Date: Mon, 27 Feb 2017 11:43:40 +0000 From: TCHASE MCPHEE Subject: ?JoLLy RaNCHeRs? 27 % This work of fiction is set in the format of real-world situations. Identifying details to real people, alive or dead, is entirely coincidental in nature. % 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 laws and conscience. The pages of this story contain `adult material', intended for an `adult audience.' Bypass this warning at your own risk! % 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. % 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" 27 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee ^ 0 ^ % Seriously, when they woke up, all the bed covers were on the floor, except the one covering over Rusty's bod! First to come alive, Rusty did feel the brunt of his lover's bulked-out chest, which suddenly gave him the impression there was no air in his lungs, "uh, Michael?" Talking to the side of Michael's head, he was too weary to pick it up, "what?" "You're awake?" Picking up his head, softly yawning, Michael replies, "yeah. Been that way for the past 10 minutes. Why?" "As usual, you're kind of crushing me?" "Oh. Right," Michael agrees, doing a half pushup. Rusty inhales deeply, exhaling. Glancing to the side, "Um, maybe that's because...I didn't feel like getting out of bed, to get the covers?" Then again, Rusty thought about it, "and what could be more stimulating than your warm, fuzzy chest?" He almost had conniptions, Michael feeling 2 paws on his chest, closing in on the `sensitive places!' "Mm'm-m," Michael reflects on last night, rubbing a hand over one pec and the other, "you sure did firm'em up!" Rusty wholeheartedly agrees, "Wow, did I ever...they're as hard as a rock!" While the two hung in bed, on the other side of camp, the mess hall came alive. After several `rehearsals,' the kitchen crew knew the schedule, Dave, Zack, Casper, Bret, Perry, and Hwan, all rising at the ungodly hour of 4am. In the separate bedroom, another resident was stirring awake. "Really?" Tommy says, patting the bed next to himself. Antonio was gone, which made him look at the clock. His new acquaintance had mentioned `rise and shine' came at an early hour. Tommy Higginbottom had strolled onto the property yesterday afternoon. One of the town locals, he had been away at college, achieving a degree in biology. After 2 years he switched it up to environmental studies. With a buff-cub bod and nice sized adornment, he also got in tight with the head of the science department, Walt Whitley. It wasn't only that he graduated high school with a 4.8 GPA and maintained perfect standing across the board with his college subjects, his 9.5 playing a part of the whole package. Granted special privileges, Tommy secured a spot on all the science department trips. Other guys on the science trips, like ocean research in the Seychelles, loved it that Tommy was on board. Such was the response of applications, the science head having to turn applicants away. Not Tommy. He always met the dean's stamp of approval. Growing up in the area, going away to college, Tommy was now back on home turf. It is most likely why the town board chose him to represent his hometown. Using what he knew, how town locals loved giving pats on the back, money under the table, other ways of persuasion, all Tommy had to do is sit there, grin and `look pretty.' However, there was a reason Tommy went far, far away to college. Being a fat, blubbery kid, no matter how smart a guy is, he still was bullied and no one did anything about it. It was his turn to get even. Not a vengeful bone in his bod, Tommy thought of slimming down and bulking up, enough revenge. Could be a possibility, while he streamlined his bod with muscle, those dudes who were muscle heads, could go in the opposite direction. There was at least one in every crowd and Tommy hoped he would meet up with one of them on the town roads one of these days. Though stumbling upon Cleg Ranch Resort, he put those thoughts on the back burner. Right now, lying there in bed and hugging a pillow, Tommy had wished it were Antonio. He smiled, thinking of the lovely time they had, night before. Still, he couldn't get over, now nodding off at 2am, how Antonio had the stamina to roll out of bed... "Good morning, sleepyhead!" Sometimes, interruptions could be had at the worst time, like when a guy is thinking something, while grinding his meat into the mattress! Turning over, Tommy says, "Oh, I wasn't sleeping." "Hmm," Antonio says, carrying a tray in, "how could I not tell!" Quickly, Tommy pulls the pillow from his head and places it over his pubes, "Oh. That," he giggles. "Perfect," Antonio calls it, "killing 2 birds with one stone. Sit up." Taking the hint, Tommy shimmies up, till his back is against the headboard. The pillow becomes the table and cushion for his coverup. Setting the tray down, Antonio remarks, "the heat from the bottom of the tray could make you subside?" "Or your hand?" Tommy plays along. Wiggling his eyebrows, Antonio says, "well, I can't say I didn't enjoy that double whammy we had going last night!" It had come to a stalemate after both crawled into the sack. Neither wanted to relinquish the top position, so Antonio was a good sport and switched about, till his head was between Tommy's legs. "Tell you the truth," Tommy smiles, mind on the sweet sex, "I hadn't done a 6-9 in a very long time." "Really?" Antonio smiles, "because you are so very good at it!" "Ha-ha," Tommy makes his laugh as sullen as possible. Of course, they were speaking about how each managed to give an excellent blowjob, while hands meandered all over the other's bod. Not following any timetable, each allowed the other to pop out of their mouths, for some kissing... that kind of stuff. "Thanks. Occasionally I do enjoy sucking a man's cock." "No, what I was talking about are the eggs!" Embarrassed by traversing down the wrong path, Antonio remarks, "I knew that. Has the tray cooked-down your erection any?" "Right after you placed the tray on the pillow. Why? Interested in firming it up again?" "Would be nice," Antonio says, "but duty calls. Maybe later?" he tested. With no response, Tommy wasn't sure. "Antonio walks out the door, but grabs hold of the frame and turns around, "oh, by the way, mi casa y su casa, anytime you're in the neighborhood!" Walking all the way to the kitchen mess hall, Antonio had a smile on his face. Even though he didn't get to fuck last night, he did enjoy the tune Tommy was humming. Any throat, making him explode like that, was a treasure no one would want to let go. Back at the kitchen, walking in the `servant entrance,' he was sure he'd have to yell at one of the guys for not getting something right, but was amazed to find everything moving along, like a finely tuned engine. It was the first time he could park his ass on the edge of the sink, stand there with arms folded over the middle and just admire how good the guys were getting along. Not only everyone working in a concerted effort, he loved the way Brett took on the responsibility of always standing at the stove. The kid was really taking pride in his job and that meant much to the `chef' in charge! Though, not once was Antonio ready to let down his guard. Sashaying over to the stove, he peers over Brett's shoulder, "looks a little raw, yet?" They could laugh and joke, in a certain way, which is how the kitchen ran, high on a cloud, "probably not as raw as Tommy's ass, eh?" Suddenly, all the clanging of pots, bell-like tones of flatware and human chatter ceased to exist. It was like everyone was waiting for an answer! "Okay, what gives?" "Nothing" rang out, throughout the kitchen, the noise levels picking up. Antonio was sure it was something, marking Brett as his target to find out, "what was that about?" "Like they said. Nothing," Brett replied. Maybe he was just reading into something which wasn't so, Antonio dropping his suspicion. He really should have kept up the tirade until he found out. If he did, Antonio would have found out about the guys eavesdropping in on him last night. Even though a solid, log wall between the suite of cots and his room, the sounds of sex could still carry, up at the top of the rafters. First order of business, were the boys guessing who was doing what. Hwan was certain Antonio was a top, so therefore that put Tommy on his knees. With keen sense of hearing, Casper claimed both were making slurping noises. Perry then posed the question to Casper, how he could tell there were two distinct sets of slurping lips? The others jumped in, on Perry's side. Casper withdrew his assumption. Then they decided it was too early in the evening to guess what was happening. Meanwhile, all this talk about Antonio and Tommy had set their own loins into action and soon the boys were making their own slurping sounds. When they started to hear elevated human sounds coming from Antonio's chamber, one of the boys started the tsunami rolling. From a simple, `I bet', it turned into real Las Vegas-style gaming, Dave scribbling down the info. Later, Perry, the mathematician, entered the bets, for and against, like who fucked or sucked the other and came up with the odds. That's the reason for the sudden dead silence in the kitchen, the lot of them waiting for a clue, as to who won the jackpot! Alas, it wasn't to come about just yet. It was all too easy for Antonio to forget about it, watching how his kitchen workers pulled together the perfect breakfast. It wasn't without a few flaws, Antonio having to instruct Dave on how to cut up melon. "Uh, Dave?" he called after the Barklee lad, carrying a tray out to the dining room. "What's up?" Dave hesitates. "I think maybe, for now, you should stick to dishwashing and garbage duty?" "No sweat," Dave replied. "I think it's my thing anyway." It definitely was, Antonio hoping his diners didn't notice the melon quite squishy, from Dave's handling, while slicing. Dave didn't mind the tidying up aspect of his kitchen job. It was much better than having to think about what ingredients to add, to make a dish turn out acceptable to the taster's palate. Too, going out back of the building with garbage, it gave him a chance to breathe in the fresh country air. Occasionally, he saw someone walk by and if the dude looked cute, Dave would draw him into conversation. Maybe more! Not part of the kitchen crew, Tommy showed up with the other ranch hands, at 6 o'clock. He wasn't the first, nor the last man sitting. Most would just shout out the word, `grace' and then dig in. Not everyday was smorgasbord, but sit down, country style. For this, the offenders were transformed into waiters. What Coury thought strange, instead of having gripes heaped on him, the guys in the offenders program actually seemed like they were liking their `punishment!' "How's the eggs, bro?" There he was again, like at every meal, Brett standing there, over Bart's shoulder. Eating, his mouth too full to react, Bart nodded his head up and down, until he could mutter, "good. You cook'em?" "Yup. I'm the head chef now!" If it were true, it would be a big accomplishment for Brett, but for now Coury just smiled. He was glad the 20-year old found something more useful than putting guys into full nelsons! Then, sitting himself down, his superior, Owen Barklee says, "Did you hear the news?" Coury jokes, "I'm finally getting put out of my misery and being laid off?" Smiling, Owen says, "the only way you leave the program is in a box!" "Morbid," Coury says of it. When Marco had presented the fact, the other day, he wasn't in charge of the offenders program, Coury didn't mind at all. More of a `doer' and `follower', he hated paperwork, even though now, it was `computer-work'. Regardless, not having to sit at night playing, catch up on the administrational details, meant he could spend more time with `Sam'. "What I was I about to say, before I was rudely interrupted?" First impression, Coury had thought Owen was all strictly business, but now he's finding out there's another side to him, "sorry," he smiles back at Owen. "Forgiven, but next time there'll be hell to pay!" "What happens if there's not a next time?" Owen raises one eyebrow, "then I'll just have to beat your ass up over nothing!" "Hm-m," Coury grins, raising eyebrows. "Now that we've got that out of our systems, let's get down to business. Marco has informed me that our offenders program is a success and has taken in some riffraff from the next town over." `Next town over' meant the next town, next town and next town, until the lot of delinquents had numbered 16. "Sixteen more added to what we have?" Coury responds. "Are any of the offenders we have now, being a problem?" He already knew the answer, Coury confirming, "no." "Then really, we only have `16' in the program. Between Gianni, Amir, Kent and Jimi, I think we can handle it?" One part the equation was missing, "what about me?" "You? You'll be keeping tabs on the newly conditioned offenders. Think you'll have a problem with that, Coury?" Man, did Coury love the way Owen said his name. Faced with really nice looks, the command of his voice, he would follow Owen to the ends of the earth! "Nope. Can't see why I would have a problem." "Good. Then it's settled. Every day I expect a report on each one's achievements. Hopefully, there won't be any negativity in your reports." "Or, you'll have to whip my butt?" "Oh, do I need a bad report to do that?!" Owen says, rising up out of his chair. Watching Owen walk away, it almost made his mouth water, wanting to do something with `his' butt! "Coach, how's it going?" "`Coach'?" Coury questions Bart's insinuation. "Yeah. Your leader, the one you report to," Bart nods towards the door, where Owen stops to chat, "tells me your starting up a beach volleyball team?" "News to me," Coury hoped his assigned duties would not be an ongoing guess-tification. "Well, if you are, you can count me in." He loved Bart like a son, maybe more, Coury feeling able to joke, "you know, you wouldn't be able to get the ball away from an opposing team member, by sucker-punching him in the gut?" "Really? I thought that's how the game was played!" Bart says sarcastically. Then, to meddle in their conversation, "hey, Coury, sorry, but I can't follow you around today." "Why?" Coury pouts, latching onto Sam's arm. "The boss' orders. I have to meet up with a fellow environmentalist and talk shop," Sam replies. Bart notices Coury still holding Sam's arm. A bit jealous maybe, he's glad Coury has met up with someone, other than a youth like himself. Too, Bart is happy with Zack. He dwells on the name, Zack York, a temporary picture on Bart's brain, thinking on those cute looks and dynamite bod. Snapping out of it, there was more to Zack, like working in the kitchen, which means he can get his hands on extra cookies! "Oh, that's fine. I've got my own job to look after," Coury replies. "See ya later, babe?" Leaving, Sam calls back, "you can count on that," winks! Turning back to Bart, Coury just sits there, staring at the smile on his face. "What?" "Babe? Really, Coury? If I was to guess, I wouldn't think he was your type." "Oh? And what do you think `is' my type?" Coury sits back, folding arms over his bulked pecs. "More like...like yourself." "Are you saying Sam is a `wimp'?" Chuckling, Bart says, "you said it. I didn't!" "Get the fuck outta here, before I write you up!" Of course he was joking, but Bart made like he was afraid, "oh please, sir. I beg of you not to!" Smiling, Coury says, "yeah, right, and tarnish your good record!" More, Coury was sending a congratulatory message. Not only Bart, but Brett and some of the others, all it took was a change of environments and a little taste of kindness, to get them to respond in the same manner. Without mentioning it, Coury had `caught' Brett, helping Dave pick up some spilled garbage one morning, while out on his forestry jog. Apparently, Dave had forgotten to bring 2 of the cans inside and the place was littered with refuse. Those darn bears! What made Coury really proud, was Brett responding to Dave thanking him, issuing a `no sweat'. He wasn't sure, being yards away, but he swore Brett was saying something about payback. "Well, are you going to sit on your ass all day, or get to work?" He was beginning to slip into la la land, Coury looking up, into upside down eyes, "oh. Gianni! what are you up to?" "A meeting of the minds," Gianni helps himself to a seat next to Coury. "You mean, `mindless'?" "Say," Gianni looks around, making sure no other ears were listening, "you ever do any of that stuff we used to do? You know, that..." "I know what you mean, Gianni and `no', I haven't." "Oh," Gianni took it as final, Coury not into the kinky stuff they used to do. "Right," Coury confirms it, his silence making up Gianni's mind, not to pursue the subject. "Well," he gets up, Gianni saying, "I guess then I'll get on with my work. Owen's got us a whole busload of new recruits on their way." "So I've heard." With that, Coury once again returns to his solo status, until the `man' comes over and sits. "I want you to do me a favor." "A favor, Marco? Then you'll owe me a favor!" Marco smirks, saying, "has either of us truly called in on a favor of each other?" "Um. No." "All I want you to do is keep your eyes on things." "Isn't that what you have Owen for?" Most of the time, all business, Marco smiles, saying, "I know you. I don't know him." Coury couldn't disagree, "okay then. No problem. Except..." "What?" Marco gets up out of his chair. "That's gonna be an awfully big favor!" Marco leaves the table, giving his laughing friend the finger! "You and the boss...you are not getting along?" Now, here's a `dish' Coury had wanted to get caught in conversation with, "Amir! Have a seat...uh, no...I mean yes...I mean, we always get along." "I see Marco give you...a finger...is that not because he is angry at you?" Laughing at Amir's misconception, Coury says, "if he did, he'd get over it in about 2 seconds." To stray from a certain topic, "so, what's on your mind, Amir?" Truthfully, if Amir Hadad had said what was on his mind, he's not sure of Coury's reaction to him. Any man could like him for Amir's incredibly chiseled cheek bones, the beautiful look a man has when not fully shaven, and the `v' of his shirt, chest hair looking like he had combed it this morning. "On my mind is, I am not sure I will do the right thing with these offenders." "What was your expertise again?" "My..." Apparently, Amir had not done too well in English 101, "what you did, before you came here?" "Oh yes...I'm a graduate at farming college. My responsibility at home is for taking care of animals. Here, I work the same. Now I have to look after boys." Slight thought on the side, Coury wondered how Amir was at breaking bulls! "I'm sure, with your..." he was about to say `expertise', "knowhow, all you need to do is lead and the others will follow. What do you think?" He was cute, with his carved up beard, short-cropped to begin with, which made Coury want to stare and study. "I think you explain it to me correct," Amir replies. "I go now and, thank you." "Not a problem," Coury did turn to watch that tight ass walk away. There were men, some fit to get his tongue in there, more wanting his shaft! `So many boys, so little time!' Truthfully, in the first few months of development, Cleg Ranch Resort was buzzing with activity. Right after breakfast, the mess hall emptied out, workers heading out to where they were stationed. "Another day, another dime!" "You got that right!" Though, for two of the workers, originating out of Michael's Seattle bunch, Ned and Jed spoke like laying down fresh words, new to each of them. The pair of lovers, having met at the gay pride center and being no anchors holding them down, decided to make the move out to the ranch resort. They would become known as the cutest couple around the ranch, Ned, 32-years old, backing his 46-year old daddy up against a tree, holding him there with a kiss, while making hands busy down around the waist. For right now, pleasure would have to wait until quitting time, around 4pm. "Ah-h-h-h, isn't this great?" Jed says, looking up into the overhead canopy of trees. "Certainly is," Ned replies, eyes all over his older partner, rather than breathing in nature. "Oh, you," Jed fake-slaps Ned along the chops. "Didn't you get enough of me last night?" "Last night...mm-mm!" Every night seemed special, since they met 2 years ago, in Seattle, whisked in a squished elevator ride, up the Space Needle. Each claims they were the first to notice the other and now the discussion is off the table, since it doesn't really matter. All that does, is they are madly in love, destined to be this way forever. Having a few minor discrepancies, like the difference between hard and soft-boiled eggs, well that wasn't worth fighting over. Often, small squabbles ended in a mutual kiss. From there, hands exploring, Ned would lead, begin the stripping. After working his way down to Jed's hairy navel, there was no turning back. From their very first time, Jed has never given up on the fact, Ned a very tight fit! Worlds colliding, when Ned was laid off from his third temp job, it came at a time when Jed's electrical business was floundering. So, the move to the ranch benefitted both. They lucked out, Ned becoming Jed's apprentice. "You get a feeling of something, Ned?" Other than what he felt last night, motion in Ned's crotch, "uh, what are you getting at?" All Jed could do is shake his head, the 46-year old wondering why he even bothered. "What?" Ned replies. "Never mind," like it's been hashed over and over, Ned's mind always on sucking his cock. Jed couldn't dispute the fact, Ned an expert in the field of cock-sucking, working a soft shaft up into a raging hard-on. Seemingly `gifted', Ned could keep Jed from coming for a period of an hour or more, sweetly working his whole bod, until it was `fucking-time'! "Have you got an idea that, maybe we're being followed?" With thoughts like, Jed's shaft ramming him up between the legs, "uh, I haven't noticed. By who?" A habit of Jed's, could be light as a feather or sharp as a whip, patting the side of Ned's chops, "don't look back!" "Sorry," Ned took it like `love perspective', feeling the place on his face where Jed had just `abused' him. "I think we should smoke him out." "Yeah," Ned says, a grin on his face, almost like it was time to get fucked. "Your turn," Jed replies. It was a normal thing, which they developed on the downtown streets of Seattle. A game, when being scoped out, either Jed or Ned would double back, around a block, following his mate. Eventually, the guy coming up from behind, would notice a head, checking out whom he was following. Then, like two crocs in the swamp, the poor, unsuspecting stalker would be caught up in an old-fashioned `manwich'! Right now, Ned ducks off into the underbrush. Keeping head low, he races out into the undisturbed forest, quickly running, bowing at the waist, head down, eyes open. Staying hidden by the bushes, meant all the difference to the sting. At the same time, Jed is slowing his gait. Steps become shorter, because without their stalker catching up, the fun would not begin! Sure enough, Ned catches a glimpse of a young dude, staring straight ahead. Occasionally he moves his head to the right or left, when a branch is in his face. Keeping his distance, Ned has two things to watch out for; not catching up too quickly and checking to see how far away Jed is. Because their stalker has no clue, things progress rapidly and sooner than later, their prey is captured in the net of about 4-feet spacing. "Oh, helloh-h-h-h-h!" Jed turns around abruptly. >From behind, over their stalker's shoulder, Ned's head peers over the lad's shoulder, "hi there!" He could have bolted, made a run for either the lake or main road, but it was tough to distinguish between either. Didn't matter. What did, was not getting caught in the snafu. It was the `danger' of the game, stalking a hot guy. What wasn't in the rules, was getting caught up from behind! "Hi," the perpetrator said, all clammy. Ned jokes, causing their bounty to turn, "lost?" Jed knows a faker when he sees one. "Uh, yeah. Maybe a little," the cute semi-redheaded lad replies. Closing in, from ahead, Jed says, "well, looks like it's your fortune to come across us." He looks forward, turns and behind his back, then forward again, "who are you?" Ned says, "me Ned, him Jed, and who are you?" Caught up in conversation from behind, he turns, "Tevfik." Then as if a nonstop name-calling, "tevfikbredzinski." With a little accent and what he can gather, Jed says, "Russian?" "A little," Tevfik replies. Then, to pick up the pace, "you cowboys?" They both wore the signature hats, Jed joking, "how can you tell?" Tevfik points to his own baseball cap-on-backwards, "the hats?" It would not be any mystery, as to what a stranger is doing in these parts, on the ranch for the first time, not with a pack on his back. Different about this youth, is a guitar case at his side. "Lookin' for a job?" Jed asks. This is where Ned hung back and allowed the alpha half of the relationship take charge. "Down in the village," Tevfik thumbs his thumb over his shoulder, "someone did say to look up here for one?" Didn't take much thinking, to decipher the `code', Tevfik looking a mess, like his clothes hadn't been laundered in weeks, scruffy look to his face, hair unnaturally long-looking, sticking out the sides of his cap, "when's the last time you had a cooked meal?" That's one of the things Ned loved about his lover, the ability to spot when a guy is down on his luck and instead of turning him out, embrace the fact and mend the problem. It wasn't much different with himself, arriving at the top of the Space Needle. After brief conversation, Ned saying he was in between jobs, Jed read right through him. In a matter of 30 minutes and a trip around the top of the needle, Jed was buying him his first solid meal. "Meal?" Thinking like a language barrier, Ned says, "yeah, you know," he playacts spooning a cereal spoon into his mouth, "food? Yum?" It's amazing, how shy a dude can be, even though he's trekked cross county, from Connecticut, out west and hasn't gained much gumption, "my last bit of food? Can't remember," Tevfik shrugs his shoulders. "Well then," Jed takes the lad by the shoulders, turning him about face, "I think before you pass out on us, we should do something about that." It wasn't taboo, for a worker to happen upon a stranger in the woods, finding a transient on the move, from `here' to `there', in much like the state they have found Tevfik. Instructions per Marco, if this be the case, protocol is to lead that person back to basecamp. Right now, that was the only new building of the ranch complex, the mess hall. In a matter of minutes, since Ned and Jed hadn't wandered too far up the trail, they are back from whence they came. "Come right in," Jed says. Did Tevfik have a choice, both Ned and Jed at his back? Spotting one of the cleanup crew, Jed says, "Perry, we've got a hungry mouth to feed here?" Staring Perry in the face, Tevfik suddenly wasn't feeling famished for food! "Sure," Perry replies, but wasn't doing anything about it! Nudging Ned on the elbow, Jed says, "I think we can leave these boys to their own doings, eh?" Ned would have liked to stick around. It was apparent, Perry and Tevfik already working on a hunch! "Ned?" Jed had to tear his lover away. Outside, Jed reprimands, "whatsamatter with you?" Knowing what was the matter, Jed could very well have answered his question, knowing Ned's mind. Though how could he be tough on his lover, Ned always saying, after checking out a hot cowboy, `they remind me of me and you?' Although lately, Jed has found rebuttal, `yeah, ten years ago!' Back in the mess hall, Perry finally did make his move, to get Tevfik acquainted with the surroundings. "Meals are served at 6am, with light brunch at 11, which coincides with the construction crew coming over on break. The official lunch is at 1pm and dinner at 6. After dinner, well, a person is on their own time." Very taken in with Perry, Tevfik wondered if, under the black-rimmed glasses, could he be just as handsome. Right now though, he hardly knew him, which lent to Tevfik saying, "what do you do?" He felt it a fair question, not making it seem so obvious. Rightfully, Tevfik had no clue if Perry even liked boys! "Me? Nuttin' much. Though most of the time I'll work on some art project I've dreamed up." "Art?" "Yeah, I've got an interest, but right now there's nothing going on with `art', so I work in the kitchen. It's cool. Food can be a creative too. I see you have a guitar?" It put the conversation into Tevfik's tennis court, "I play a little, but not rock'n'roll. Mostly Bach." "JS?" Perry let it be known he `knew.' "You know classical music?" "A little. My family was a little into music, my father's side. My mom's side is into art. Kind of rounds things out." Then Perry stopped there. What he dreamed up, as a young boy, didn't turn out as planned. He thought, since being part of a family of artists, art and music-based, they would be understanding of him being gay. Love of the fine and performing arts, so was not the case of mass production of the family dynasty. Though, right now wasn't the time to discuss such matters. "I'm the only person in my family who had an interest in music. All my brothers and sisters work in the family business, which is importing goods. I don't think I could put up with wearing a suit and working in an office all day," Tevfik relates. What he wasn't saying, is how or why he escaped the unreal attitudes of his family, no understanding or tolerating people different than they are. They had been chatting for about 15 minutes, when Perry goes missing from the kitchen, Antonio coming to retrieve the 18-year old, "are you with us today, Perr...oh, who is this," lovely lad? "Ned and Jed found him wandering woods. This is Tevfik." Perry didn't bother with the surname, not which he could repeat `Bredzinski' back, anyhow. Taking his directives from Marco, Antonio inquires, "so, are you assigned kitchen duty?" "He doesn't know," Perry steps up. "Tev just got here." "Oh. Right. You just said," Antonio recalls. Tevfik just smiled, thinking no one ever bothering to shorten his name. Though, he would allow Perry to call him anything, since being so `nice' to him, he let it pass. "I know a little about working in a kitchen," Tevfik offers. When Antonio took them back to the inner sanctum of the mess hall, where food is dished out, he announces, "hey guys, this is Tef. He'll be working with us, until Marco can sort things out." Another pair of hands in the kitchen was worth nuggets of gold. In building a staff which could handle 50+ workers, the amount of preparers could be more, so he valued Tef walking onto the grounds, with no place to call home! Tevfik smiled again, allowing his name to go the course. Tev, or Tef, it didn't matter. Walking into the kitchen, a den of strangers, only to have them all rally, take his hand, shake it, or bust knuckles, he already felt a part of something special. Demo day, most of the guys were ready to barf, Antonio holding up a dead chicken, "volunteers to prepare a delicious chicken stew?" Hwan, who could cook good cowboy food, never really prepared much from his family heritage. Whenever he made chow mein, it was prepped chicken, minus the feathers and other details which made the fowl recognizable. He didn't raise a hand. For the rest, much of the same, fast foodies... Except one good sport, "I'll handle it," one brave lad walks over to Antonio, taking the bird from it, "no sweat!" Antonio, whom himself had a problem with live fowl, was glad he didn't need to demonstrate, "oh goodie...I'm glad you all aren't a bunch of sissies!" Okay, so to not confuse the newcomer, Perry manages to change Tev, to Tef. No biggie. However, to set the record straight, Antonio does say, "you don't mind if we call you by that name?" Tevfik did wonder why his parents didn't pick `John', `Tom' or `Mike', "no problem at all. It's good with me." As they would come to know, Tef's favorite phase, `it's good' was his way of saying he was pleased with the outcome. For someone special, yet to come into Tef's life, the accolades would be much more impressive, more vowel sounding. As things progressed, most of the kitchen staff were grossed out that morning, except for Tef, whom hacked up the chicken out back and in no time had the pot of soup on the boil. Brett, used to putting guys in a full nelson, approached Tef with a different mindset, laying a hand on his shoulder, "you're the man. I still don't think I could ever do what you did. In fact, I hope you stick around, so I don't ever have to do that to a chicken!" Tef smiled, thinking Brett a really cute guy. Not as tough when he first entered the kitchen. `Demo day' was once a week. Tef was thinking he would look forward to it, offering to do what others didn't have the stomach for. He smiled while doing the chore, thinking what the the return benefit could entail! "Where did you learn to prepare a chicken, may I ask?" Although he was into guys his own age, 19, Tef thought the only `older' dude in the kitchen kind of nice, "family business, I suppose." Importers of fine foods, Tef wasn't cool with a visit the butcher one day, his father showing him the business from the inside, out. Seeing a chicken from the outside, in, he thought it would gross him out, but it didn't. Rightfully, Tef could've been a doctor, but music was his thing and he wanted to pursue it. A bummer, he didn't expect being tossed from the family tree, just because he was gay. There it went, out the window, dreams of ever becoming a musician. Nothing new, it happened to a buddy of his, so Tef knew the route, pack a bag, empty the savings account and hopefully...one day he could be welcomed back home. He was a believer of people being able to change, though mature enough in his thinking, some would never. Still, he was optimistic. Engrossed in his work, Tef did manage to steal looks about the expanse, checking out who he would be working with. Tough as meat, Brett, stuck in his mind. The others, caught up in hushed tones of conversation, Tef thought one of the guys dropped the `g' word. And, he just happened to look up at an opportune moment, two guys, he had yet to memorize names put to faces, gave a fake `front' push against one of the others butt! He wasn't going to share with Antonio, the last tidbit. Seeing what he saw, Tef didn't feel out of line saying, "any of you guys, into dudes?" Except for Antonio, the guys stood there, all with mouths gaping open. Antonio smiled, before speaking his mind, "lad, you're right in the hub of `gay central!'" "Oh good," Tef replies, "because I kind of have had enough of getting put down, because...you know?" Since the guys were listening in, to Tef's family history, they all rallied around him. In particular, Tef was happy to learn of Perry, sharing his joy, "you too?" Confessing more than he had to, Perry, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, "yeah. I was kind of checking you out...out there," he meant in the dining room, where they first met each other. As with Ned and Jed, seeing the writing on the wall, the kitchen crew sense the same, `hands off the new guy,' almost like saying Tef is now Perry's `property'! When all is going nice and happy-go-lucky, in walks fate. Marco, a dude tagging along with him, he announces, "I hate to be the bringer of bad news, but Aldo has something to say." Sure, Marco loves it when he has something to gloat over, but be it a problem, he pawns it off on his attorney! "Um, I uh, have an announcement to make," Aldo stumbles over his words. Placing a finger in the collar of his dress shirt, he vents, "what I want to say is, um..." "Oh for God's sake, Aldo," Marco gets impatient, "what he's trying to say is, you can't work in the kitchen if you ain't certified." "I think you're using `ain't' out of context, Marco?" Marco wanted to punch Antonio in his big-fat gut, but traded it for the less violent, giving him the finger, while scratching the side of his nose! Brett, he wanted to put Marco in a full nelson. There were advantages, like shoving his hard shaft into a guy's ass. A full nelson was a good position for suggesting this. Like the scapegoat he could be, Marco announced he had pressing business, leaving Aldo there to fend for himself. However, being the very good looking man he is, the guys were easy on Aldo. Antonio, who was certified, still spoke on his staff's behalf, "so, what does this mean for my boys?" It made Dave Barklee smile, with a real want to be Antonio's `boy', but the others acted more concerned by the `big bucks' they were making. "Well, Marco seems to think, since you're already certified, we can work around this by officially calling your staff, apprentices." Zack Barklee, having defected from Uncle Karl's linedance club and cafe, just stood there, dreaming, having designs on what he could do, to certify his hankering for the attorney! Matter of fact, while Antonio spoke to `his boys', explaining what all this meant, Zack managed to slip away, through the door the court official just walked out. "Wanna hold up there, Aldo?" Facing away from Zack, Aldo smiles, hoping he walked slow enough to his car. "What can I do for you, Mr. Barklee?" Concerning the colloquial way of speaking on such a formal basis, it didn't jive, Zack replying, "much," he smiles! Things enhanced rather quickly, Aldo repeating, "so, what is it I can do for you?" Distance made the difference, from Zack being several feet, to standing right in front of Aldo's face, "well, first things first, you can meet me later for dinner?" "Dinner?" "Not dinner here. I mean, I'll be serving dinner here, but later. I get off around 7:30, if that's not too late for you?" "Back where I'm from, the menus are served no earlier than 9." He wasn't saying, what was for dessert! "Oh, where is it you are from, Aldo?" "New York City. My family is from Brooklyn." "Long way from home," Zack leans his butt on Aldo's car, right next to him, thinking there wasn't much to his Brooklyn accent, not like his idol, `Streisand'! Both look out into the distance, "a long, long way, which I can't say I'm homesick for." Aldo started opening. Most people were okay with being gay, not all were, for whatever reasons. However, his family were not like most people. His mother had hoped for a big family, numbered with litters of grandchildren. "It became `my' fault that the Iacono family name would die, because I wasn't interested in marrying the woman they chose for me." Zack says, "so, you had to get away from it all?" Aldo turns his head, "you're good at guessing people, huh?" Something made Aldo lose his train of thought, it probably being that, Zack wore a cook's apron, but the shirt underneath had been unbuttoned. There were some ways of getting around a hot kitchen. For Aldo, it was like the biggest tease, seeing flesh and fur! "So, have you met anyone from around here?" "I might have something going with someone, eventually?" Not a dumb bunny, Zack asks, "does his name begin with Z?" Marco, playing those kinky games, Aldo could fold, bend, be shaped into any kind of toy the player molded him into. With Zack though, it was a different kind of atmosphere. Most likely, grabbing Zack by the apron strings and reeling him in for a kiss, tonight he could be on his knees! % Nothing much happened around the kitchen that day, other than Antonio getting hit with a barrage of questions on how to do this or that. Not so for the rest of the ranch. For the past month, saws have been buzzing nonstop. >From the first day of work, Michael has noticed his Seattle crew thinning. Not by minuses, but pluses, Marco bringing new blood into the construction fold. Whereas he thought his buddies would pair off with each other, Michael was wrong, with new faces come new relationships. Not every applicant was gay. Marco made it known up front, without badgering a prospective hired hand, that they would be working alongside same-sex men and women. The kids? Kids rarely noticed, so Marco left it up to the parents to school them. There was only one pair of applicants who were husband and wife, a young couple in their 30's. In their application, they had explained, their reason for leaving behind the old and getting with the new, simply preferring country life to the city. They had a young son, Jon and thought it would be good for the welfare of the child, to be brought up breathing wholesome air. Jordan and Rita had served in the Peace Corp, so had some experience roughing it on the land. Right from the start they had been placed in the `Victory Garden', as the animal and planting section of the ranch has come to be known as. Even though Marco was impressed with their credentials, something didn't sit right with him. Once, during the interview, the couple clammed up. Mysteriously their son, Jon, called his `father', Jordan. Mrs. Norden nervously explained it, as the different manner in which they were bringing Jon up, that where they came from, all the children called their parents by their first name. It would have sat fine with Marco, the explanation, but the nervous way it was delivered, it made him suspicious. Still, he had a good feeling about the couple and the husband, Jordan...well, he was a very fine looking man! However, as Marco does, when matters could become complicated, he shoved the legwork off onto one of his human resources manager. That's what he was hired for. Gathering paperwork, doing initial research, Luke Summers complicated the itinerary on each applicant. After a scant interview, Luke took the applicant to the office next door, Marco. Not all applicants made it `next door'. However, as per Marco's instructions, whether they were given the thumbs up, or down, if a dude were cute, they would be granted an interview! % Standing there with Zack very close to his side, this time not by the side of his car, but side by side, backs to the sandy beach, Aldo reaches for his phone. "Oh, do you need to take that?" Aldo smiles, thinking he'd rather not, "a call from Luke is as important as Marco." Zack hated like hell to remove his hand from the inside of Aldo's speedo, but he knew the implications! Never having an interview, there were other ways a guy could get hired out at the Cleg Ranch Resort. Fortunately for any of the Barklee bunch, Uncle Karl's word was good enough for Marco and like the rest of his siblings, a sure shoo-in for an employment opportunity. For the Barklee boys, all of them thought, coming west and securing jobs at their uncle's line dancing establishment, they would be there until through, at least, college. However, they found, as Zack has, in a changing town, things could get changed up rather quickly. Uncle Karl wasn't getting the raw end of the deal, uncreating jobs he dreamed up, for his nephews to occupy! All it took is one party out at the ranch resort one night, for Uncle Karl to see the need for an alternate entertainment venue. So was born Uncle Karl's second business, `line dancing II'. As of yet, it hasn't been christened with a name, but people now have simply been calling it, `Uncle Karl's out at the ranch'. Karl has no idea how that's going to evolve. Like with Marco, the bottom line is how much money it's bringing in, coupled with the fact, it gives workers at the ranch some R&R! Back at the lakeshore, Zack has already picked up on a few quirky things about Aldo. Like, when duty calls, Aldo jumps into business mode. Right now, having Aldo suddenly jump to his feet, tearing hand out of the cock pocket of his speedo, all Zack's hand senses now, is missing that hard shaft and the feeling of hair on the back of his hand. Though, all is not lost, Zack looking up at what has gone beyond a simple friendship. He tried keeping attuned to the conversation going on, but the sight of how he just firmed up Aldo's family jewels, look of two rounded orbs, inches keeping the bulging speedo firm...it was just breath-taking! Dropping his cell into the briefcase lying in the sand, Aldo gets comfy once more. Before Zack can ask what that was about, Aldo's hand makes him question, "what's this?" Of his raging hard-on, Zack smiles in reply, "that's what happens when my eyes are set on a hot man!" "Well, don't get too `uppity'," Aldo says of Zack's erection, "because in a few minutes, Luke is going to swing by here with the new family on board!" "Oh shoot! I better go take care of this!" For certain, taking on roles, for Aldo to wrap hand or lips around Zack's 8-incher, bob head or hand up and down, working till it shot creme into the air, not to mention the cleanup, well Aldo had already worked out the stats. He knew Luke a fast walker, always with his cell in hand. Knowing each other for only a few days, Aldo laughs, watching Zack make a beeline for the cool waters of the lake. Then, thinking about it, his hand told him so, he wasn't so soft himself! He did have conflicting thoughts, watching Zack plane handfuls of water over his bod. It made him smile, Aldo watching him pull his speedo away from below his navel, scoop the cool liquid into the pouch. Then, like turning the page of a novel, Aldo's mind slipped, from Zack, to Luke. For a 40-year old bear, Aldo thought Luke could be hip as a younger man. An incredibly cool sense of humor, even when serious, Luke's words came across so that a guy had to smile. Often, Aldo would salivate, wondering what was under the business attire. When Luke finally does make it down to the lake, the Norden family with him, it's little Jon who remarks, "can I go for a swim too, Jordan?" His mother reprimands, "Jon, did you forget something?" Luke can pretty much tell what that meant, saying, "it's okay Rita. I know your secret. For whatever reason, it's safe with me." It's then Jordan says, "I guess it's confession time." >From what the Norden family has learned, Jordan has already figured there wouldn't be any consequences, like getting `un-hired'! However, Luke has done the legwork, or rather fingers, digging into the Norden family history. Though, since Jordan's face is easy on the eyes, "whenever you're ready." Having said it, Jordan finds that Rita has taken Jon down to the shoreline, kicked off shoes and waded in. Zack, whatever gummy stuff remained in his speedo...he's lucky he quickly made friends with Jon, helping him into the lake. Rita stay at the water's edge, though did peer out of the corner of an eye, with Aldo standing next to her. Knowing what Marco had laid out, the kind of camp citizens mulling about, she did have her questions, about which way Aldo swings. Though, a little eye candy on her part, of a perfectly hot Italian specimen, in a speedo, it moved her in all the right ways! Meanwhile, Luke was being very gentlemanly about Jordan's confession, "I probably shouldn't have led you on like this, but..." When Luke digs deep, he digs deep, which is why he can predict what Jordan is about to say. It prompts him to hint to Jordan, stepping forward, taking both of the nervous man's hands in his, "that indeed, you and Rita are not husband and wife, but rather sister and brother and Jon is your nephew and not your son?" "How did you...I was just about to say..." Squeezing both of Jordan's hands, a sign to instill comfort, a smile on his lips, Luke says, "it's my business to know all about the people I hire." Short thought, "well, Marco." Looking down at their coupled hands, then up at Luke's face, Jordan says, "and is it customary for you to treat your applicants in this manner?" Letting go, Luke says, "have I offended you?" Exhaling a long sigh, Jordan says, "no. I'm just relieved you're not angry. Truthfully, we...Rita and me, we weren't sure if it made a difference that..." Luke could see Jordan still nervous, so helped out, "that anyone would be offended by you being gay?" Rekindling his efforts, Luke once again takes Jordan's digits in his. Relieved, Jordan finally breaks his nervous attire, with a smile, "I'm glad you understand." "Oh, I more than understand," Luke works the hand-holding into an embrace, wanting to kiss Jordan on the lips. Now able to joke about it, Jordan drops all sense of reluctance, "I suppose I should inform Jon, he can now call me Uncle Jordie?" Coming back to shore, little Jon exclaims, "daddy, you've got to come in. The water is real warm!" Jordan bends at the waist, an advantage for Luke, but it's for Jon's benefit, "you can go back to calling me `Uncle Jordie', Jon." "Oh great," Jon says, walking back to him mother, blabbing to her the good news. Another confession, on Jon's behalf, Jordan says to Luke, "Jon's been under duress with having to keep our little secret. It took him awhile to accept calling me `daddy', when rightfully I'm his uncle." "I have a feeling it's going to be easy to reverse that." "Thanks," Jordan says. "Oh, don't you worry. I'm already thinking ways you can thank me!" "Uncle Jordie, c'mon...you're missing it!" Though, before Jordan can strip off his tee shirt, there in the water lies a crocodile, sneaking up on the 7-year old! Out of the water pops Zack's head, "Hi there!" Then it's understood, Rita and Jon staying there in the lake, ridding themselves of most of their clothing, while Luke takes Jordan over to the barn area, to check out where they will be staying and duties they will be performing. "Of course, now that you're little secret has been `demolished'," Luke speculates, chuckling, "it would probably be more appropriate you have quarters separate than your extended family?" Luke had something up his sleeve, hoping Jordan would fall prey. Jordan wasn't a country bumpkin, a man of the city, of the world. Once out of his shell, he was ready to play it for keeps and being Luke was turned onto him, "what did you have in mind?" "I told you I was thinking of ways for you to thank me," Luke smiles, before pulling Jordan off the beaten path. The forest littered with tall, wide trees, a number could provide the wall to back a man up to. Jordan responds, with back slapped up to the rough bark, "mm-mm!" Not wasting any time, Luke's hands got busy with Jordan's belt, working the buckle open. Likewise, Jordan knew the signs of what was about to transpire, faster at undoing Luke's belt. Simultaneously, they worked like the chugging works of gears and spindles. With pants dropping where they stood, shirts came off, Luke instigating kissing action. Soon, hands were on the prowl, Luke feeling up Jordan's thickly haired front. "Oh!" Luke suddenly says, breaking off the kiss. "Sorry," Jordan says, having heavily pinched Luke's nips! "No," Luke retorts, his palms softly feeling up his own pecs, "it's fine. Just wasn't expecting it." "It's just that," Jordan follows with just a smile. Once again, it seemed to `tame the beast', all Luke had to do is hold hands, put off explanations, in favor of action, "I think we have a lot to learn about each other." It probably should have been obvious, having gotten to the point of being shirtless, pants dropped down about the ankles, that the pair had something serious in the works, "I didn't think I'd end up like this?" "End?" Luke takes with uplifted spirit, "why, I thought we were just beginning!" That's how Jordan wanted it to go. Though, he never dreamed, the first hot guy he met, didn't wish to let go of him, "I'd like that very much." "Good. Then it's settled. You're bunking at my place!" At the mention of his new lodgings, it was Jordan calling the plays, "lead the way." Shame they were already in the throes of a hot standoff, to pull on stripped clothing. With new prospects, being under a roof, it didn't take long to redress. At the moment, new to town, Luke was staying at the establishment called '10 Cabins'. True to its name, out front there were 10 cabins, built in random fashion on a plot of wooded land. Parking at the main lot, itself in front of a cabin, only larger, Luke says, "here we are...good ole no. 6!" When Luke went for the key, in the visor above him, he hopelessly tried to catch it. Falling fast, his eyes followed the chain and tag. It looked like he was peering at his own junk! "Here, allow me," Jordan says, reaching down, underneath the steering. By `accident', he drops the keys on the seat. Retrieving the room key again, his hand `accidentally' grazes Luke's inner thigh. "Ooo-oooo-oo-oo-oo," syllables rolled off Luke's tongue, "you can't tell me that was not accidental?" "Sorry," Jordan is not! Luke says of the nut stimulation, "something tells me I've got to be on my guard, with you." Jordan was thinking more along the lines of surrender! Mostly, they learned all they needed to know about each other. Conversation was not about how beautiful the forest surrounded each cabin, nor the undeveloped dirt pathways. Instead, they were out to interrogate each other, regarding sexual preferences. Strangely, Luke seemed to be the more outgoing, personality wise, but clammed up, when approaching the subject, "so, what do you like?" "Uh, cherry-vanilla ice cream?" Both knew they were not on the path to an ice cream parlor, rather the `love den,' "not that. I meant..." Jumping the gun, Jordan says, "I guess there's not much I haven't been involved in, at one time or another. You?" Being 40-years old, Luke knew he had quite a few years on Jordan, guesstimating he had to be in the mid-to-upper-20's bracket, "I suppose I've done a little bit of everything in my lifetime." Though, Luke was speaking more on terms of employment, than employing certain techniques in bed. With that tidbit of information, seeing a brass number `6' on the side of the cabin up ahead, thought it a good time to pop the question, "do you get into bondage?" Jordan waited, but prepared to bolt and run! "Funny you should mention that," Luke keys the door. "My sophomore year of college, my buddies threw a birthday party for me. They thought it fun to wrestle me to the bed, pin me down and work some ropes around my wrists and ankles." Teasing, "I'm sure the details would bore you!" Luke entered the 3-room cabin first. Following, Jordan `accidentally' bumps his pubes up against Luke's rear, "I think I could get into it, `boy'!" The door slams, behind Jordan's back. At the sound, Luke smiles, thinking how, the position to his liking, had been assigned to him. Luke began yielding to his feelings of excitement, "right. Too bad we don't have any rope, eh `sir'?" Glancing down, to Luke's ankles and back up, Jordan questions, "are those real leather laces in your boots?" Back at college, Luke trusted his college buds, but knowing a dude for all of a couple of hours, "I think we should take it slow." Though, nothing wrong with hurrying it up on the non-bondage stuff, both men going at each others' shirt, belts, etc...again! % Copyright 2017 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.