The drill: This story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons, of continents or islands, in countries, counties, cities, towns, villages, school campuses, crowded beaches, neighborhoods, streets, cul-de-sacs, nor governmental or non-governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then why are you here? Seriously, if guy-to-guy sex stuff makes you barf or is going to screw up your mind, you should not read this story.
Various states and countries have various rules regarding reading or viewing adult material'. It is up to the reader to research this subject, abiding by their own laws. The pages of this story contain adult material', intended for an `adult audience'. Bypass this warning at your own risk.
% Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection.
Hey dudes, if you have enjoyed reading NiFTy stories as much as I have, over the years, consider adding some support for `internet $pace' or else I will have to start cutting steamy characters out of my stories.
http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html
^o^ Concluding remarks ~ reading this story could make you stiff or gooey, so I would suggest not reading it out on the trail...you might pollute the environment...just sayin'! :)
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ALeK iN wONdeRfULaNd 25
WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
^o^
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About ready to fork down a pile of rice, Keb's mouth remains wide open, which prompts Jack to say, "Uh, not which I wouldn't mind feeling those lips wrapt around it' again," he was polite, not saying the c' word at the dinner table, "but..."
"It's not that," Keb acts like Jack never mentioned something like how he thoroughly enjoyed the cock-feast last night, "but have you seen Johnny?"
Like Keb had done, Jack scans the room, "I don't see him?"
"Yeah, me neither," Keb gets up.
"Where you going?" Like Jack didn't know, "I'll come with you," curious, it whetting his lips to find out.
Nowadays, if you wanted to say anything to Johnny, most likely, unless he was taking a piss, his place was at the focus of his business, the backyard pool.
"Johnny?" Keb calls out, "Didn't you hear the bell ring?"
"I heard it, but will you look at the mess those guys left?"
"Do you see a mess?" Keb asks Jack.
"Um, not really," Jack replies.
Matter of fact, other than Johnny scrubbing at a lounge chair, everything looked like it was where it belonged. On a long bench, lined up like lingerie at Braddock's were speedos left behind, each one as if on display.
"What's this?" it was obvious to both Keb and Jack.
"My system," Johnny explains.
"System for what, baby?" Keb stands, each hand tucked in at the side of the opposite pec, like he wanted to play touchy-feely with each pit.
"Oh that. I lined them up, so when the guys come back, they can find them easy."
Keb wasn't against Johnny going to the trouble of making it easy on the gang, "Is that so? Hm."
Jack says, "You did a good job, Johnny, didn't he Keb?"
"Yeah, that he did," Keb was ready to `march on Washington' over an issue conjured up in his mind, "but why does something like this have to happen at all?"
Seriously, Jack says, "Oh look, I think this is mine."
Protection-mode kicking in, Keb says, "Put it in your pocket," while Johnny wasn't watching.
Feeling it up, Jack's first thought was wetness, "It's a little damp."
With Johnny so intent on getting every last bit of grime off a chair, he didn't notice Jack and Keb making a cover up of the crime committed by each guy who took the effort to go back to their cottage, leaving behind personal belongings, "Just take it, if you know what I mean?"
With Keb walking back to the dining hall, Jack badgers, "What're ya gonna do?"
"Oh, I'm not going to do anything, but Johnny's boss better!"
It sounded like an act of vengeance, only Jack was foggy on the tree of command, "Who's his boss?"
Keb didn't rightfully know, but since Ethan Cavanau had introduced himself as `foreman', was the main man everyone listened to during the destruction of the old barn, he chanced it being the almighty main man, "Say, I need to talk to you, Ethan?"
Even though he would like to think of himself as completely devoted to Alek, hoping they would be caught up in at least friendship as a start, he couldn't deny Keb was a hot, hot man. Another plus, after today, out at the parcel of land holding the decrepit barn, watching guys as they worked, Keb seemed to take some of them under his wing, cautioning them. This took some of the burden off of Ethan, having only to watch those at the south and east corners.
"What's on your mind?"
Alek wished he could have been a bird on Ethan's shoulder, though, instead of tuning in to the issue, began to cross-analyze how well he and the `foreman' were getting along.
From head to toe, Ethan measured up fine in Alek's book of stats. Far as personality goes, he was a nice guy, able to change from `big boss', back to easy-going person, when either one or the other, side by side at the dinner table or in bed.
By the way he approached them, Alek had the feeling Keb was with major complaint. Now, it could have escalated into a war of words, maybe more, but instead, Keb and Ethan were laughing, joking around.
When Ethan came back to the table, Keb going off in opposite direction, Alek snooped, "So, what was that all about?"
Being funny, Ethan replies, "Do I need to tell you all my official business?"
"Oh, so you were joking when you said you wanted to see what I tasted like?" Alek bribed.
"Keb was just concerned for Johnny. Seems that, and I know this, Johnny has taken on his job of keeping the pool clean, a little beyond the call of duty. Keb's issue is, the guys shouldn't be such slobs, when it takes Johnny away from the dinner table. It shouldn't be happening at all."
Smirking, Alek says, "I agree. The guys are slobs!"
Then, Alek does a mental check, remembering if he left his speedo out by the pool, but remembers, `not', since he chose not to allow his cock and balls to swim on the loose!
"Well, that's an issue," Ethan leads up to, "and that is why I've given the problem over to Keb, to solve."
He knew this was coming, Alek saying, "Keb? He's not the boss. The guys look at you as..."
"I know, I know," Ethan cuts in, "up until a few minutes ago, but from now on, they better start looking up to their new `co-boss'!"
"You made Keb a boss?"
"Co-boss," Ethan enunciates the distinction, "like, I'm not ready to turn the operations over and dump in anyone's lap just yet!"
Perhaps he was thinking just now like Aronold, Alek saying, "Like your face dumped in my lap?"
"What was that?"
"Nothing. Never mind, Eeth, just me with my mind in the gutter!"
"Not which I wouldn't mind," Ethan sees the inference, "but I think Keb show today, with a little education, he could fit right in with CK's organization."
Alek jokes, "Uh, do you think you can get me a job?"
This lead to something else, "I've been meaning to ask...just what is it you can do?"
Well, Alek wasn't prepared for this one, but could think of a thing or two, but then picked himself up, out of the gutter, "When I was 12, I took up the guitar. At 16 I decided it would make a failed career. I could still only play chords. That career out of the way, I took up drawing. After drawing about a 1000 cartoon characters, I bummed out of that as a career move. Then one day last year, our science class took a trip to the San Andreas Fault."
It stopped Alek in his tracks, thinking of one of the scientists, from the center. Asking where the restroom was, Alek was shown the way by the college work-studier, Helmut. Good thing he had his high school chum, Mike, show him what they do in park restrooms, he welcomed Helmut to gay America!
"And?" Ethan smiles.
"Where was I?"
"Apparently some place meaningful?" he smiles again at Alek, wiggling his brows!
"Science. That's what I was hoping to major in at college," Alek hoped he threw Ethan off.
"Okay," Ethan accepts Alek's vocation, "and now, about the science trip. I take it, more was rockin' than San Andreas?"
Being nicely mean, Alek retorts, "Not as much as I'm gonna be rockin' your ass tonight!"
"Oh, so you were serious about my face plant in your lap?"
They both get rocked by the microphone making a high-pitched sound, followed by Keb's voice, saying, "Is this thing on?"
Follow up, Drew yells, "It's on, you moron!"
This makes Alek say, "I hope you see what you're up against?"
Sitting back, cutting up a few asparagus with his fork, Ethan says, "I have a feeling Keb can rule this crowd with an iron fist."
"If he doesn't get killed in the process," Alek giggles.
Then it occurs to Ethan, "Well, after his training with Chico, I think Keb will be a different man."
"Wait," Alek drops a fork full onto his plate, "Chico's not here, though?"
"Right, but according to my source..."
"Cayman?"
"Is there another?"
Alek thinks for 10 seconds, then mundanely speaking, "Uh yeah, Cayman."
"Chico never made it on the plane. Cayman gets fickled every now and then and decided to keep Chico here in LA. He'll be taking Keb and any other desirables I hand-pick, out in the field and train them. After a week, trust me, Keb will be a different man."
"Chico, he used to work for your family, right?"
"Cain's family. But I was there often enough to observe."
Ethan opened on a new topic, Alek responding, "Chico in action?"
"The story starts way back, before Cain's father was married. Straight out of college, he went into business. Seeing an opportunity, Chico saved Cain's father when a business deal went wrong."
"Should I ask..." Alek was curious.
"Not much different from what you see in the movies...warehouse scene, bad guys found out, good guys surprised, melee takes place, cops come in and it's over."
"Short movie," Alek says, laughing.
"Not before Chico took a bullet for Cain's father, or else he might have grown up an orphan."
"No shit?" Alek is surprised, "and Chico came out of it all right?"
"Took it in the shoulder. They thought he was a hoodlum, but Chico was working undercover. After everything had blown over, Chico took a job working a simpler job, at the Cavanau mansion. You can fill in the rest of the blanks."
Including current events, Alek fills in some of the blanks, "Then he met Eric and now lives happily ever after in sunny LA!"
It made Ethan grumble, what many Californians wish for, "Damn, I wish it would rain!"
"Sorry. I didn't mean to put a damper on your day, Eeth!"
"Oh you didn't at all," Ethan slaps Alek's thigh, "after all, I'm about to do a faceplant and then have you explore my `San-Andreas'?"
Back to the chain of command, Alek asks, "Uh, this isn't gonna fuck up the respect I'm supposed to have for the boss, is it?"
"Could," Ethan smiles.
Keb was okay at his speech, drawing criticism from the crowd, boos, etc. Generally, he used himself as example, even though he was tidy with his speedo!
Back at his table, purposefully, guys got up and left, Jack remaining, "I don't think you went over too big with the guys, Keb?"
He liked Jack, was having a fun time with him, but then had to break the news, "By the way, Ethan asked me to be second boss."
"You're kidding?" Jack asks, thinking on what just happened.
"I know. The guys can be dumb-asses, but Ethan wants me to, as he put it, go out in the field and do some training with Chico."
"You mean, leave this place?" Jack jumps to conclusions, tummy feeling a sense of indigestion, "Like, where's that gonna leave me?"
Thinking they aren't really involved, Keb says, "Oh you'll make friends with the others, Jack."
Hand falling over Keb's hand, Jack says, "I don't want to make friends with the others. I uh," he thinks over, having visually taken on Keb's looks, "want you."
Keb thought about it, leaving his 5 digits captive by Jack's hand. Then makes his first corporate decision, "Well then, I guess I'll have to take you with me!"
"Okay," Jack gets pushy, "go tell Ethan, before you forget!"
It made Keb smile, Jack being `bossy' right now, maybe there was hope he would break out of this teenage mold, separate himself from the behavior exhibited by his cousin, Pete, "Are you sure about this?"
Taking Keb's chair by the side, Jack reels him out from under the table, "Do I look like I'm sure?"
Speaking truthfully, Keb says, "You sure look like you're sure!"
Approaching Ethan's table, Keb wasn't sure about interrupting. Either Ethan was whispering something into Alek's ear, or could be taken as their affection in plain sight, "Uh, excuse me Ethan?"
"What's on your mind?" Ethan was quick to keep hands to himself, gluing his back to the chair.
"I've made my decision, uh on becoming your assistant. And about Chico, working with him, but there's something else?"
Jumping the gun, Ethan figured it was a money issue, "Of course, they'll be a raise in it for you?"
"Not what I meant. Um, for instance," Keb goes out on a tangent, "say, if a guy in CK's organization gets promoted and like you're doing, sending me out to work with Chico, and the guy's married or something, does he get to take his wife?"
Knowing the implication, Ethan says, "Of course you can take your `wife' with you, Keb!"
"It's Jack I'm talkin' about?"
"Right," Ethan says.
Alek comes up with, "Like we all didn't know that, dah?"
"Maybe I can find something for Jack to do," Ethan lends a tiny smile, like he hadn't a clue.
"Yeah," Alek says, "like sharpen pencils?"
Adamantly, Keb says, "There's more to Jack than what you're thinking, Alek!"
It was time to drop the subject.
Ethan looks around, "Hey, where'd they all go?"
"Beach volleyball. We can go too, if you're up for it?"
Keb left with Jack, questioning over and over, how does one play beach volleyball, without a beach?
Finally, Johnny had finished almost spit-polishing the pool chairs. He even made his efforts stick, telling some of the guys, who wanted to chummy-up in a lounge chair, built for one, the pool was closed.
"Johnny?" Alek questioned.
"I know. I missed dinner, but I have my pool to think about, you know?"
He was looking, preying upon an uneaten biscuit on Alek's plate...
"Go ahead, Johnny. You earned it."
Ethan offers, "Why don't you see if there are any leftovers in the kitchen, Johnny?"
"Is Ernesto going to yell at me?" Johnny powwows before chowing down.
"Oh course not! To make sure though," Ethan gets up, places a hand on Johnny's shoulder, "I'm going to see to it myself."
Ethan needn't explain. Ernesto took it upon himself, at every meal, make a head count, which this evening he shoved the responsibility off onto Zack.
It was as if everyone in the kitchen missed Johnny, one of the chefs, from the out-sourced company, with residence in town, "We'll take it from here, Ethan."
From worry to want, Johnny accepts the friendly hand to his shoulder, "I'm Johnny," said to get the guy's name.
"I'm Ritchie," Ritchie grabs a scrap of clothing from over a hook, "and I regret to say, we don't allow guys without shirts in the kitchen."
He allowed Ritchie to salute him, Johnny giving him the honor of placing an apron loop over his head.
"Spin around," Ritchie says.
Turning around, Johnny feels the apron being tied at the small of his back. He doesn't say it feels kind of good, being Ritchie looked kinda awesome, when standing in front of him, "Thanks."
With dinner winding down, the chefs had left, except Ritchie, with the job of bagging leftovers, "You can have whatever you want. Just tell me what and I'll make a plate up for you, Johnny."
At this moment, more than food entices Johnny, "It doesn't matter. You pick it for me."
Even though, each thing Ritchie selects, he calls it out to Johnny, "Chicken or beef?"
"I'm a vegetarian."
With a chuckle, Ritchie says, "That just made my job a whole lot easier. By the way, I am too...a vegetarian."
"Don't you get sick, working around meat?"
"Only certain kinds," Ritchie adds a wink!
%
There wasn't an ocean, not even a beach hundreds of miles away from Soda Flats, Plaza di Campanello territory, but the guys had passed by a sandy area, which they had found out, was dump for materials, used in the construction of the cottages.
With no net, they all stripped shirts, tying hems together, forming a chain of cloth, empty arms looped over branches to each side. Of course, Jeremi became a hero, thinking of such a thing, in lieu of an official volleyball net!
All went well, until Jimi jumps to spike the ball, "I got it!"
Feeling like jumping 10 feet into the air, Jimi took it upon himself to try to score, pecs right up to the net.
In the counterbalance, blocking Jimi's spiking tech, Slim jumped from the other side.
However, so great was the momentum from Jimi's jump, the force behind the power took him, the net and the ball across the imaginary dividing line of teams, landing on the cushion of Slim's chest!
The scene resembled moving day for a grand piano, hoisting it to the apartment on the 3rd floor, only to have a line bust loose. Running to their aid, the guys had their doubts about Slim, coming out of this alive. Though, carefully prying Jimi from the twisted wreckage of knotted shirts and `Slim', they discover the top man able to perform a semi-pushup.
"Oh my god! Slim! You okay?" Jimi calls out.
Fortunately for Slim, when the `net' came down, one of the guys' smelly shirt-pit had fallen over the middle of his face. So, when Slim discovered he hadn't died, he still went to heaven, breathing in the musky odor, as if someone had applied smelling salts, "So far," he said, without moving.
Why would he, when his immediate reaction was one of pleasure? However, his dreamy bubble wasn't intended to last, the shirts pulled off him.
Again, Jimi snaps fingers in front of his downed victim's eye, "Slim? Talk to me, dammit!"
Like, if Jimi were into it, this was a different circumstance, the 25-year old muscleman might have gotten into traveling around, from crotch to crotch. Already there, in the perfect position to do a mass of blowjobbing it wouldn't take much effort, other than opening the mouth and making his round the circle.
More interested in Slim's welfare, that he hadn't done something dastardly, like bust a rib or `kill him', Jimi hears from Slim's lips, "Too bad I didn't land faced down!"
Witness to Jimi blocking the volleyball, Drew speaks out, "Man, that would have been some puncture wound, Slim!"
Seeing no harm done, other than the crush of Slim's frontal anatomy, they help both guys to their feet. Agreeable to all, Slim and Jimi sat the next game out.
"I would've felt really bad if something happened to you, Slim."
"Oh really? Like, how bad are you feeling at this moment?"
By his own accord, Jimi couldn't say he didn't get a tinge of pleasure, realizing he was lying, not on soft, sandy soil, but a human carpet, crotch to crotch, "Words could never say how bad I feel about it!"
"Oh? How would that go?"
Shirtless, they all still wore shorts, some not wanting to get too sandy, some snatching speedos as they ran past the pool. Briefed or naked underneath, made all the difference on either having to allow sand to fall out or wind up dancing around, shaking it loose.
Jimi, he was in briefs.
Slim chose nature's way, which had Jimi staring, "I can see you're really suffering, Slim!"
Yeah, Slim was in pain, wanting to get off, but not via an easy hand job. Taking the upper hand, he says, "Well, what are we gonna do about it?"
Taking care of business, Jimi made an excuse to tear them away from the game, telling Slim, in private, to fake having a limp!
Meanwhile, en route, Keb and Jack figured they better get with the fun and games, before work became `all work and no play!'
With Jimi and Slim stepping out, they meet them on the path. Whereas Slim had lost the limp, it was back again!
"What happened to you, baby?"
The affectionate calling made Slim pour on the sympathy, "Oh, my ankle hurts so, so bad. Mind giving a hand?"
Jimi's shoulder was already arched under one of Slim's pits. Perhaps Slim wouldn't mind a three or four-some, but Jimi had a jealous heart, "No, that's okay Keb. You and Jack go have your fun."
It was a dilemma, when Keb and Jack got to the site of the beach volleyball game, Jack asking, "What are you gonna do?"
Shrugging shoulders, Keb says, "I dunno. Which side do you want to play for?"
Smiling, Jack's mind was on an entirely different course, "No, what I mean is, do you want to keep it all together, boxed up in your briefs, or?"
Stripping shorts, Keb could see Jack didn't have a choice, but he did, "I'll keep it all together, but you go and let it all hang out, baby."
First things first, Keb watches as Jack runs over to his cousin, shouting his name, `Pete!', like he hadn't seen him for years. Second thought, cock and balls in collision, he wondered if it hurt. Apparently not, both cousins totally disregarding the impact.
While on the other side of the reconstructed `net', Jack was annexed to Pete's team.
On the opposing side, it simulates Keb getting gut-punched by the volleyball, James forcing the ball into his mid section, "Looks like you're up next, Keb!"
It generated a look of wondering from Keb, "Let me guess, you're one of those s&m players?"
"Could be," James smiles, "watch out for your mid-section. I tend to get elbowy!"
Keb forms a fist under the ball, placed atop the other hand, sending it sailing.
From experience, James knew Pete and Jack could be an easy mark. To the cousins, how he wanted to involve the pair in anything sexual, nonsexual, whichever could light the sexual spark, James would disguise it as something which could wind up on their blog. Not only out for his own pleasure, as James watches Keb rush forward to block, he licked his lips, wanting to do something with the 24-year old black man. To his advantage, James thought perhaps he had found a loophole, Keb's involvement with Jack, "Hmm."
Keb not the only one, there were other guys who fit James' prospectus. Not written down, James documented each by their face. He was into stuff other guys would think is `crazy', like clamping down on nips and while riding an ass, giving the chain a pull or twist. The more it turn James on, the harder the punch!
Most recent had been meeting Adrian Beaulieu at the line-dancing joint down the road. After a few hidden glances, both made it known there was an interest brewing.
Not much satisfaction in playing games, James made the first advance, following Adrian to the rest room.
Side by side, he chances getting his lights punched out, "I could do much, much more for those nips of yours, given the chance?" he stare at his own cock, peeing.
It worked for him, Adrian looking over the urinal wall, "Bring it on!"
Taking a big, big chance, the cub's biceps looking bigger than his, James does the unthinkable, turning away from the urinal!
Then, the two just stood there, Adrian looking down at his pissed-stained dancing outfit, James' stream waterfalling down Adrian's front.
Fortunately for James, he knew exactly what he was up against, Adrian lifting his chin, a small smile grazing the lips.
"There's plenty more where that came from. All you have to do is `beg!'"
Fortunately, there were other outfits available in the dressing room, which Adrian didn't mind giving James the royal tour!
For this evening, Adrian couldn't tear himself away from his work and would rendezvous-up with James later on. Saving up his sex drive for later, James decided to take on the `beach' volleyball scene.
In between the ball coming at them, others in the way to do their bidding, James stirs up conversation, "You wouldn't by chance be into trading off gut-punches?"
Keb looked at James like he had 3 heads, "Into what?"
It's then Keb, not paying attention, or rather distracted, gets the ball bounced off his head. Regardless, he became a hero, his hard head paddling the ball over the net.
"Looks like I owe you one for standing in for me?" James keeps the pot stirring.
"Forget it James. I'm not into it."
James turns up the flame, "Even for money?"
"What's your angle?" Keb is curious.
His angle, "I've got punch-proof abs. Just wondering if you have the same?"
"And let me guess, while we're both punching each others' abs, you're cock is growing like a snake on `roids!"
It made James laugh, both thinking of the implications, but not discounting the effect the contest could have on him, "Are you in?"
"Go pick on someone else...a dude who's into that kinky stuff?"
A guy could only try! Though, James wasn't giving up yet, looking across the way, at Pete and Jack, not fully recognizing Jack has dropped out, Maynard taking up the slack. Then, it came to him, what a great idea for a blog entry! The wheels really started turning, James thinking, if Keb wasn't game, why not tap into other resources?
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Meanwhile, on the outskirts of Soda Flats, when Chico assumed he was headed right back to East Hampton, only to have his plans thwarted by CK's often lack of keeping on target, sent off on another mission, he was lost for lack of being surrounded by models, waiters at the pool, dressed in next to nothing and other reasons to spend much time working and playing at CK's eastern seaboard retreat.
Now, lying there in bed, hands parked behind his head, he was having other thoughts, like being treated like royalty, Eric there to soothe the rough spots accumulated during a day of being wrapt up in business affairs.
"You missed a spot, Eric?"
Peering down over his Mexican-tanned bod, Chico watched, waited for Eric to get on it right away, tongue lapping midchest, at the patch of almost black hair..
"On it!"
One reason Chico liked Eric's tongue massage of midchest region, often nibbling on his nips with perfection, is Eric lying down on top of him, instead of hovering overhead.
"Mm-mm, that's nice," Chico says.
It wasn't only Eric's very talented tongue, lapping at the chest fur, but how he teased, moving to the left, wetting Chico's left nip, then to the right, back to the middle. He wasn't sure he would like it at first, wet nips being massaged by often pressurized fingertips, but with Eric's pubes rubbing on his own, "Ah-h-h-h, now you know what I like!"
Eric wasn't fooled. Chico liked everything he did, followed by words of commendation, which only made him more into nip massage, deep navel `digging,' treasure trail lapping, throat-choking holds, all the way to where Eric lifted Chico's legs off the mattress to gain deep entry underneath the balls.
If Chico thought he was master of the dance, he was wrong, inactive hands, Eric placing them on his own nips, giving Chico subtle hint, "Do me too!"
Not only limited to having his nips tweaked to perfect, painful perfection, Eric loved it! At no time in particular, stretching Chico's at arms straight above the head, Eric's tongue `tortured' the fuzzy pit fibers.
A few times, till it became a path well traveled, Chico would wonder about Eric's objectives, working his tongue from one pit, the nip on the same side, transitioning to his hairy trail and then, with insight Eric was headed for pubes. Stopping at his bellyhole entrance, Eric would leave a paving of spit, traveling back up his bod. This created quite a bit of sexual anxiety, whether Eric was going to get on with it, gobble him up, or...but Chico learned to get over this, knowing the wait well worth while!
So, even though Chico lay out on the mattress, until it was fucking-time, they both got what they wanted...until...
"Oh come on, Chico, let me come...please?" Eric begged.
Digits a little slimy from precum, Chico said, not because he was a mean ole son-of-a-bitch, more a friendly get-even tactic, "You made me wait, Eric? Now it's time you waited!"
For his own sake, Eric learned, after that first time, while Chico massaged his inner core, trying to stroke himself, it cost him...Chico's hand kept to himself, pulling out until Eric had to beg to be re-stuffed!
One night, Chico even surprised himself, mouth feeling dry, telling Eric to work himself around, till both their cock's sunk into each others' throats.
On the morn, comparing notes, Eric wouldn't let Chico rest on the misgivings of roles and doing away with such labels as top' and bottom'.
Except, that is, the times Eric had a lust for roleplaying. Then, Eric would sink into the role of bottom, boy', scum', wherever it took the two.
New at this, Chico found the deviation from normal man-sex kind of arousing. Like, the first time Eric pinned the name, sir,' on him...Chico found playing Simon says' kind of fun.
What was intended as a prank, made Chico feel like he bit off more than he could chew, when Eric responded to a reason to stop for a hold up in the action, "No problem."
"What do you mean `no problem', Eric..."
"`Boy'," Eric reminds, "I'm the boy, remember?"
Sometimes Chico got peeved at these names awarded each other, nonetheless, "`Boy', what do you mean there's no need for me to get out of bed and go to the bathroom?"
So far, everything Eric has thrown at Chico, his mind has absorbed it and he's gone along with it, though some subjects he wasn't sure, but went for it, pompously saying, "Well, long as you just gotta pee, I can handle that!"
It's the day Eric grabbed the rope, intended for himself, and wrestled Chico in the bed, till arms were bound to the top of the bed.
Chico wrestled with the facts, "Eric, untie me, you idiot! I've really got to go!"
"I know," Eric moved into place, lying his bod out, faced down, till his mouth opened wide, putting Chico's cock resting on his lower lip, treating this like one big fat joke, "but right now I really need a hot cup of tea!"
He really didn't want to, but with no choice, other than have his kidneys burst, Chico let loose.
From the smell, Chico could tell Eric couldn't swallow fast enough, until trying to suck every last drip out of his cock, turned into something of a turn on. Then, sucking out every last drop of semen made Chico unsure what to think!
%
Back at the lodge, Alek and Ethan didn't follow the rest out to the volleyball pit. Heading out to their cottage, they were snagged by another, not terribly interested in taking down the shirted net, "Hey, where you off to?"
It should have been obvious to Glenn, 2 guys, in the low activity time of the evening, walking towards where two could be together, away from other activity.
Ethan used something he had been thinking about all day, for two-fold purpose, "Well, actually Glenn, there is something we need to talk about, but right now, Alek and I are getting some quality time in."
"Not a problem," Glenn still had a problem with it.
"Good. See you in the morning," Ethan replies.
Turning to walk away, it irked him, Glenn turning back, "Uh, could you give me a little hint?"
Alek softly says in Ethan's ear, "Why don't you give him his hint, so we can get this evening going?"
"Very well, you're knowledge of geology, I just thought it would come in handy, with all the goings on."
"That's cool," Glenn replies. Though, it didn't explain everything, "but how would that affect me?"
Standing slightly to Ethan's leg was a plus for Alek, being he was already hooked on some hot man-sex and Ethan's leg was a good way of hiding the fact he was already feeling perky!
"I really need to work out the details, Glenn, if you can ask me tomorrow?" Ethan sums it up, for now.
"Sure," Glenn wasn't stoopid. "Sorry to keep you and Alek from your fun."
It wasn't about to last, Hunter returning from the outdoor showering facility, waist towel-wrapped and coming upon the trio on the slate pathway, "Oh, it's you, Johnson." Then, with immediate response to his own choice of words, Hunter says, "I mean, Alek...sorry," to the others, "I meant Alek, not Johnson."
Rather than having Hunter get himself tongue-twisted up in a downhill spire, Alek dives in, "Hunter?"
"What?"
Perhaps Alek was using his gaydar, sixth sense, or `writing on the wall', Glenn's eyes all over his former park-player, "You still look wet?"
"Oh that," Hunter was ready to untuck the towel around his hips, but hesitates, using hands to feel up the results of not drying off completely, "When I stepped out of the shower, I kinda felt...a chill...down there."
Like Alek was thinking, Glenn whips his tee shirt off, saying, "It's not a towel, but it'll keep..." he was ready to say, dry off, keep warm, having seen Hunter's nips firm, probably the cool evening air making them that way, "you from catching your death of cold?"
It took Glenn out of their attempts to crash in their cottage, Ethan telling Alek, "I still consider Glenn a highly intelligent individual, but he needs work on his pickup skills!"
"Oh really, Eeth? Like, you don't need help for yourself?"
Already, it started to get foggy, in Ethan's mind, "How did we meet?"
Alek says sarcastically, "I have a feeling I should start a journal, so 40 years from now we don't need to get in an argument of who was the first to propose to who!"
"Oh really?" not which Ethan wasn't feeling it already. "Getting a little ahead of yourself, aren't you?"
"Maybe," Alek didn't care, grabbing Ethan by the middle of his shirt, pulling him in for a lip-lock!
Breaking off, Alek working some of the wrinkles out of Ethan's shirt, Ethan is stunned by the more than sweet kiss, "Like, what was that all about?"
"You don't know?" Alek answers with a suitable question.
"Um, could it be you're crazily in love with me?"
"If you're not the same," Alek spells it out, "then tell me and I won't waste any cherry juice on you tonight!"
Seeing right into this, like an answer at the bottom of a wishing well, Ethan says like a hint, "By the way, I'm a virgin."
Grabbing Ethan by the sides of his pants, hands feeling the leather belt, tummies butting into each other, Alek says, "Are you saying that, because you no longer wish to be?"
"Uh, I think that is yet to be determined!"
Thinking on it, putting the park restroom affairs behind him, Alek says, "I'd much rather do it in the confines of our room, unless you know of a local park around here which has restrooms?"
"Don't even think about it," Ethan gets grabby with Alek's belt-line, leading him down the slated walk towards their cottage.
Two feet from their cottage, they hear ringing out in the semi-darkness, sun almost hidden behind the bluffs, "Alek, wait up there a minute! I've gotten something to tell you!"
There were some voices Alek couldn't make out in the dark, but one he's known almost all of his life, informs Ethan, "Wyatt. I wonder what he wants?"
"A threeway?" Ethan mentions.
"What? After your little speech about wanting a monogamous relationship, not more than a half hour ago?"
"Oh, did I say monogamous?"
Wyatt, Alek's cousin, felt no inhibitions about physically tearing him away from Ethan, "I gotta get Alek a minute!"
Apparently Wyatt, in his self-excitement didn't hear, but Alek did, Ethan saying, "What for?"
"I doubt what you're thinking, Eeth!"
Off to the side of the road, not which Wyatt needed things to be incognito, "Guess what?"
"I dunno, Wy, but can you make it fast? I had an uprising about to spring out of my pants."
Glancing down, up, Wyatt says, "Oh," glances down, realizing why Alek and Ethan were headed to the cottage, "I hope I didn't mess anything up for you and the boss?"
"He's only the boss when he's on the clock, Wyatt. Now, convince me why you messed up my biological time clock, ready to sound the alarm?"
Digressing for a minute, Wyatt says, "You were always good with metaphors...but oh, the big news...you know how I always thought of having my own modeling agency?"
"Where you can be surrounded by boys, for the sole purpose of having `sex' at your fingertips?"
"Shut up," Wyatt says, which between the too, wasn't him being nasty. "I'm legit now and when I mentioned my career move to CK, guess what he said?"
"Sex once a day and he'll turn over his empire to you?"
"Nope," Wyatt was tired of going off topic, "but CK says he's going to put me in charge of his East Hampton estate, while he's out here supervising the building. Cool, huh?"
"What do you know about running a business, Wy?"
Wyatt, 9 years older than Alek, really became more friends when Wyatt was in grad school, at a business college. Alek knew he had a cousin, finally meeting him when Wyatt stay in Cali, his folks going off to some worldly destination. Being Alek's `rents hadn't kept 24-hour tabs on him since the tween years of his life, he spent much of his time with Wyatt.
"I have a master's in business, dah?"
It had been known fact, Alek knowing Wyatt wasn't exactly an Einstein, that achieving a high grade point average must have entailed some under the table, or under the sheets bribery!
"Right, Wy, but you haven't done much in the way of conducting business, other than the tricks you have come to the mansion?"
It made Wyatt smile, a brilliant one, teeth showing, thinking back on an incident, "Remember how my father `had' to be home that one time, when that dude showed up?"
Tired of waiting, Ethan came over, stood behind Alek's back and hung, enticed by the playfulness of Wyatt, the stories, which seemed like they were headed for an entertaining soap opera story on Tv or capture the imagination of a dude into gay porn.
"Uh, I think I mentioned, I've used the scenario in my head to jerk off to?"
Finally, Ethan speaks up, "Anyone want to fill me in, since I've lost my erection?"
Alek could not deny he was excited for Wyatt, his new success. After all, if it hadn't been for his cousin, he would not know much about anything `gay' in the world, even involving himself in the s&m phenomena, "Maybe you should fill Eeth in, Wyatt, since he'll only bug me for details later on and I might miss something important in the story?"
"Sure," Wyatt replies. "Okay if we use your cottage?"
Wyatt hustles it up, Alek and Ethan hanging back.
Soon as Alek gave the ok, with Ethan stating, `Why not?', Wyatt made a beeline for the door.
Unlike the other two, Wyatt would have shucked the shirt long time ago, only the bugs were bugging him. However, soon as they step inside the door, Wyatt loses it!
"Uh, Wyatt," Alek says, "you weren't invited here for a reenactment?"
"Oh," the shirt he just let fall from behind the back, shimmies it up, until all they could see is a strip of hairy front.
On the theory, `a taste of honey is worse than none at all,' Ethan says, "But that doesn't mean, if you're hot, you can't take it off?"
Alek turns to Ethan, a strange look on his face, "Do you have to encourage him?"
Unbuttoning the rest of his own shirt, Ethan says, "It `is' kind of humid in here?"
"Great," Alek says facetiously, "then maybe I should leave you two alone..."
"Oh no," Wyatt blocks his cousin from leaving, "what's gonna happen if I leave something out. Nope, I need you here to fill in that blank, when I get to it...uh, blanks?"
"By the way," Ethan felt compulsion rising, "you have a very beautiful chest, Wyatt!"
Alek smirks, but seeing nothing could really go so terribly wrong, especially since he agrees with Ethan, "I guess I owe ya that much, Wy."
He did...owe Wyatt much. Barely 18-years old, where could a guy, without getting into trouble, be able to talk shop with a dude older than himself, sitting there, naked-man to naked-man and use the older, wiser gay man for a talking encyclopedia, complete with a live video feed?
"I knew you'd come around, cuzz...all right if I strip?"
Ethan looked to Alek, like asking for approval.
Trust was part of their relationship. From the onset of their clandestine, educational get togethers, Alek made it clear from the start, that what's done and said in the room they share, didn't venture from it. From then, to now, the trust he and Wyatt have, has been part of the bond keeping the brotherly relationship in tact, which is why he figured no harm, "Whatever you want to do, Eeth."
Stripping his pants, Wyatt says, "Be careful what you wish for there, cuzz!"
When Wyatt stripped to bare nothingness, Ethan down to his briefs, Alek felt out of place, voicing a silent opinion when stared down, "Oh, all right!"
That night it had become official, Ethan and Alek `boyfriends', Wyatt taking things a step further, with intentions of all out sex, asking, "You and Ethan, um, you're not like in a serious relationship, are you?"
Alek knew', if he answered negatively, Wyatt would been all over Ethan. Ethan, he wouldn't realize it until too late, Wyatt a fast mover. After all, those days and night he spent with his cousin, weren't all watching stuff on the computer screen, but Wyatt handing out handy tips on how to', or `what for?'
Alek, knowing he be able to fend Wyatt off, left things middle of the road, "It's complicated."
"Oh," Wyatt said, hands still on the elastic of his briefs, stooped down holding them at bay, ankle height. "Well, then," he pulls them up, scooping up his ginger-haired balls and long softy. "Maybe I should come back."
Ethan had to admit, after Wyatt scoops up the rest of his clothes and leaves, "Tell me. What was that all about?"
"I thought he was going to tell us about his career move," Alek thought.
"We don't really need Wyatt to find out?" Ethan picks up his cell phone.
Alek grabs it before Ethan can access a number, "Do you really think we should go behind Wy's back?"
Mischief on his mind, Ethan replies, "Hmm, now there's a thought!"
Alek, tossing the cell on the bed, says, "Hurry up and run after him. I think you have a good chance of catching up with him?"
Walking over to him, Ethan untangles Alek's arms, hands untucked from pits, "But you're so much closer to catch up with!"
Kissing made it all right with the two. In a little while they wouldn't even remember Wyatt being there.
%
The last thing Johnny remembered, about being straight or gay, was Ritchie telling him it was `complicated'.
A year older, 19, Ritchie didn't know for certain if he liked boys, but as Johnny has already found out, "Well, if you don't like dating girls, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what you like, Ritchie?"
"I know," Ritchie bites a lip, then reveals, "but if other people know, it won't be good for me."
"Like who?" Johnny asks, measuring out some flour by hand and not cup.
Counting on his fingers, Ritchie covers just about everyone in his world, "My mom, dad, aunts, uncles, cousins, friends, everywhere I shop and..."
"Sounds like that covers it," Johnny adds a handful of this, pinch of that.
"Yeah. So, you see what I'm up against?"
Johnny could have been many different people, a variety of professions, though not formally trained, went on his own experience, "I do, but do you want to go through the next 40 or 50 years thinking what someone else thinks of you, risking your own happiness?"
Smirking, Ritchie confesses, "That's why I took this job. To get away from home, from all that and maybe...make some discoveries."
"Okay, so you're not around those people, so be yourself. What's so bad about that?"
There wasn't anything wrong with it, Ritchie seeing it Johnny's way, but the way he looks at it, "What happens if word gets back to my house, my friends, my church?"
Stopping the mixing right now, Johnny says, "You didn't mention `your church' before?"
It's then that Ritchie tells all, well all that really matters, "My dad, he's the pastor of the church. He can't afford to have a gay son."
"And how were you going to explain to your folks, bringing home a boy, instead of a girl?"
"Uh," Ritchie's mouth twitched, buying time, "I didn't think of that."
Not meaning to change the subject, Johnny changes the subject, "Oh, so it's not really about everyone else, but you're afraid your father might get fired, or...I hear churches have camps that try to brainwash guys into thinking they're not gay?"
"I don't know about that. I never heard anyone mention that, but I know a guy, who is older than me and gay, he went off to college and his parents are under the delusion the college made him gay, because he was straight when he left home."
The two hadn't realized they being eavesdropped on, Jimi walking in on them, "That's the biggest bullshit story I've ever heard!"
"Which part?" Ritchie asks, all serious-like.
"In case you missed the history lesson," the 25-year old spits out, "a person is born gay."
"I know," Ritchie says, analyzing the situation, "but when people don't know what else to do or to protect themselves, they make up excuses."
Jimi had come in on the part about the college making the dude gay, but not about Ritchie still being in the complicated closet, walks over to him, puts a `buddy' arm around him, "So, what's your story, stud?"
"Stud? You think so?" Ritchie replies, red in the face.
Johnny could not dismiss his thoughts. Several months older than when he packed it in and left home, and by way of Deric, much more wiser, "Yeah, you are hot Ritchie!"
Picking up an apple, shining it up on his bicep, Jimi says, "In my opinion, I think you're both hot!" he chomps and waits for the fall out.
"He thinks we're hot," Johnny giggles.
Then, Ritchie wises up, "I was thinking it too, but wasn't sure I should say so," he smiles.
Realizing something here, Jimi says, "Wow, two of a kind. Not sure my heart can take it!"
"I've heard of stuff like that happening," Johnny conjures up his own interpretation, based on what he thinks Jimi is saying.
"What stuff?" Ritchie knows he's missing something here.
In the dark himself over this, Jimi asks, "Yeah, what stuff Johnny?"
Not sure how it's put, Johnny says, "Me and Ritchie," he gulps, not sure he should suggest, "and you?"
He was only hanging over Ritchie's shoulder, but from the gesture, it is the only thing which got Jimi to thinking, "Oh, but you don't mean?"
Jaw dropping open, Ritchie kinda gets an idea, "You mean, Jimi, me and you?"
Ritchie didn't know what the two were thinking, but now Jimi makes it kind of crystal clear, "I don't mind, if you guys don't?"
"What's he talking about?" Ritchie is afraid to say anything more about what he assumes is going on here.
Sketchy himself on it, Johnny asks, "You wanna explain it, Jimi?"
Left as the scapegoat, Jimi hadn't realized it had come to this, "Uh, an open relationship?"
The reason Jimi had come to such a conclusion, was meeting up with Johnny earlier, only to have Glenn come into their lives, complicating matters. Now, without Glenn's face among the conversation, "I think I better go think this out."
Still, after Jimi leaves, Johnny and Ritchie don't exactly know what has transpired.
"Was Jimi thinking of dating you and me both?"
Johnny says, "I think he was thinking more than dating, if you know what I mean?"
"Hmm, Jimi did mention relationship?" Ritchie knew the score, but wasn't sure of how this progressed so rapidly, having the opinion, "I always thought of having a boyfriend, but not two at once."
Forming dough, Johnny kneads, saying, "Me neither. I think I'd like to build something with one guy and then..." but thinking on it, "I'm not sure, if I had a guy I really liked, if I felt like it would be cheating on him."
Not committing himself, Ritchie says, "It's a lot to think about, but right now, I think you're scone smells really nice. How did you learn how to make one?"
There was only one...one big scone, Johnny saying, "From my mom. She was a good cook. The strange thing is, when she found out I was gay, she said she couldn't believe all that she did for me, teaching me about cooking, sewing and kinds of stuff, that I had to be gay. Make sense to you?"
"I think Jimi made a lot of sense when he said we are born gay. Things people think we are and that we can change, can't happen. More people need to be accepting. But if they can't then there has to be a change, like why I took this job away from home."
Johnny sulked, but not sinking into depression, rather jovially declares, "I wish I met you before I met Jimi!"
%
Call it fate, when Jimi left the boys in the kitchen, heading out, along the side of the pool, he heard his name being called...
"Hey, Jimi, wait up. Got something to tell ya!"
All he could do is stand there, frozen in place, watching Glenn running towards him. He was almost knocked off his feet, caught up in a bucket of arms, Jimi acting like a brake pedal for the football-block, "Thanks...I think!"
Between the two, there had to be some kind of lightning passing through their souls, Jimi feeling it.
Glenn, probably didn't notice, bubbling over in joy!
News to him, Jimi says, "Just what is it you're being overly grateful to me for?"
Backing off slightly, Glenn says, "I thought all of you CK high-up guys share the same secret?"
One eyebrow cocked, Glenn could see, without a mention from Jimi, he hadn't a clue.
"Um, we're like, not all tuned onto the same frequency all the time?" Jimi explains.
"Well," Glenn sits, in a single chair, pulling Jimi down, which meant the only landing pad was his lap, "then let me be the first to tell you, your construction company, well, CK's hired me as a geologist!"
"Wait a minute," Jimi says, not doubting Glenn's intentions, "to my knowledge, there's like `no' construction company. Cayman, he's more all about modeling and..."
"You don't believe me," Glenn's joy fizzled faster than flat beer.
"No. I mean, `yeah,' I believe you," he scrambled for a way out of this, Jimi saying, "Like I said, we're not always on the same page?" he lifts Glenn's chin up.
"Oh," Glenn replies solemnly.
Bent on making Glenn his former joyous self, Jimi says, "You have your phone on you? Maybe we can make this right."
Little did Jimi know, dialing up Chico, he was calling at a very inconvenient time. However, if Ethan had a timetable to work with, Jimi did likewise.
%
For the volleyball players, the setting of the sun had put a damper on the game, going back to their cottages. Between tearing apart a barn and bumping sweaty bods up against each other, vying for a ball, they felt the need to call it a night.
%
Chico, eyes set on getting back on the ole homefront in the East Hamptons, only to have an upheaval in plans, he settled in to his temporary housing.
Walking across the floor, after having helped Chico dry himself off, Eric rubs hands together, "Ah, now, so many places to lick, so little time..."
Time was about to get shorter, torn between the sound of some jingle and Eric', "Should I get that?" He didn't really want to disturb the impending moment, yet when duty called, duty called', "I better get it!"
At first, Eric was highly disappointed, but watching Chico jump out of bed, hefty cock and balls set a-swingin', then eyes keenly watching Chico walk around the room, talking on his cell, a few times the unused hand fluffing things up a bit, it was all horny!
Tabbing his phone off, Eric wasn't all that curious, wanting to get down to business, but bothers to ask, "What was that about?"
"Just business," Chico replies, waiting by the side of the bed.
It had been part of the way he wanted things to go, lying there in bed, Eric all over him, which is why he now stood there and waited.
"Oh!" Eric withdraws hands from behind his head, "You want to..." he vacates the mattress.
"Thank you very much!"
Before and during their shower, they had talked over what each other liked and didn't like.
For Chico, any part of his bod which tongue or lips could touch, it was all good. Though, he could be finicky about pits licked down to his pecs, much more attention given to each nip. Of course, nothing could surpass having a mouth go down on the 29-year old's 8-inch spike. Some guys could be just as picky, liking it or disliking, when Chico forced a dude to take it deeper. Even though a dude would choke, Chico added a sadistic laugh.
However, Chico was not a sadistic guy, but could get into dishing out what a man liked. In the shower, Eric sweetly soaping him up, it felt like a build up, soap suds making nips hard as rocks.
Sure enough, Eric hit him with certain kinky stuff which got his balls revved up. He had a couple of laughs himself, Chico making all kinds of contorted features, Eric mentioning stuff like, liking to swallow a man's load of piss, or feeling his cock wanting to shoot, a result of having his balls slapped around.
Eric, he went right to it, after the shower, not caring about the details, only of himself and Chico. Not wasting time, he was right at Chico's left pit. Bathing one, Eric could really play a guy, switching to the other armpit, dragging cock and balls over Chico's bod.
"You did that on purpose, didn't you?" Chico questions the slick move.
"Did what?" Eric replies, going back to the hairy pit.
Knowing Eric swiped over his bod on purpose, but knowing he wasn't about to get a confession, feeling Eric's saliva trail about to lap at his hairy pecs, some things were not really that important!
%
Meanwhile, back at the Plaza, Johnny had just pulled the first batch of handmade scones out of the oven.
Rubbing hands together, Ritchie takes in a deep whiff, "Mm-mm, they smell so good. I can't wait to try one!"
Time and time again, whether it had been Deric or one of the guys, the age old saying reverberated through Johnny's mind, wanting something and going after it, Ritchie part of Johnny's plot, "Go for it, but I have to caution you, they're pretty hot!"
Ritchie was thinking, `you're pretty hot,' but didn't want to be forward. Perhaps after he got to know Johnny, he could spring something like that on him.
Blowing on the scone till cool enough, Johnny used it as a metaphor, perhaps wanting Ritchie to do some `blowing' action between his legs. Then Johnny dashed the thoughts away, thinking what was the matter with himself!
"Mm-mm," Ritchie swallows, "these are so yummy-good!"
There's many ways a guy could be thankful, Johnny choosing, "How about thanking me with a kiss?"
"Really?" Ritchie was surprised, after taking a sip of milk to wash it down.
"Unless you know of a better way?" which is a phrase Johnny heard Deric tell a guy, saving for a special moment.
"I do, actually, but this might be a good start?"
Johnny didn't mind at all, more concerned with Ritchie's puckered lips.
After that first, smiley kiss, the two parting, Ritchie alerts him to the white mustache, "Oops! Sorry `bout that," he picks up his apron and wipes Johnny's stache away.
It would've been nice, things progressing to the next level, but Ritchie was too nervous.
Most likely, it had been the case with Johnny too, answering a simple, "No problem. Want another?"
Confused, Ritchie had thought a kiss...
"Another scone, I mean?" Johnny had thought he thought was right on.
"Oh yeah," Ritchie replies, picking up another scone, "that's what I thought you meant!"
All was not quiet in the dining hall. Part of Ritchie's routine, he broke away from the scones long enough, Johnny helping him to pick up any residue from dinner.
Then the room became quiet, but for only a short duration. Those whom had projects to complete, used it for a `plug-in' office.
First arriving was Jimi & Ethan, to confer on loose ends of the day's activity. One of the things on the table, those who were able to do heavy, construction-related tasks.
First they tackled those who did not fit the `he-man' positions, Jimi saying, "I want you to go on this with an open mind, Eeth," Ethan was learning to live with.
"I can do that. Let's hear what you've got."
"It would be better if I went with the `cut' list," Jimi types a few things into his laptop, "which are, those not fitted for rugged work, Pete..."
Only getting out the first cut on his list, Jimi welcomes a familiar face, "Oh, high there, um..."
Ethan wasn't sure either...
"James. I work for Stephen Braddock?" he sits down on the bench, other side of the long table, "Mind if I join you?"
They couldn't say no, James already taking his laptop out of the shoulder bag.
Though, whether Jimi had the say or not, Ethan smiles, says, "We don't mind," he moves his laptop to make room.
"No play until the work is done," James smiles.
Jimi rolls his eyes, Ethan saying, "Good incentive, eh?"
They were both cute, in James' eyes, thinking he'd `do them both', but since Ethan had taken the first step, "That I agree on!"
For the moment, James play it cool, eavesdropping in between typing. He couldn't concentrate too much, so made like he was typing!
"First very big problem we have, Eeth," Jimi explains, changing topic in order to explain, "Ernesto came to me this afternoon with the grim news, of something which he had thought was going on between his partner and Chef `Blowhard', he's gone on to follow his former lover. So, the gist of the matter is, we're down one excellent chef and need to get one by, at the latest..."
It pays to eavesdrop, James butting into their business, "I know just the man."
From looking at each other, to over the tops of their computers, Jimi says, "You do?"
Following, Ethan says, "You do, do you?"
"This guy I met up at the linedancing bar, up the road, Adrian. He used to be a chef at a fancy restaurant in Atlanta."
"If that's the case," Jimi tread lightly, "then why is he shucking his clothes to pick up big tips, up at the country and western joint?"
Having all the answers, James says, "Every man has his run of bad luck from time to time. Adrian has had his, but he's over that and all he's doing is looking for another chance. I say we be that chance!"
"We?" Jimi questions, on CK's behalf.
"Yeah, I'm kind of hot on the guy, so we would all have a stake in this. Besides, Mr. Braddock considers me his right hand. If Adrian doesn't work out, it's not all going to fall on his shoulders. But trust me, Adrian will do a good job."
Like a match made in heaven, that first night James met Adrian, they knew they were made for each other.
The linedancing place up the road, at night turned into a place where guys with `special needs' could congregate. It's James, who sweet-talked the bartender into allowing him to venture downstairs, a place where strangers would never have a clue to the special activities..
There, James found men, segregated according to interest. He thought it cute, actual `jails' used as holding pens. He kind of felt bad for the older cub, being picked over by dudes searching for young college guys. He also recognized him, "Hey, linedancer, get your fat ass over here!"
Looking around, Adrian puts a hand to his chest, "You mean, me?"
He kind of stuck out too. Adrian, 29-year old, wasn't as trim and slick as the muscleheads in their early twenties.
"I don't see any other cubs in there!"
Adrian licked his lips, walking towards the cell door, which was always left open, questioning, "Are you sure?"
Knowing what the basement was used for and being James could get into almost anything which kept his cock hard and balls churning, "You questioning me, boy?"
A little smile on his face, Adrian says, "No, sir."
Hanging on the authentic looking jail cell, James unhooks a collar and leash, says, "Put this on."
"Yes, sir," Adrian replies.
In the right frame of mind, James could get into anything, but that night, he only wanted sex, "I hope you're a fuckin' good cocksucker?"
"The best, sir."
Whereas James was suited up in a Nouguet brief, which he got free from working at Braddock's, Adrian was decked out in nothing, dress code for those wanting to be used and abused by a master.
Finding an empty berth, for those only into having sex, he fell into it, reaching out to grope Adrian.
Adrian, he was quite taken aback, thinking the noose around his neck would be the apparatus used to yank him about, not his cock-handle!
Lying there, both were secluded behind a heavy drape. Some thought it kind of erotic, to have guys `look in on them'.
"Take my briefs off...with your teeth, boy!"
Having been ordered to do this quite a few times, Adrian had found a way, which would cut through the time to strip off a man's underwear, using teeth, but doing some hiking with fingertips.
However, it didn't fool James, propped up on his elbows, "Do you dare try to fool me, boy?"
"Huh?" Adrian looks up with his baby-face eyes.
It wasn't entirely pity which had James pulling Adrian out of the cell, but the handsome face, with stache and beard carvings and the almost recruit-regulation haircut, so James could not be too mean, "Just get the briefs off and get your mouth on me, boy!"
He was kind of amazed, after Adrian slipped his briefs down the legs, over the feet, sitting there on hind legs, carefully folding them up.
James, he couldn't help but reward, "Good, boy."
"Thank you, sir," Adrian lays the briefs on the side of the mattress, "uh, where do you want me to start, sir?"
Where James always like his bottom-boy to start, "See that patch of hair, midchest, boy?"
Adrian's answer didn't come as a vocal rebound, but instead, dragging his cock up, in between James legs.
All through their love-making that night, which lasted a good hour, until James was so satiated, he had to fuck, they were visited by many guys, standing there, cocks in hand and adding their own vocal interpretations of how the action was going. Towards the end, James heard `his fans' tell him to fuck harder. They didn't need to, James already bangin' Adrian to the hilt!
Of course, he didn't relay all this information to Jimi and Ethan, nothing which happened once he had set foot in the basement, but rather the sequence of events afterwards.
"Yup, I had a long talk with Adrian learning all there was to know about the man."
With other bits of information, Jimi acted reluctant, "So you say his alcoholism and drug use is behind him?"
"I'd bet Mr. Braddock's reputation on it."
"Precisely," Jimi sat there, arms across the chest, "same thing I was thinking!"
Ethan, he wasn't sure what was going down between the two, "So, are you hiring him?"
"Nope!" Jimi says. "You are!"
"Me?" Ethan replies, thinking he was hired for construction.
"Yup. I'll show you where to find an application online and...congratulations," he holds out a hand, "you're Cayman's new secretary `in the field.'"
"In the field? Like, what's that supposed to mean?"
James knew what it meant, "Like me and Stephen Braddock. When he snaps an order, you're there to carry it out, whether you like it or not. Takes a special man," James looks at Jimi, "ain't that right?"
"You got that right," Jimi replies, anxious to stop with the paperwork and get out, one with nature, "it's hammer-time!"
"So," Ethan wants to get his first assignment right, "we're hiring Adrian?"
"On Braddock's man's word," Jimi replies as he gets up, "I'd bank on it."
In James' eyes, Ethan was a hot man, which set the balls churning coupled with some other things drummed up in his mind, "Gimme a second, I can have Adrian come over for an interview?"
Making his job easier, Ethan says, "Sure. That would be great, if he isn't in jail?"
Already known to himself, owning' the linedancer, James says, "I think he has a get out of jail free' pass," he tabs Adrian's preset on his cell.
Meanwhile, Johnny had gotten his kiss, right around Ritchie's fourth scone. One thing had led to another and with reckless abandonment, not caring about if they were walked in on, Johnny lay stripped, back lying on the table used to roll out the scones. On top of him, Ritchie was licking a mixture of sweat and flour.
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Copyright 2015 T. Chase McPhee
`ALeK iN wONdeRfULaNd', and developing segments of this story, may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.