TRI, TRIO, TRES M/M/M
Part 7 of 7
By Bearkattz@aol.com
WARNINGS: This story depicts loving, consensual sex adult males of legal age. If you are offended by such or if reading such material is illegal under the local laws, or if you are under the age of 18 or under the age of consent in your area, please stop reading now.
Comments, critical or complimentary, welcome at Bearkattz@aol.com
Dear Mr. Barton,
You're application to The Chef's School has been accepted and the first year's tuition has been deposited. Please report to the registration office on September 10 for your class schedule and tutorial. First class starts promptly on Monday, September 14. The following information should help you with any questions you may have and lists what items you will need to bring with you.
We, at The Chef's School, look forward to having you join us at one of the most prestigious cooking schools in the country."
The rest of the words blurred together as Kelly's eyes filled with tears. Ian! Max! They did this for him. Suddenly the bones in his body seemed to disappear as his body slumped to the floor and the tears fell unheeded as sobs racked his body.
Suddenly, he was lifted up in a strong grip and Max was shaking him by his arms, "Kelly! What's wrong? Baby, you ok?"
Ian looked at him with such concern that he broke down crying all over again. Ian reached out to stroke the silky hair off the hot forehead. "Sweetheart, what's wrong? You can tell us. Shhhh."
Max hooked a massive arm under his knees and carried Kelly over to the couch and set him down. The two men took up their positions on either side of him and Ian grabbed a Kleenex and wiped the various fluids that were trickling down his face.
At their renewed questioning, Kelly managed to hold the crumpled note from the school that was now a bit soggy as well. He waved it in front of Ian's face, still unable to speak except for the hiccups, sobs, snorts and gasps from his air deprived lungs.
Ian took the note, carefully spread it over his knee and managed to read the tear stained letter. He held it up for Max to read.
"Look, Kelly," Ian began, "I'm sorry. We're sorry. We thought you would have wanted to go to the school. We thought we were doing you a favor and wanted to surprise you. You don't have to go there."
Kelly looked up, his nose red and swollen and dripping, the blue eyes bloodshot and raw, his hair plastered against his sweating forehead. "I'm... I'm... I'm... crying... because...I'm...I'm...happy...and because...I...don't...deserve...you..guys." The words were choked out and punctuated with broken intakes of air.
"You're happy?" Max asked looking confused. He glanced to Ian and back to his less then happy looking lover. "You're happy." He stated firmly and nodded as if trying to convince himself and then shook his head over the lost cause. "You don't look happy. You're crying!"
Ian and Kelly exchanged amused rolling of eyes and then burst out laughing at Max's comical indignation. Max, relieved, gladly joined in the laughter, "NOW you look happy!"
After the laughter died down and tears dried, Ian and Max explained how they talked about the situation and felt they could come up with the needed money for tuition. It was a 21 month course and felt they could handle it. When Kelly protested that he would get a part time job, Ian winced. He went to the desk where they kept the bills and checks and pulled out a syllabus for the school. He had obviously spent a lot of time researching the school. Not to make sure the school was worth it but to make sure the school was worthy of Kelly.
Kelly looked like he would cry again and Max hurriedly grabbed another Kleenex and begged Ian not to make him "happy" again. They all laughed once more and Ian began to explain how intense the course actually was. The school was endorsed by The American Culinary Institute which was high praise indeed. The school was full time for six months of just learning the basics from How To Handle a Knife and Basic Nutrition to How to Saute, Braise, Bake and Broil. From six months to a year, it was actual cooking and from one year till graduation you cooked, baked, and simmered on campus as well as doing an internship at a restaurant. After 21 months, if you still desired to be a chef and survived the grueling hours, you could expect dozens of job offers all over the country. A degree from this school guaranteed that. But the hard work would just begin. A chef at a restaurant with any kind of reputation would put in long, hard hours beginning early in the morning and rarely ending till late in the evening. The money was good, the facilities were usually stupendous and the work was backbreaking. Ian looked up from the book and saw both Kelly and Max staring at him as if he'd just sprouted horns.
"You don't sound like you want Kelly to be a chef," Max mused.
Ian took Kelly's warm hand in his and kissed the palm. "Baby, I want you to do whatever you want. I just need you to know what you're getting in to. I asked around and I feel like I got a couple of well rounded opinions on being a chef. And," he kissed the pale forehead, "who says you have to a be a chef in a restaurant, eh? You could be our very own Chef Kelly."
Kelly looked down at the hand holding his so tightly and swallowed, smiled and just shook his head. "I don't really deserve you two, y'know?"
"What do you want to do, baby?"
"I want this so bad, I can taste it."
"Then it's settled."
And it was. For the next year, the three men hardly saw each other except to sleep in the same bed. The two older men worked hard to keep Kelly in tuition, books, cooking pots, pans and utensils. And Kelly tried to help by taking odd catering jobs through the school. While the cleaning and laundry took a severe nose dive, the men were never short of five star cooking and the results of it. They actually had men at work pay them for the food that Kelly brought home or cooked for "homework."
Several times Kelly would wake up and find Ian or Max fucking him gently or rubbing themselves off on him. Holidays were no vacation for Kelly. He was always busier than ever because of the extra load of people at restaurants and the school was always overwhelmed with requests for help.
He came home early on one such occasion because the head chef ended up taking pity on the small, weary young man. He knew Kelly had the makings of a good chef and worked twice as hard as any other intern he'd had. "Go home, Kelly, before you slice a finger off. Get some rest before you have to take your exams or you'll never pass them." Kelly was too tired to argue over the loss of income and turned to grab his backpack. It wasn't until he was on his way home, he found a check for the full amount in his pocket.
Max and Ian were watching football as were half the country on this particular holiday but leapt up in delight when Kelly walked in. However, the odor of fresh fish permeated his every fiber so that Max refused to even kiss him and just pointed to the shower. Kelly grinned and knew Max would make it up to him.
When he came out, the tv was off, the room was lit only by several candles flickering in the light breeze that stirred through the open windows. Soft music came from the CD player and a couple of bottles of red wine (Kelly had finally taught them that wine was a perfectly acceptable beverage) were uncorked to breath and sat patiently waiting on the coffee table and his two lovers were sitting comfortably on the couch.
"C'mere, baby." Ian held out his arms and Kelly moved quickly to them. They quickly disrobed him and lay him gently on the couch between them. Max poured the wine and handed him a glass and Ian grabbed the oil that was wrapped in a warm towel. He poured a bit of the warm oil in his palm and sniffed appreciatively as the scent of almonds drifted up. As Max did the same, Ian began to massage the shoulders that were perched in his lap and soon Max did the same for the sore feet that rested on his thighs.
Kelly felt like he was drifting on clouds. The wine and the gentle massage sent him into such a relaxed state he almost felt like it was a dream. The two men spent almost forty five minutes lavishly loving him with their light kisses and soothing caresses. His body felt boneless, weightless and very cherished.
"Fuck me, " he whispered. The first words that had been spoken since he joined them on the couch.
"It's okay, baby. This is for you. We're okay," Ian murmured back not wanting to break the almost magical atmosphere that permeated the small room.
"This is for me. Please love me."
Ian picked Kelly up and they headed for the bedroom. Max hurriedly prepared the bed, and lit more candles and refilled the wine glasses. They undressed in silence and Kelly watched them with a fascination that rekindled memories of his days on drugs. But it wasn't drugs this time that was causing his euphoria. He was high on love. He was drunk with passion. He was in a state that no drugs could ever match. He was so aware of every sensation that he even felt the subtle wisps of air that brushed over his naked body caused by the movements of his lovers.
The bed dipped as first Max climbed into bed and then Ian. The gentle loving touches continued this time without the oil. Light kisses began at his forehead and continued down his chest and sucked at his nipples. He felt his legs pushed open and a tongue began to lick and stroke at his center. A nose at his armpit nudged his arm up and out to the side. He felt so open, so vulnerable. A finger began to stroke at his opening and the scent of almonds was strong once again. Kelly wanted to tell them that he couldn't get more relaxed unless he were dead but it seemed that words would spoil the specialness of this moment and he was silent. The man who probed him seemed to realize this however, and the finger was quickly replaced with a hard cock that entered him with ease. Hands, fingers, tongues and lips seemed to be everywhere on his body. If he had the strength to open his eyes, he knew he'd find two Max's and two Ian's because there just seemed to be no part inside or outside of his body that was not being loved on or kissed or sucked or fucked.
He knew it was Max that was fucking him because he heard the quiet moans and grunts that Max could never help uttering in the throes of sex. His own cock was flaccid and not at all interested in participating but Ian's mouth continued to suck and lick it occasionally as if not wanting to exclude it in the activities. But Kelly was happy with the way things were. This had nothing to do with sex. This was loving.
Ian's fingers were stroking and twisting the erect nipples while his mouth would venture up to suck on Kelly's lips and ears. He felt as if Max was pumping in and out of his ass forever and his hole tingled with the friction. He could feel Max's seed flooding his body as he came inside him. Kelly felt the softening cock withdrawing and almost cried out in protest but a dip in the bed indicated the two men had changed positions. Soon the still open hole was filled once again and Kelly sighed in contented fulfillment. The tender fucking and loving continued all night. The men would doze before waking up and resume their loving endeavors once again. Ian fell asleep with his cock still embedded in Kelly's ass and Kelly thought it was the most marvelous sensation to feel the cock grow hard in him once again. The dawning sky brought an end to the magical, wonderful night that let the three men dig in for another year of stress and hard work. But they were together and happy.
Kelly began to turn down offers to work in restaurants to work more and more with the catering company through the school. A position usually considered not as high class as working in a famous restaurant. The experience was invaluable. He even managed to get Max and Ian involved in hauling the equipment to the various locations and help setting up. While they grumbled about being used as pack horses, both men were secretly pleased to watch Kelly in action. While he was not solely responsible for the affair - Chef Martine was - the experienced chef began to rely heavily on his enthusiastic helper. He would leave all the preparatory work to Kelly and his help. Max and Ian would see an empty hotel or banquet room turn into a stunning creation as elegant place settings, silver, and fresh flowers were spotlighted with the intricate placing of lights and candles. Then Kelly would adjourn into the kitchen to help Chef Martine actually cook. They would leave when the smells of cooking drifted out and knew they wouldn't see Kelly for the next 6 hours.
Kelly was 16 months into the program and already the job offers were beginning to pour in from all over the United States and Canada and even one from Mexico.
Instead of seeing the delight they expected on their lover's face when the job offers appeared, Kelly began to grow more and more quiet. Max and Ian talked about it and then decided to approach Kelly. They decided the time was right and waited for Kelly to show up exhausted at 1:00 in the morning.
"Hi, guys. What are you doing up? Don't you have to work tomorrow?" Kelly asked as began to wearily undress.
Ian patted the couch, "Come here a minute, would you, babe?"
Kelly frowned but sat down. "What's up?"
"Nothing with us. But we wanted to check up on you."
"I'm okay. Tired, as usual, but ok." Kelly glanced from Ian to Max.
"Well, we noticed that you don't seem very happy with the job offers you've been getting and we just wanted you to know, that you take the best one, the one you really want, and we'll move wherever you decide. Together." Ian took Kelly's hand in his. "We want you to be happy and our kind of jobs you can find anywhere, sweetheart."
Kelly sighed. He had hoped they hadn't noticed his lack of enthusiasm for the offers. "I...I...really appreciate that, guys. To be honest with you, I hadn't even thought of that." At their confused looks, he hurriedly went on, "I mean, your offer means so much to me and I wouldn't even think of taking a position where you wouldn't want to go, it's just...," the voice trailed off.
"Just what, honey?" Ian encouraged him to continue.
"I don't think being a chef in a restaurant is for me." Kelly's eyes were closed as the words were quickly forced out .
End Part Six Comments, critical or complimentary, welcome at Bearkattz@aol.com