Date: Sat, 15 Feb 2014 09:15:51 -0500 From: T.CHASE MCPHEE Subject: HaRD iN THe SaDDLe 01 (Giv2Get continues...) The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons, of ranches or rodeos, continents or islands, in countries, counties, cities, towns, villages, neighborhoods, streets, cul-de-sacs, nor governmental or non-governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then why are you here? Seriously, if guy-to-guy sex stuff makes you barf or is going to screw up your mind, you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age in any state (21yo in Alabama, Mississippi, Wyoming, Nebraska), or in most countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such. Following, pages of this story contain `adult material', intended for an `adult audience'. Bypass this warning at your own risk. % Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection. Hey dudes, if you have enjoyed reading NiFTy stories as much as I have over the years, consider adding some support for `internet $pace'. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html ^o^ Concluding remarks ~ reading this story could make you stiff or gooey, so I would suggest not reading it at work... just sayin'! :) % HaRD iN THe SaDDLe 01 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee % LL always commanded a tight schedule, believing in a certain delegation of people around him, a sly, but friendly way of to carve out a life of pleasure and not a drudge. Right now, many of his work force, normally tied into the main office, were out doing their duties, lawyers, people of the past involved with construction, surveyors, those who did the legwork and others, behind a computer, all towards one effort, to bring both, the old `Camp Rufghup' and farm to par, to sustain life and labor. Of course, with any incorporation, profit was key, but LL took the ladder to new meaning, `You have to give into life, in order to get out of it', which included a little fun along the way! Right now, LL had everyone, those employed at what is now known as `Bryce Farms', which originally was to be `Bryce's Farm', but because of a letterhead err, the new name applied, everyone gathered at an outlying, decrepit building. After introductory speech, mainly to make sure everyone was on the same page, the joint venture, annexing the former camp to the Bryce Farms estate, LL, with no surprise, passes the mic over to Gio. In turn, Gio, who liked Jef Laird very much, decides on using the assemblage to get Jef's feet wet, or fall on his face, whichever comes first. Prior to Gio stepping up to the podium, he stuffed a piece of paper into Jef's hand, his welcoming speech! He wasn't too formal about it, Gio saying, "Listen up to my new right hand man. And any smart remarks, I'll kick that man's ass over the fence!" There was some talk, about Gio, the size of his foot, connected to the 6'2" tall, muscular man. Attention waned as Jef stepped up to home plate. Gio just smiled at the `take down' of the rookie. "Hi. As Gio already told you, I'm Jef Laird and I've got some important stuff to lay on you, so listen up. Because, if you goof up, it's because you weren't listening up. If you get Gio's foot up your ass, it's your own fault!" While listening to round of laughter, Jef looks to Gio for reaction, which is a thumb's up. However, he didn't smile back, but turned his attention to the crowd, "Okay, so listen up..." Gio was amazed, to say the least, how Jef must be a speed-reading expert, which is the term LL came up with, the two chatting Jef up, LL casually saying, "Sure as there is a heaven and hell, if I'm right about Jef, he'll be an asset to the company, if he continues on the serious way he delivers." Eyes glued to the orator, Gio replies, "I'm sure he will... I'm sure he will..." Familiar with Gio's ways, in comparison to the hair pattern on his front, LL says, "I hadn't meant it in that way, Gio!" Leaning to LL's ear, "Fuck off... Every man has his dream!" Cupping his right elbow in left hand, LL rolls his eyes, tapping index finger to his lips, "Now, where did I hear that before?" "The `fuck off' or..." "You know what I mean, Gio?" LL gives him a jab! There were very few people who could bruise Gio's ribs with an elbow and get away with it! Then, knowing he was set up, Jef gets even, "If anyone missed some of the rules and regulations I've gone over, see Gio and he'll have copies run up for you." Indeed, some missed Jef's points of reference, either talking about how young he was to be in such a high position, as working for the, now owner, of both properties and their development, or just shooting the bull, either dressing Jef down or `undressed' and in their bed! Passing by Gio, Jef smiles, says, "Thanks for the notes, chief," he makes sure, as he stuffs the crumbled up script into Gio's solar plexus, his fingertips messing with the top of Gio's belt buckle! "Did you see that?" Gio turns to LL and whines. Smiling, LL responds, "Every man has his dreams!" Indeed Jef did. Big ones. Loved to have them sucked on, as well as other parts of the anatomy and then once he had a guy where he wanted him to... Gio knew he wouldn't get any flack from a skinny, `runt', who has been with LL's firm for numerous years, Rick Santini. An engineer for the firm, Rick has dabbled in artistic work, designing sculpture out of different types of metal. Behind the scenes, as part of LL's closed-circle of employees under him, Rick had been dubbed `the slut'. Known to the clan, with the exception of Jef, Rick has tasted all of their cocks and has been fucked by all of them... except Jef, which when the time is right, the 37-year old will close in and conquer... rather surrender! Rick was up on the podium exactly for a half of a minute, because there wasn't much to be told, other than what was already explained. Therefore, he didn't wallow in unnecessary words, but introduced instead, Emerson Haggard, architect in good standing, having designed LL's business complex, interiors of his condo in Ft. Lauderdale, Beach House on Fire Island, the loft in Soho and house he leases to Justin Bieber, which Emerson was sure would need a total makeover when the singer vacates the premises, if the rumors heard, were true. He made it quick, holding up preliminary sketches. Introducing the newest edition to the architectural force, Samuele Larrengina. Emerson didn't put him on display, nor leave him to fend for himself with paper in hand, but made it an instant intro and went on to tell about the transformation of the landscape, which would virtually tear down every building on both properties, with exception, the farm house. What was not mentioned, because LL was still tossing it around in his head, was a permanent residency, because he liked the territory and smell of clean, fresh air. After leaving the podium, feeling the excitement in the air, which Emerson self-claimed, sexy Aussie accent, coupled with good looks, he passes by LL, saying, "Let me know when you're ready to put that dream-house on the board. I need the work!" "Sure," LL replies, "I'll give you some work!" he kneed Emerson in the butt. Anyone else and it would have cost them more than a smile over the shoulder and `the finger!' Once again, LL's go between, Gio, returns to the podium, introduces a few other key players, which at this time had no speech to deliver, except last two in line, mentioning name and duties, "Pavel Balicki is LL's and `only' LL's driver. If you can't find a ride, don't bother to ask. Hoof it!" There was some chatter, all knowing whom Gio talked about, given the wave of a hand, shades over Pavel's eyes, red and white truckers cap on his head. "Lastly, you get to talk with this man as much as you want," Rusel slowly walks over to the podium, the big, beefy swimmers bod dictating how he could hold his own, "Rusel Decker is in charge of everything from your toothbrush, to how you dress. Dress appropriately," and of course there was a punchline, Gio saying, "which includes how you `dress' at night!" A wink told all! Corky turns to Ron, "I don't get it?" Sarcastically, Ron tells him, "Cock? Condom? Get it, dork?" In the crowd, of course, some had their opinions, saying how much better it was, without! Upon his being hired, by Gio, the 26-year old Marine did indeed talk like the way he walked, because as was told him, by Gio, after just being hired out of the service, those in his position have been sweet-talked out of company supplies, ending their career in termination. At Rusel's final interview, Gio thinking he was on the up and up, taken in by Rusel's sexy, studmuffin appearance, told him, because of how he carried himself, he could be compromised by another guy's bartering, sex for goods. Well, first thing from Rusel, he accuses Gio of inferring he was `gay', even though he was, then standing up to Gio, pressing his beefy chest up against Gio's worked out pecs, telling him he knew how to handle himself. Well, Rusel had given it back to Gio, which included, "You want to know how tough I can be? Drop those pants and turn around. I'll show ya!" Gio, hands on hips, just says, "Well fuck me... You're hired, son!" Of course, Rusel never got to fuck Gio, because he wasn't as free with where he put his cock, however he's been scoping out some of the others, but too honest and smart to barter away what wasn't his. Spunk was enough! As with the day of his interview, Rusel was no different, putting the fear into the lads who would make up the new work force. Travis, Bastian and Keith-Kyle were given brief introductions, but their lines of work were not too pertinent to the gathering; Travis, company attorney, Bastian computer tech and security, Keith-Kyle, communications and publicity. At the conclusion, on behalf of Gib security, Birch was introduced, Gio introducing him, summarizing, "I understand they are hiring," he throws out the hint, "good luck with that!" he winks. There were new positions to be filled, obviously the new venture too much of a burden for one person per department, but as per LL's direction, Gio had eyes open for recruits whom could fit the job. Dispersing, LL reminds, "Don't forget about the new human resource person to replace you?" "What the fuck does that mean?" Gio says `nicely.' "I was thinking of making you a partner. What do you think?" Gio responds, "Well, it's about fucking time!" "Thanks for being so candid!" LL laughs. Seriously, Gio says, "Hey, I've been wondering what I've been saving up all those paychecks for!" Smiling, LL tells him, "Well, keep saving up because for right now I'm not asking for a cent." He knew he would get some flack from Gio. They went back a long time, to the kidnapping incident, which seems like since he was a kid, but not that far. "No, no, no. I need to give you something in return," Gio argues. "Okay. How about we shack up?" "I was thinking, `money'!" Slowly unbuttoning his camo-green shirt, from the neck, LL answers, "I was thinking more about a swim in the lake!" Taking off, Gio's voice trailed, "Not if I get there first, `partner!'" In the near distance, all LL could think of, the sun shining off the wide-shouldered, cocoa-brown skin, something akin to smelling a fresh apple cobbler, "Mm-mm!" "Something grab your attention?" Down to his fuzzy bellyhole, LL says, "Oh, Jef, um yeah..." he acts like a shy schoolboy, "I was thinking of..." "Yeah, me too," Jef replies, moving LL's hands right out of the way, making way for his own fingers in the disassembly. "You were?" LL drops his hands, looks down, up, into Jef's eyes. "Now, this presents a dilemma," Jef stops, rubs his chin. "How so?" LL didn't get it. "Well, there's two ways at getting at the buttons of the shirt which are buried in a man's pubes?" Gulping, LL says, "If we weren't out here in the open, I'd say go the route `you' have in mind, but..." Smiling, the 22-year old says, "Then again, maybe I'm overstepping my grounds, stripping off the boss' shirt? Do you recall if it was one of the rules?" "To do it or not to do it?" LL tries to confuse the issue. "Oh, what the hell!" Jef replies, his hands pulling LL's shirt out of his pants, unfastening those two last buttons. "By the way, anyone ever tell you, you have a hot bod?" "Dozens. Why?" "Here's another one for your tally," Jef says, a cocky smile on his lips. "Aren't you going to finish?" LL asks, when Jef's hands relax from stripping the shirt off shoulders. "Nah. I don't want to start something and not be able to finish it." "Oh?" LL looked for more answers. Not disappointing him, Jef says, "Yeah, Gerald Bronte, from Gib Security?" Shrugging his shoulders, LL retorts, "I might have met him, but don't remember." "I'm meeting him at the lake for a swim. I can walk you over?" Thinking it sweet, LL declines, "In case some bear comes out of the woods and decides to have his way with me?" Laughing, Jef tells him, "Bye LL. Have fund with your bear-friend!" he waves. Watching the hot young stud leave, LL says to himself, "So many... So little time... A guy's gonna get a complex!" Soon as he says it, three bears break through the bushes, "Hey, what are you up to?" Emerson asks. Seeing the three, stripped to the waist, towels over shoulders, LL says, "Same place as you!" Two were very familiar, of course Emerson and the `sheriff', Brad McKenna, but LL's gaze, which could be picked up on by one who has been in his employ for centuries, Emerson says, "By the way, this is Cyril Bouchiere, your new bootcamp instructor." "I'll say!" LL shakes hands, feeling the tough grip. Of course, his eyes were all over the 32-year old, 6', muscled `warrior', taking notice of the fur, from neck to navel and beyond, two perky nips on the muscled chest, a strip dividing the taut solar plexus and a composite sketch of what lay under the speedo. "Nice to meet you," Cyril replies in a softened tone, much much different than the way he would conduct a platoon of crossfitters. Strangely, as they walked towards the lake, LL was sure he would connect with Brad. Instead, Emerson and Brad cut out on him, which made him wonder if this was planned or a whim. "So, what are you about?" LL asks, having not seen any personnel files. "I won't hide the fact I was at camp to assist in the rehabilitation of campers, but mine never showed up, so I worked out instead," Cyril says, a little chuckle added. "I can see that!" Not because LL was boss, but call it preliminary infatuation, Cyril replies, "Oh, I bet you're not so bad yourself, under that shirt?" Stopping their casual walk, whereas Emerson and Brad had a little more hustle to their feet, LL says, "Only way to find out is to take a peek?" he strips off the shirt hanging over his shoulders like a coatrack. "I suppose you'll be able to tell a lot about me, when I tell you I think you're hot?" "Great. Now I know," LL sums up him being gay! "Now what do we do? Shack up?" "Why don't we join the others, think about it and leave more serious matters till later?" LL was joking, but could tell Cyril totally serious, which left him, "Oh, okay," unsure, loving the feeling of rubbing forearms, hair to hair, skin to skin. % Copyright 2014 T. Chase McPhee `HaRD iN THe SaDDLe (Giv2GeT), and developing segments of this story, may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.