Date: Tue, 1 Mar 2016 14:34:42 +0000 From: TCHASE MCPHEE Subject: ?JoLLy RaNCHeRs? 02 (gay - rural - intergenerational relationships) % This work of fiction is 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 habitats, governmental or non-governmental areas, farmhouses, nor barns. % If sexual scenes involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then why are you here? Seriously, if dude-to-dude sex stuff makes you wanna barf or is gonna screw up your mind, you should not read this story. % States and countries have various rules regarding reading or viewing `adult material'. It is up to you, the reader, to research this subject, abiding by their own laws and conscience. The pages of this story contain `adult material', intended for an `adult audience.' Bypass this warning at your own risk! % Sexual safety matters. Guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection and I don't mean going out and hiring a security guard...unless he gives your nuts and bolt a jolt. Hey dudes, if you have enjoyed reading NiFTy stories as much as I have over the years, consider adding some $upport for `internet $pace' or else I will have to start cutting handsome, hairy or steamy characters out of my stories. Do you dare imagine a story without any tops? http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html Nifty Stories Archive Donation donate.nifty.org Donation information for the Nifty Stories Archive % "JoLLy RaNCHeRs" 02 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee ^ 0 ^ % The thing here, Rusty was trusting of Evan after all. What he was finding out right this minute, how conflicting it can be, wanting to dive into sex, when he should be engaged in his duties. Sitting at the edge of the pool, feet in the water, Evan says, "Just think. Right now we could be getting jiggy with some line-dancin'!" "Jiggy?" Rusty questions, looking down from his lifeguarding perch. "Yeah, heard one of them city slickers say it." Looking to the sky for translation, Evan studies it in his mind, "I think it's Irish for dancin' around." "Grandpa was good at doing a jig. I suppose the act of jigging is getting jiggy?" Jig, jigging, jiggy, what mattered to Evan, was buying beers at Karl's cafe and if a customer liked how he looked, he would be offered a drink, with strings attached. Not knowing how Evan got head, not the foamy beer kind, Rusty says, "You can go on without me. I still have to sit here for another hour. Trust me, my father would not like it, coming back from wherever it is he is, and finding someone swimming in the pool and my butt not on this chair. That's all I need, have him on my case again." "Yeah, I noticed. You and your old man, you don't get along." "It's complicated." Seeing Rusty shift his butt around. Rather than dwell on what was, shifts to what is, "Bro, you've got to stop wearing those baggy swim shorts and get with something more `revealing'." A little wise, Rusty pulls at the leg openings, "This, isn't revealing enough for you?" Still with feet in the water, Evan looks over his shoulder, "Could be," his eyes travel up Rusty's legs, "except for that tacky white net?" `White net?' Rusty thinks. "Oh yeah," he slacks off on showing what he thought was visible, up his trunks, "I forgot about that." "If you want to bait the hook, dude, you've got to use the right bait!" Rusty did think it was more than `nice', Evan wearing the tight, Lycra-like swimming apparel. No mistaking it, the pouch up front would reel any man in. Knowing what Evan's `bait' was like, "estimating, how many fish do you catch a day?" He laughed, which made Evan not do the same, but smirk, "You're learning quick, dude." "Happens when a guy's got a good teacher!" "Yeah, well, I still say you're wasting your time, when we could be in town, gettin' jiggy and I don't mean linin' up with some city slickers!" Evan hinged on his words, thinking how some of those city slickers looked kind of hot, like the son who came along, just to please the folks. Then again, Evan wasn't into `children'! Though, when all else fails, there's always Al! Good thing Rusty hung around, a guy, decked out in drab clothing, baseball cap, suitcase in his hand, appears out of nowhere. Not hearing the rattling of the gate, "Can I help you?" Evan was sad, wishing he had noticed first! "Maybe. One of you guys Russell Cleg?" "That's me," Rusty replies, hopping off his lifeguard perch. Rusty, either modest or not really caring what people thought of his looks, he paraded right over to where the stranger stood. Evan did take in the stand-up view, a fine muscle dude on his own personal catwalk. He decides those old-fashioned swim trunks do hold some merit, depending on `size'! He didn't feel weird at all, the dude in street clothes, as opposed to how some guys showed up at the pool, ready to dive in, Rusty asking, "Are you here to swim?" "Not today. I'm here for you." Rusty was given this speech before, almost the same wording, when someone other than his father came up to him, like with the grim news of his mother passing away. "Me?" By this time, Evan was on his feet, over at Rusty's side, getting a closer view. "By the way, the name's Steb...Steb Zendirici." Before Rusty could get a grip on things, Evan nuzzles himself in ahead of his friend's extended hand, "Welcome to Cleg Ranch Resort, Steb..." far ahead of thought, "if there's anything I can do you for, just let me know!" He had hoped to pick up some vibes, but there wasn't any. Dropping his hand, Evan's immediate reaction was, `straight.' However, Steb was there for Rusty, "Is there a place we can talk, alone?" Steb, staring at Rusty, Evan knew he wasn't the object of attention, "Hey, maybe I will head over to Karl's club. Meet me there later?" Rusty says, "Sure. See you later, Evan." Evan, passing by, with little hope the dude could possibly be gay, says, "And you can come too!" Steb, he didn't say anything at first, but when Evan had vanished, "Friendly, isn't he?" Rusty felt a little embarrassed, Evan's flirt, making a mountain lion snarl, "You've got to forgive Evan. They don't let him out much," Rusty twirls a finger, pointed towards his ear, tossing it around in a circle. "That's what I thought," he smiles. Clearing his throat, Steb says, "the reason I'm here, is your father sent me to..." "Oh," Rusty gets instant bad vibes, "my father sent you. That explains a lot," he turns his back to Steb, walking off to his lifeguard chair. Steb stood there. Then, dropping his pack on the pavement, walks over, "I'm not your father and I'm not here to do his bidding." "So much for secrets," Rusty stares over the tall fence, at the trees, the mountains, beyond. "Secrets?" Steb says, the cub standing there in wonderment. Thinking about it, how horrible it would be if his father found out he were gay, suddenly rethinks it, "Okay, let me guess...my father wants you tag along all summer, so I don't go and do anything which would embarrass him?" >From town, Steb had missed the bus. He wasn't a stranger to walking, one of his favorite activities, so his bod didn't entirely go to hell. Not too much of an advocate of working out, he did take care of himself. That long walk though, in the heat, it did make him feel rank. When silence prevailed, Rusty took his eyes off the hills and sky. During his time of negative reflection, Rusty had missed Steb, taking his shirt off, shoes, half-dropping pants. Catching Steb stepping out of the remaining pant leg, "What are you doing?" Down to the cap and briefs, Steb asks, "You're in charge here. Do you think, if there was anyone around, they would mind it if I swam in my briefs?" `What a package,' Rusty thought. With little to hold so much, he could see the outline of Steb's balls, a deflated cock. No one was supposed to even be out by the pool, without proper attire. Though, wavering that rule, because it was only himself and Steb, "This one time won't hurt. Um?" he pointed towards his own head. "Oh. That," Steb removes his cap. With no place handy to put it, he tosses it to Rusty, "here, take care of that for me." With that, Steb dove into the pool. `No diving' was another rule Rusty was waiving. With expert swimming, he thought, `Wow, he's better than me!' >From one end of the pool to the other, Steb swam underwater. Something happened, which sent Rusty on the alert, standing on the foot placings of the lifeguard chair. It made him laugh, seeing Steb at one end of the pool, his briefs submerged and sinking, at the other end. Placing hands together at his mouth, he shouts, "I think you're missing something?!" With water up to his bellyhole, Steb stood, "I think so, too!" Then he dove, racing towards the object of distraction. Back to the shallow end, Steb stood, pecs at the water line. Buoyant, it wasn't tough to dig into the water, place the briefs under one foot. But trying to dress underwater, it wasn't working. Knowing this, Steb hesitates, walks to the baby steps and when he's ankle deep tries to do it again. "Wow," Rusty says of his plump ass! This time, Rusty didn't hold back on the reaction, not hidden, as back at the old homestead. In water or out of it, something as flimsy as a pair of briefs, they were tough to place back on. Though, Steb made it work. Then he heard Rusty laughing, right before he yells, "You got them on backwards, Steb!" "Dammit!" he hears Steb say, turning around, peeling them off. After seeing Steb `moon' him again, Rusty can only smile, then laugh, the wet briefs stuck around his thighs. He can judge the frustration, Steb giving in, pulling them back up, briefs still on backwards. Turning, Steb walking around the corner of the pool, Rusty finds `it' more revealing, without the pouch faced forward. More prominent in Steb's gait, it adds a little jiggle! Steb thought, sitting, it might be easier to... Rusty smiles, more than the humor of watching Steb struggle, he now had a bird's eye view of the wet, hairy pocket of pubes. "Oh, hell with it! That's the way they are going to stay...for now," he says, sitting down beside Rusty. Rather than say anything more about Steb's briefs, or the obvious contents, Rusty commends, "You're a very good swimmer." Rusty did take notice, water beads forming on the hairy pecs, wrinkly stomach. "Happens when a guy grows up in Malibu." Whether he realizes he's been snagged, casing Steb's fur, Rusty looks up, "Oh, so you're a surfer?" "No," Steb smiles, "but I painted them!" Leaving Rusty to guess, "You're an artist?" "I try to be, but thought I'd trade in my surfboard days for the clean air and country living." "Except for the smell of horse poop?" Rusty smiles. Steb places both arms up on the back of the lifeguard bench, "We can't get what we want all the time, can we?" He had thought about it, Rusty wanting to sit back, up straight, connect, his back to Steb's arm, but hesitates, "Which means?" Conversation stirred, it needed a little shaking up, Steb saying, "Being an artist, it's a long road to supporting oneself." Changing gears, "I have an older brother named Clay. He and your father met in college." "Really?" Rusty was more interested in Steb's pointy nips than his own father, or rather used it as a diversionary tactic. "Hey, don't it out on Clay, because you and your father don't get along!" Turning his head away from studying hair patterns, facing Steb, "Sorry. I never meant anything about your brother?" "That's okay. Clay's a loser anyway!" "But, you just told me..." "I know," Steb smiles. "I'm not here to take the place of your father." "That's good, because I think you're a nice person," Rusty says coldly, callous. "Cheap shot, considering he's not here to answer for himself." "Wait," Rusty says, "who's side are you on, anyway, Steb." "No one's side. Hearing it from Clay, I understand when your mom died, your father was going through some issues." "Yeah, well he's not the only one. He never was and never will...be like her," Rusty says, a little pouty. Again, turning his head, this time towards wavy water, "Can we talk about something else?" Instead of acknowledging Rusty's wishes, Steb says, "I'm 27-years old, six feet tall, trying to lose this gut," he pinches a clump of belly fat. Making amends quick, realizing he's a jerk, "You left out cock size." "I never tell. Better if a man finds out for himself. You'd be interested in that, would you?" Playing Steb's game, "Where are you from?" "Malibu." "Oh, right. I gotta start paying attention more," Rusty realizes they already went through that chapter of Steb's history. "My father is an ambassador. That's where I lived, some of the time." "Right, the surfer boy, who didn't surf!" The game continued, each posing a question which did not have anything to do with the one before, "Well, I don't have to ask you what you've been doing for the past 2 years?" "Dad told you?" Rusty's cheerful attitude took a dive. "No. Clay did. Did you know your dad and Clay were room mates in college, who didn't keep anything from each other?" "I don't know anything about my father and what he did in college." "Apparently, Clay does. He told me how, when your mother was alive, when your father drank, he wasn't a very nice person." "Did your brother tell you, after mom died, he couldn't stand to have me around, so sent me off to boarding school, so he could run around with women?" "Uh, the running around with women part I didn't hear about, but knew you were packed up and sent off to Massachusetts. How did that work out for you?" "The first month was kind of crappy, but unlike Smallville," Rusty meant the ranch and rural area it was situated, "I could freely share who I am and not worrying about bullies ganging up on me. The prof's were cool too with being gay. Even some of them were out and open about it. Around here, for your own sake, you keep being a fag, quiet. Not talking about around the ranch here, but in town." "Yeah, wouldn't it be nice," Steb reveals himself, "if our kind were accepted everywhere?" he stands. "You're gay?" Rusty question. "Like you didn't know?" "I didn't, really!" "Well," Steb stands with heels on one of the slats, flinging arms back and forth, like trying to dry off, "proves a point." "What's that?" Rusty asks, looking at the pouch, which didn't fit Steb's bumb. "Be careful what you wish for. Say, looks like there's not many customers this afternoon, or rather, evening. How about a race across the pool and back?" True, Rusty was hoping Steb was gay! "What does the winner get?" Walking around to step slowly in, Steb says, "I'll leave that to you!" "Well, I'm not going to suck your cock, if that's what you think?" "Hey," Steb stands there with hands on hips, "I meant something like, buying the next beer when we go into town!" "Oh," Rusty felt ashamed, "sorry `bout that." "So, you have enough money in your piggy bank to make good on our wager?" Rusty dove in the pool, swimming to the deep end and back, surfacing at Steb's feet. "Oh wow, too bad your cock wasn't up for a wager!" Sliding off the edge of the pool, Steb made a dive for the shallow end. Turning about, Rusty is right next to Steb, staring, not straight ahead, but down his front, which makes him say, "So, what exactly was the wager, if you were to lose, Steb?" "Go!" Steb dove in, leaving Rusty standing there! "Hey, that's not fair!" Halfway down the pool, Steb turns over onto his back, "I never said everything in life was fair!" They never did race. Instead, Rusty did a belly-flop and doggie paddled to where Steb was in the pool. More like herding horses into a corral, he sidetracked the 27-year old cub. Steb had no choice but to swim east, instead of south and losing his arm over arm gait, "What was that?" Smiling, Rusty says, "I could've beat you easy, so I was just keeping you from having to give me a blowjob, since you were obviously evading the consequences?" "Me? I'm not the one with the racing, teenage hormones?" It was like a slap in the face, though a friendly one, if there was such a thing. Watching Steb swim around him, he had to admit it to himself, Rusty wanting to more than caress that cub bod. Climbing out of the pool, almost behind Steb, he reaches for something in the water. It wasn't a fish, "Uh, you seemed to have lost it again, Steb?" "Oh!" he stands, dripping wet, cupping his all-togethers, "I thought I felt a breeze!" It being a warm June, they sat out on the bench, talking. Steb never did try putting his briefs on again. For awhile it was a distraction, till Rusty get enough peeks. "And since I had this wonderful opportunity to travel the world with my father, the position he was in, I also got into museums, places where the public is not allowed to go." Having heard some other stuff of Steb's history, Rusty asks, "So, you want to be an artist, but you didn't practice art for the past two years?" "I guess you can say, the inspiration dried up. Here, I had seen every major work of art, in several countries and you would think they would have been of influence on me," Steb ends with an exhale. Then, back to the alternating facts, "I play the violin. Sometimes I play bluegrass. Back at boarding school, the music professor said they only play classical music and I wasn't allowed to play bluegrass. He said he heard I was playing bluegrass in my room and told me if I didn't stop, he would take my violin away." "I hope you hit him over the head with it!" Steb muses. "Nah, just brought it up between his legs...man could he sing opera good!" "You didn't?" Steb acts serious, putting a hand on Rusty's arm. "I'm joking!" "I knew it." "You did not. You thought I was serious, Steb!" Playful, he grabs Rusty's hand and pulls him away, into the pool, both going in together. "Not agai-i-i-in!" Rusty surfaces, "Oh man, you got water in my nose," he speaks with a nasally tone. "Me?" Steb acts like an angel, "I just got you in the water. Where it went after that, is your business!" When he first met Steb, Rusty had already formed an opinion of men which he would like. He would have to be muscular, have plenty of hair on his chest and `down below', it didn't matter, as long as he could get it up! He was unsure whether he wanted to even be Steb's friend, based on the fact he was not muscular, but average, with a gut. Though, hair was a big attraction. Fanned over Steb's chest, dark stripe down the middle, curved over the stomach, in and out the navel, Steb had it all, including the playful parts. Sun going down, it provided the perfect scenario for getting serious. Both were startled, hearing a knock at the wooden gate, followed by a male voice shouting, "Hey, in there, is the pool still open?" "Who's that?" Steb asks. "I dunno. Your guess is as good as mine!" "Well, we can't leave him standing out there. Could be he's very cute!" "Is that all you care about?" Rusty accuses him of a one track mind. Sassily, Steb stabs back, "I didn't see you turning your head away when I was trying to step into my wet briefs?!" "I only got ten minutes left on the clock, to find out if he's cute!" "Ten minutes, is enough time to find out!" Not which Rusty was playing Steb's game, but too much said made him very curious. He hauls himself out of the water and with water-wet feet slapping the cement, walks over to the gate. Pulling it towards him, Rusty says, "Pool's still open for ten minutes." "Cool. The dude at the front desk said it might be." "Front desk?" Rusty questions, the dude sliding his tee shirt right over his chest, passing by. Thinking to himself, softly, "I didn't even know we had a front desk!" Turning just his head, he says, "Oh, I'm Luc." "Rusty," though he wasn't sure the clerk heard. Before he could make sure the safety gate was properly closed, the guy is over at the pool, squatting down, shaking Steb's hand, "That was fast," Rusty amuses himself. "Rusty, this is Luc. Luc, Rusty." On the way over, Rusty couldn't help but notice, the tightness of the guy's colorfully patterned board shorts, "Yeah, we met." Standing, Luc addresses Rusty, "Do I change out here or do you have a cabana?" He opens a drawstring bag, pulling out a yellow speedo. The two others look at each other, Steb first to have a grin on his face. Rusty, new what it meant, but his job came first, so he was quite serious, "We don't have a cabana. You're supposed to come to the pool in your swim trunks." It amused Luc, "Swim trunks, eh?" His eyes did shoot down the front of Rusty's wet bod. Steb, his head stay on top of the water, blowing bubbles, waiting, watching, much like a croc before the kill. It didn't take long for Rusty to think up, "Well, if you take the shirt off and swam in your shorts, it would be okay." "Cool," he said, taking his shirt off right there in front of Rusty! "Uh, where should I put my shirt?" Steb, audience to the whole charade, each seeming to make an effort of standing there, checking each other out. Rusty in what appears to be his first try at picking up a guy, giggles with nervousness, "You must go to the gym a lot?" Luc replies, "No less than you!" More daring, he moves the back of his knuckles up and down Rusty's taut stomach. Both stand there, Rusty saying, "You can toss your shirt on the bench." Rear view, of Luc walking towards the lifeguard bench, was no less spectacular than the muscular front view. Rusty glances to Steb who just continues the bubble-blowing exercise, but manages to wiggle his eyebrows! Turning around, Luc is about to say something, when another lad appears at the gate. This guy was tall and able to reach right over, fumble with the security latch and walk in, "I hope it's okay I did that?" he walks in. Unlike Luc, the lanky looking guy was prepared to swim, suit hugging the hips. Before Rusty could get the jump on it, Luc is walking over to him, "I just got here myself. I'm Luc." Rusty and Steb could tell the guy `liked' Luc soon as they met, "Hey. The name's Adam." Call it intuition, or unknown jealousy, Rusty was right behind Luc, "Hi. I'm Rusty, pool lifeguard and if you want to swim, pool closes in 15 minutes." "Fifteen?" Luc questions. "You were giving me 10!" Modestly, Rusty says, "I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt, Luc." Rusty turns, watching Luc walk away, muttering to himself, "Benefit of the doubt. Hmm, I'll have to think on that one." Adam asks, "Like, what was that all about?" Turning back, Rusty realizes, Adam's ribs almost in his face. As Steb did to him, "What're you, 6-foot, 5?" "6-foot 1!" "You want to swim?" "That's why I'm here." Rusty felt like a jerk, `of course...that's why he's here!' Something about a guy, as Rusty was slowly learning, whereas he had a cooler attitude towards Luc, with Adam he wasn't as frigid. Some questions didn't have an easy answer, "You can put your stuff here." Around his neck, Adam had a blue pair of blue goggles. When he bent over to pick up his keys, the goggles would swing. From Rusty's viewpoint, that was the only thing hanging. Tight to Adam's skin hung his pecs, not an ounce of fat. Other than scrunching up, there wasn't any visible tummy glut. "You do much swimming?" Then, unexpected, when Adam turns around, Rusty is hit with, "Probably not as much as you!" Adam Says, "I work at the front desk, in case you didn't know, to refresh himself in the pool." True to his recollection, Rusty didn't know Adam's face, but something else, "I didn't even know we had a front desk." Comes with being away, returning home. Steb interrupted the two, saying he was holding a relay race, of which himself not included. Right off, Adam was in. Rusty, he would've rather had sat and chatted, "Uh, me too, I guess." Luc, he reluctantly `forced himself', more wanting to hang with Steb, hear the rest of his art history and check out other stats. Almost into the second relay, an older guy in a suit shows up. First thing to come to mind, was Adam, telling Rusty he was sorry for not closing the gate, behind himself. Then they hear, in a brash voice, "Luc, out of the pool!" Luc Oiseau never knew exactly the job his father did at the oil corporation, nor what title he held. Long as it provided for a lavish lifestyle, it wasn't of concern. Not which he condoned the benefits of growing up rich, traveling, enjoying the latest fashion, never wondering where his next meal came from, or keys to the fire-red mustang convertible, handed to him on his eighteenth birthday. Right after the divorce, he and his father began drifting apart. Other than money, what else would he inherit from his father? His mother on the other hand, was his caretaker and when he came out to the family, was much more in acceptance than his father. Things got worse after his mom suddenly passed away. "Nope," he adamantly says, standing his ground, half in, half out of the water, "I'm staying put." Waves lapped at the crossing of arms almost under Luc's pecs. Unknown to the other three, Luc and his father had had this conversation already, two days ago, on their flight out to the Pacific Northwestern community. Even though the weather was perfect for the lear jet, it was a rocky ride in the passenger area. Luc doesn't remember how many times he got slapped with, `if your mother were alive', but enough of the thoughts of how sweet the family was before she was killed by a drunk driver. Now, it seemed like his father was drunk more of the time than sober. When he became tipsy, Luc sought out the sanctuary of his room, a better place than having to put up with an abusive parent. "Young man, if..." "I know, `if mom were alive,' but she's not. You didn't love her anyway, so I don't get why you keep bringing her up?" Luc did know. Reason the father did keep resurrecting the image of Luc's mother, she had much influence, where he lacked the courage to put his foot down. "Fine," it came to a boil, Luc's father stomping out, "have it your way, but you know the consequences!" When he was gone, Luc says, "Oh my god, I did it! I told him off!" "What did your father mean by, `consequences'?" Rusty asks. "I don't believe it! He's finally gone and cut me out of his life!" Informal resolve, Rusty didn't get an answer, thinking it would hit Luc soon enough. Putting some distance between Luc and himself, Steb felt this the time a guy needed a fatherly hug. From sitting on the side, he falls feet-first into the pool, breaking into a brisk swim. Rusty, seeing the same, gazing from Steb, back to Luc, then watching him swim underwater, "Maybe we should..." Surfacing, Adam is by his side. "Looks like Steb has everything in hand." "I dunno. We all just met him. C'mon." A distance away, Rusty travels the sub-surface, Adam slightly at the soles of his feet. Steb got there first, "You okay, Luc?" "I think," he replies. Rusty and Adam, just getting there, show the same concern. Luc shares, about the conversation on the plane, "It's my own fault. I got upset and told him I was eighteen, that I was old enough to be on my own. I probably should have waited." "Waited for what?" Rusty asks. "Till I turned 21. That's when I could have full access to my trust account, enough to last me for decades, if I played it smart. Also, there was enough to pay for college. Now..." The others still putting pieces of the puzzle together, Steb was right on it, "Now, all you have to do is look for a job?" "Could be, but here's the thing, I'm not really good at doing anything..." he almost didn't share, "except riding around in my red mustang, looking for cute guys." After which, Luc finds he's said more than he needed to. "When I was hired," Adam says, "I had a choice between working with horses, or a desk job. I didn't know anything about horses," but after talking with Rusty, "now I feel confident I could learn. You can have my job?" Steb butts in, "No offense, but that would be up to the man who does the hiring?" Rusty gets bold, "this is Cleg ranch and I'm a Cleg, so I'm hereby making Luc the desk clerk and Adam...well, something to do with horses." Adam responds with gladness of heart, "Oh good, an outdoor job where I'm not cooped up all day. Thanks, `boss!'" It wasn't a hug, but bro-butting of shoulder to shoulder something more than brotherly to Rusty. With second thoughts, Luc says, "Um, not which I'm not grateful, but think you might have a job, where I can work on my tan?" "Excuse me, I hope I'm not interrupting anything, but I was wondering if you could direct me to the Human Resources department, if there is such a place?" At first, it was thought Luc's father had returned. However, the picture of a short, fat, stubby man was totally different than an older, swimmer's build-dude, Seattle Seahawks cap on his head, `Hawks jacket, shorts and in sandals, glasses on his face. Whipping a paper out of one of his jacket pockets, he brings it over to the pool, "I saw your ad in the paper." Adam was right there, holding his hand out. By the time he passed the want ads, small section of the paper, over to Rusty, it was already looking fatigued by moistness. Taking it, studying the fine print, Rusty says, "I didn't even know we had an ad in the paper." Sure enough, there it was, recognizing the phone number, but was stumped by, "Cleg's Ranch Resort?" Rusty is baffled, "When did we become a resort?" Without much communication with his father, Rusty was being left in the dark. Steb, having been hired by Tim, Rusty's father, probably knew more than any of them, "There's probably you need a lot of catching up on, Rusty." "Apparently, so." With Rusty, again that feeling of father-son animosity returns. Steb, he had been more of a shoo-in, hired as a result of Tim and his older brother being room mates at college. All Luc was out for is to refresh himself, from his journey from the airport, in a taxi where the air conditioning had failed a week ago. Much the same, Adam had ventured out to the pool for dip and relaxation, after his checking out on his day job at the front desk. Now, "Uh, about the job? If you're not interested, I could be on my way?" Whether Rusty was paying much attention, dwelling on the `resort', Steb was more with the situation at hand, in particular the salt and pepper, `dad' look, facial trimmings, and those hairy legs, making his mouth water. Not about to allow this fish to return to the sea, "Uh," he goes from consoling Luc, to tagging Rusty on the shoulder, "the least we could do, since..." he stops, looks up, "what's your name?" "Harry Hackle-Barney, at your service!" Steb knew the smile was intended for him, "Since `Harry' came all this way, the least you could do, is give him an interview?" "Interview?" Rusty questions, "Like, what would I know about giving an interview?" What a pal, Steb saying, "I could be your backup?" "Maybe," Rusty wasn't sure. However, it would feel weird, interviewing a guy while in the water, "I guess I should at least dry off." With hands on the sides of the pool, ready to heave himself off, Rusty is suddenly motionless. They watch as Harry takes off the team jacket, turns and walks over to the lifeguard bench, "Don't trouble yourself." Rusty looks to Steb, wet swimsuit half out of the water. Steb shrugs both shoulders, cocks his head to one side, smiles. "Thanks, `backup!'" Pulling off the shirt, with the big `84' on the back, they all are quiet in the water. Seems Lucs problem has suddenly disappeared, them all waiting for Harry to turn around. "Well," Harry rubs both hands together, kicking off sandals, "shall we get down to business?" Before doing so, Steb finally lends some advice, "Not until we race!" "Race?" rang throughout the pool. Instead of walking around the pool to the shallow end, Harry makes a dive, swimming for the deep end. Halfway to the baby steps, Steb makes a u-turn, flipping himself over in the water, much like Tom Daley would do at the Olympics. Lined up at the sides, Luc and Adam stood in the water, Rusty sitting on the edge, Adam saying, "That was a failure." "What is?" Luc asks, temporarily forgetting his money troubles. "Without a proper wall to spring yourself off, you're not going to be able to propel yourself in the water to make good time." Rusty, eyes still on the `older' dudes, says, "Hm, maybe you should be a lifeguard, Adam?" Quick thinker, Luc, wanting to gain more, lose less, of his tan, "I though you were having Adam work the horses?" Rusty wasn't sure about anything, having been informally been handed a position he knew little about, "I did say that, didn't I?" Adam, perhaps wiser then the other two, stares at Steb and Harry, readying themselves at the deep end, "Then who will get to man the front desk?" Quiet prevailed, the other two reading Adam's mind. "Go!" Rusty laughs, saying, after Harry's shout, "Oh, Steb is not gonna like that!" Then he laughs, knowing Steb doesn't play fair! Truly, but nicely, Steb didn't, floating, cursing, "I was supposed to start us off, Harry!" Like he was standing, Steb raises hands in disgust, only to sink down into the water. Then he flails around, realizing what he's done! In a flash, Harry was back, next to Steb, hanging onto the edge of the pool, "What happened to you, mate?" "I was supposed to give us the go ahead?" "Oh. Really? I figured with all that gabbin', we should get on with it. I'm so, so sorry." "You should be," Steb says, though not so mad at Harry. "I could...think of a way to make it up to you?" Even though Steb was not fuming mad, how could he not forgive that angelic face, "Well, okay. I forgive you." "Thanks!" Steb stay floating there, gasping, like for air, mouth open, "I can't believe you did that!" What Harry had done, underwater, incognito, is give Steb a little love-pinch on the bumb, which he was still giggling over, like a little girl! Leaving the `old men' to their chatter, Rusty, Luc and Adam were talking up their new jobs, until... "Hey, how's the water?" Adam, he thought he saw the dude around. Luc, he didn't know him. Rusty, "Back from town so soon, Evan?" "Yeah," he eyes up the pool, far and wide, "had enough of that line-dancin'-my-ass-off!" A fast-peeler, Evan had stripped down and made a cannonball in the pool. Right in the middle of their straight-lined-swim, Harry says, "What the hell was that?" If was like a mine hitting a ship, Evan's plunge sending out shockwaves. Though, his interest didn't lay in the two relay racers, but the trio at the side, swimming underwater like a shark on the prey. "I see you've made some new friends, Rusty?" Fact is, one new friend in particular, when Evan surfaced, Luc could feel the water rush off, splashing on his chest, "Aren't you good with your flippers?" Evan flashes a toothy grin at Luc, "Take me to your sea cave and I'll show you how good!" Luc was taken aback, it showing, "How do you know I'm even..." "Trust me," Rusty had trusted, "Evan knows!" Flashing a smile towards Rusty, Evan could tell he was completely forgiven. Knowing he didn't have his father's purse strings to cling to any longer, Luc, finding Evan's offer attractive, "It'll have to be your cave. Right now I'm cave-less." Being facetious, Rusty says, "Why don't you get Al and take him up to the old homestead, Evan?" "Oh!" Evan snapped a finger, which didn't snap, standing there looking at his wet digits and why they failed him. "Got something to share with us, Einstein?" Rusty asks. Forgetting about the physics of why wet fingers won't snap, Evan says, "You didn't hear...how could you hear? Al, I saw him talking to a guy, so naturally, the informed person I am..." "You mean, eavesdropper and wanting to know everyone's business, Evan?" Luc stands up for Evan, addressing Rusty, "Why are you being so mean to him?" Adam, who had been silent in the water, had slowly worked himself backwards, till he could fit his midsection in between Rusty's thighs, looks up, "Yeah, why?" He wanted to bend over, but Rusty had never kissed a dude, let alone in public, but upside down! Then, looking around, he noticed he would not be alone. On the far side of the pool, he hadn't even been aware of Steb and Harry, hoisting themselves out of the pool, enjoying some quiet time, Harry lying on the cement, Steb over him, planting sweet kisses all over his chest. To his right, suddenly Luc and Evan had become more than best friends. In lieu of the fact everyone was preoccupied, except himself, "I think we should get out and discuss your terms of employment, Adam?" % Copyright 2016 T. Chase McPhee "JoLLy RaNCHeRs" and developing segments of this story, may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author, or you will be forced to your knees.