Coast Highway (California Highway-1) started near the Santa Monica Pier at the very end of Interstate-10. From home we got on I-405 north to I-10 which was one exit away, then west about three miles where the highway ended and became the PCH, which was six lanes wide.
It's roughly 51 miles from Santa Monica to the beaches in Oxnard, most of the way was ocean on one side and hills and state park on the other side. It's a great scenic highway but the traffic was wild, with both of us on the bike it maintained 60mph and sometimes 65mph the entire way. It got cold too along the ocean. Carlo and I both wore shoes, jeans, sweatshirts, and helmets. On the 405 and I-10 I held onto his belt, once we got on the PCH I moved my hands under his shirt against his smooth flesh.
Once again I closed my eyes and rested my body against his and rubbed his flesh. I bet I spent half the trip gently strumming his nipples. On the open highway when I had my eyes closed I felt him shift his weight back against me too, so we were firmly pressed together, which told me he really liked the ride and the attention.
We stopped at an historic 1930s hot dog stand in Oxnard, two dogs each and fries and a coke to split. We used the bathroom then stopped at a gas station to fill the tank. I saw his bike now had 390 miles on it, the first service should come up soon. We discussed having a comm system installed in our helmets while we ate our dogs.
We sat at a wood picnic table on opposite sides but nobody else sat near us. For a while he dipped his fries in catsup and fed me knowing I loved fries, but nobody ever hand fed them to me before. I had to overcome my fear of embarrassment doing it in public, and the risk of being kicked out for an obvious gay display of affection in a family restaurant. But I don't think anyone noticed or cared.
On the ride home at a traffic light he actually loosened his belt and un-did his jeans then I slid one hand down his pants, the other stayed on his tummy with a finger down the hole. We rode home with me cupping his dick and balls most of the way.
We rolled into the parking garage at 4:10pm. Before we could walk to the elevator he had to turn and face the wall and fasten his jeans. Outside our door was one of my boxes from Florida, nine more to go. There were three boxes from Amazon, using our feet we pushed all of them in the door.
He went to the bathroom, I opened another package from work that contained more insurance information. I was looking for the option to purchase additional coverage for someone living at home, but not a dependent because I needed to start coverage on Carlo, I wanted to finalize that this soon.
We still hadn't heard anything from David Davis so I emailed a friend of mine in Tampa who was a private-eye (PI). I paid him to do a basic background on David Davis and also their incident in Guatemala, along with medical records for him and Carly Cordova from Guatemala, although hers might be an autopsy report.
While I sat at the table finishing up that email Carlo walked up behind me and put his hands on my shoulders and started rubbing them. I guess he walked out of the bathroom across the living room naked with a boner and I didn't notice. He said he was horny (because of our ride) so we went to bed and I sucked his dick and stroked it the way I liked mine done, which he sometimes found to be way too intense, it often caused him orgasms that were so intense his balls were sore until the next day.
I stripped the bed down to the fitted sheet, he lay across the head where the pillows sat with his feet on the night stand. I was on the bed with my face near his groin, my left fingers on his right nipple. With spit as lube I alternated between sucking, licking, and finger jerking the rim of the head of his dick. With my other hand I massaged his tit and sometimes stretched it out, then went back to gently massaging it in ovals, around and around.
Carlo squirmed and moaned while I pumped his dick, a few times he mumbled, "Oh my God!" I saw his nuts fully retracted, it looked like he was building up to a major orgasm. I whispered to him, "Swallow or skin?" Meaning did he want me to catch it or let it fly, through clenched teeth he tried to say, `swallow.'
I felt his body growing tighter, his belly muscles were tensed up and he was nearly in tears it was so intense. One of his hands punched the mattress because it was so intense for him.
He finally squeaked out the word (through tightly clenched teeth), `SHIT!' His face was red and sweaty.
I stopped and quickly put the last two inches of his dick between my lips and two seconds later he started. I felt five or six squirts, it was a lot of liquid. I swallowed as much as I could but some still blew out around my lips. When it started he grabbed clumps of hair on my head and held on tightly (like he was riding a bronco in a bull ring) and his entire body flinched with each spurt, he shook from head to toe. He grunted with each contraction of his prostate and bucked at the hips which shoved it further into my mouth.
Finally he let go of my hair, became limp, and gasped for air. I felt his belly muscles loosen too, I let his dick fall from my mouth. It sat there inches from my nose gently dripping semen into his belly button for a minute after. Again he softly spoke, "Oh my God!" and reached up and patted my shoulder. I stayed on my side, my face on his stomach closely watching his dick become half-limp. We stayed like that for several minutes because he whispered to me `please don't move.'
Inside my brain I was very happy that I had mastered his dick and other parts of his body, that I could not only make him come but I could torture him with intense custom pleasure and make him beg and cry for relief. And when it was over he felt tremendous love for me. You can't buy that shit in a store no matter how rich you were.
Eventually I rolled onto my stomach and pressed my open mouth over his tummy and slurped the salty semen out of his belly button, then moved up to his chest and fed on his tit for a while too. Carlo held my head and moaned softly while I very gently nursed.
When I pulled off he moved my face to his and we kissed very romantically using our special `I love you' kiss several times. The moment was so passionate I got teary eyed. Carlo whispered that he loved me and I whispered it back. "That was tremendous!" he whispered, then, "My body feels all weird and I'm really thirsty."
Ten minutes later we were in the shower cleaning each other, I used my fingers to clean his belly button too.
Carlo said he thought we should take that ride every day. I told him I really liked his bike and should get one for myself to ride to work since they had a secure indoor parking lot with a guard.
After the shower I asked him to stay naked for a while, he chuckled and agreed. Every time he came near me I gently slid my hand across his dick and balls, he didn't mind pausing to make it happen. We discussed dinner and the rest of the day, I asked him to fuck me and he said he might not be able to come after the orgasm I gave him but he could probably get it up, we laughed.
While our towels were in the dryer we got back in the shower and he fucked me with his fingers and jerked me by hand. I was standing, but he was on his knees beside me. We both watched it go splat on the shower wall, then he sucked mine in the hot shower water for several minutes and we got out again and had to get our towels from the dryer and use them again.
There was a note from the apartment manager slid under our door that outlined a frozen food service available to tenants. We ordered through the doorman and it was delivered into their locked freezer in the office near the lobby. It was only suitable for ordering large frozen items, like bags of vegetables, turkey, whole chickens, steak packs, roasts, ice cream, cakes, and desserts, but everything came frozen. You got a form from the doorman and gave it back to him for the next delivery. Orders had to be in by Friday and deliveries arrived on Tuesday afternoon. We had to be sure we didn't order more than would fit in our freezer in the kitchen. They billed a credit card but once in a while they sold out on items so we wouldn't be billed until our order was filled and loaded on the truck in a re-usable box.
When the food was delivered you had to pick it up within 24 hours and take the entire order, we couldn't store anything in their freezer. Carlo took advantage and filled our freezer.
Apartment buildings like ours all had doormen again after homeless people and their crime became a significant problem in LA.
I showed him my credit card records online starting the day we arrived in Los Angeles, so far we'd spent nearly seventy eight thousand bucks! Carlo was stunned and felt responsible for a lot of it, but he was turning our empty apartment into a very nice home.
He finally got the internet TV/DVR working this evening that kept him busy for two hours. I think it frustrated him the sound had to be muted while I was home, but he could use his wireless ear buds or watch TV on his cell anytime he wanted. Carlo was in such an affectionate mood that evening we went to bed with both of us on my side of the bed, naked, he was behind with his face pressed into my hair and his fingers rubbing my flat tits until he fell asleep. I think he kissed the back of my neck twenty times.
When I was in bed with my eyes open I stared at the little red numeric display on the alarm clock and remembered it looked exactly like the one I had when I was in high school. I graduated from high school at age 15 in June, 2001. UCLA was supposed to take six years, full time. I did it in four years and graduated with honors. I never told Carlo that but I think he found out when he researched me back when we first met on Grindr.
Contact the author borischenaz gmail