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Stripping His Assets

Barry Lowe

Classic Erotica

It wasn’t just his company they were after – they wanted his boyfriend as well.

Ted has built his company up from scratch and as his fiftieth birthday approaches he realizes he has neglected his much younger boyfriend in his race to accumulate wealth. In order to get back to romantic basics he and his boyfriend, Clay, head off to the country for a quiet week of reconnecting. However, the other board members of Ted’s company have other ideas. They plan an intervention – not only to wrest control of the company from him but also to gain control of his hot boyfriend.

eBook Cover Price: 0.99

Length: 5953 words

Gay / gangbang / office politics / age gap / cheating,

Heat rating: 4


“I’m not saying you’re past it, Ted.”

 But that was exactly what he was saying while pretending a concern for my position that he obviously did not feel. Okay, so I was approaching fifty. Yeah, in gay years that’s ancient. Not to me now that my birthday loomed. I didn’t feel much different to the young man of twenty-two who’d first started the mail-order business all those years ago. I’d even had the nous to go online before most of my competitors giving me an edge that allowed the company to grow to such an extent that I invited three men to join the board.

 One of those men, Sam Weeks, was explaining why he and the others, Doug Boston and Carson Towers, had decided on an ‘intervention.’ That wasn’t their word but that’s what it amounted to. And they’d chosen their moment when I was at my most vulnerable.

 I was only part listening. They’d come, uninvited, to make me an offer. Too good to refuse, they said. But essentially they wanted me out of my own business so they could run the show. Oh, sure, I’d be titular head, but they were asset strippers and there’d be no company at all to be the tit of in a matter of months, if not weeks. They thought my methods old fashioned, hence the reference to my age, and thought they, being a decade or so younger, were more attuned to the market. Besides, they’d hinted, I had other ‘more important’ business on my mind.

 That business was stretched out on the sun bed below the balcony where we were chatting. That business was called Clay and he was the reason I’d taken my first vacation in twenty years. In an attempt to save my relationship I’d brought him to the cabin for some alone time: he’d been complaining of neglect while I was feeling taken for granted. Our relationship was a scant seven years old and I guess that old cliché about the itch has a grain of truth to it. It didn’t help that he was having as much trouble with the hurdle of turning thirty in two years as I was of turning fifty in a month.

 Thirty was more important to him because all he had going for him was his looks. Not that they were fading. He was still a magnificent specimen. My wealth meant he could spend his time keeping his body trim, his hair styled, and his butt as bubbly and inviting as a glass of the most expensive champagne.

 I cursed myself for letting the others on the board know where I’d taken time out. The office could easily run for the two weeks I was away. After all, my super-efficient secretary, Casey Scott knew the day-to-day running of the firm and had my phone number in case of emergencies. I’d have a few words to say to him when I got back.

“Casey is as concerned about your welfare as we are,” Doug said when I cursed Casey for revealing my whereabouts.

“If he was so concerned he would have kept his trap shut and left me and Clay in peace.”

“I think it’s probably a little late in the day to try to save what’s left of your relationship,” Carson smirked, looking down on Clay’s inviting butt.

“That’s the pot calling the kettle beige,” I snorted.

The three of them were straight and often berated me for allowing Clay to parade around our home in the skimpiest of outfits. Their excuse was that I treated Clay as a commodity in the same sexist way that straight men exhibited trophy wives. They’d know. All three of them explored that route early in their careers. All three were divorced men: Doug was on his third wife, Sam on his second, while Carson was still resolutely single after his acrimonious divorce from his first and only attempt at marriage.

Clay and I had racked up more relationship miles than any of them.

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