Date: Fri, 21 Sep 2012 5:04:05 -0400
From: horti123@cfl.rr.com
Subject: DOOBY rhymes with Scooby Part 27

DOOBY rhymes with SCOOBY
By
Jamie Haze

Part 27

Saul Bergen, his art director and his chief photographer with one other man
arrived at the address Dooby gave them at the country club. He checked the
written directions twice as his limo entered the estate. There was no
mistake although the cars' GPS seemed puzzled. The drive curved downhill
along a flood plain with a beautiful river on one side of the drive and an
extensive field on the other. The driver slowed and finally stopped,
mesmerized. All the men gawked at the large herd of white-tail deer that
were grazing near the drive. Three widely separated larger animals wearing
antlers looked up and stared the car down before they resumed eating the
frost tinged grasses.

"Are those things cows? I remember seeing pictures but these don't look
right," the art director, a born New Yorker with his horizons limited to
midtown Manhattan buildings, asked.

The photographer raised his always ready camera to begin framing
photos. His camera whirred repeatedly before he answered, "Those are
deer. Aren't they beautiful creatures? And here they have no fear."

"This is the right address," Saul observed, "but if this is Dooby's family
home, when we find it, the cost of this contract if we sign him, just went
up." The silent man sitting beside him just shrugged. He was prepared to
pay.

The man, Dominic Orsini, was the current Chief Executive Officer or in
Europe; the Managing Director, of the family international cosmetics
empire; known simply as Orsini, worldwide, but only in the finest stores as
their most exclusive and costly brand. The company had many other brand
names all designed to appeal to less affluent markets as well as packaging
any of their products in thousands of other private labels for mass
merchandizers around the world including many of Orsini's direct
competitors.

Dominic Orsini's current project was to market a completely new line of
products specifically designed to appeal to teenage boys. The yet to be
named line, to be successful, demanded a teenage boy as its
spokesperson. The boy would not be a professional model nor would he be a
twenty something young man who appeared to be far younger on camera. Saul
Bergen first insisted that Dom review several hours of video and hundreds
of still candid photos all pertaining to one candidate in particular; Count
Dooby Dubois II. At an excellent lunch on Saturday, after a golf match,
Saul discovered that the title was bogus, an ongoing joke perpetrated by
his best buddy and school chum Cory Spelling. The entire prestigious prep
school the boys attended was aware that Dooby was a French Count; that is,
everyone but Dooby. Cory advised Saul in a whisper that Dooby's first name
was Harold but if called by that name, Dooby would end any further
discussions of any sort including mundane subjects such as the weather!

Dominic was inspired and impressed, so impressed, he called in his small
New York art department staff on Sunday and set them to work Photo Shopping
photos into proposed full color ads and existing bottles and tubes all
bearing a new brand name superimposed on a likeness of Dooby, clothed or
barely clothed, full body or just a smiling face, depending on the contents
of the container. As far as Dom was concerned, only one problem remained;
the fragrance, but he hoped his laboratories in Italy could come up with an
acceptable scent if given some time.

Personally, Dom agreed with young Dooby; he also considered most men's
fragrances to be too strong and overpoweringly effeminate; merely rebottled
women's colognes and perfumes, diluted, relabeled and marketed for use by
men. Dom even had a scent formulated for his personal use that included
citrus and cinnamon oils that was not unlike Dooby's bay rum.

"George," Saul called to his driver, "let's move. Those things, out here in
the country, are like pigeons or squirrels in the City, just follow the
damn driveway." George stopped again just before he began to climb the
steepest part of the drive that traversed the slope, the part that both
Cory and Dooby loved when either was behind the wheel of someone else's
Corvette. He pointed up before Saul could complain. The four men in the
back stared at Spelling's Tudor mansion that loomed above them on the top
of what appeared to be a mountain from a city-dweller's point of view.

As the drive neared the top of the hill, it curved back until it ended
suddenly in a round-about in the front of the beautiful home that
effectively hid the extraordinary view from so high up. There were two
unoccupied limos, a Corvette and SUV's already parked in the court.

The door opened as they approached. It was opened by one of the boys who
participated in the golf outing and had already been photographed several
times in sports attire but then he was dressed in a well-tailored black
suit, crisp white shirt and black tie. The photographer sputtered because
his hands were occupied with carrying one of Dom's boxes and couldn't use
his camera.

While Saul never forgot a face he was interested in, he also remembered
names to match the faces. "Good afternoon young man," he said as he offered
his hand, "we met Saturday. I'm Saul Bergen and I believe your name is
Alexander. It's good to see you again." Alex shook hands with Saul and was
introduced to Dominic. Saul watched Dom's reaction to the very handsome,
tall young man carefully and was pleased with what he saw. Alex was another
alternate if Dooby couldn't be signed.

Alex explained that the Spelling's didn't have much in the way of house
help so he and a few other guys had volunteered their services for the
Dooby inspired spontaneous dinner party as he led the men into the drawing
room. The men were surprised to discover that Alex was the butler as he
passed them on to their hosts; Laura and Charlie Spelling after snapping
his fingers, which produced three white coated footmen to relieve them of
their boxes, a bulging artist's portfolio and folded easel.

Saul's eyes kept drifting to the three young footmen as he hurriedly asked
and received permission from Charlie for his assistants to take pictures to
commemorate the evening. He remembered Darryl clearly because he could
easily be a stand-in for Prince Harry, with his curly red hair and peaches
and cream complexion, not to mention his very proper upper crust British
accent, but Stevie Rippy and Logan Dillon were new faces – extraordinary
new faces. Saul's art director was right when he said that they'd stumbled
onto a veritable nest of highly photogenic young men.

In short order, Saul and Dom met John and Betty DuBois, Dooby's parents;
Carl Bradley, his financial advisor; Carter Willingham, his attorney; Tom
Paterson, one of his business advisors who was also his cousin as well as
the CEO of Spelling's Markets and Justa Pizza; and last, Auggie Bligh,
Chairman of Bligh Media Group and Ryan Bronson, CEO of both the Media Group
and Bligh Communications who was shadowed by Zeek. Charlie and Auggie both
had Dooby and Cory under contract and were also two more of his business
advisers and had a vital interest in Dooby's future.

After introductions, Saul and Dom were overwhelmed by the number and
business statures of Dooby's advisors and looked it. Charlie tried to
reassure them, "Dooby asked all of us to be here tonight because while
great things are happening to him and Cory, he's worried that they may be
happening too fast. He knows he's impulsive and might accept whatever
you're offering without thinking things through. He and Cory have their
futures planned through college and he doesn't want to jeopardize their
plans for a higher education only to wake up one morning just a few years
later, to realize that he's not a successful teenager with several very
popular television shows any longer and has nothing to really fall back
on. At this early stage of their lives the boys do not want to make any
mistakes."

John spoke up, "There's something else Dooby asked me to tell you before
the boys get home, which could end any further business talks before they
begin. The boys are gay. They consider themselves to be life partners for
better or worse and you won't just sign up Dooby for your venture; you sign
both boys or there's no deal."

Saul sank back in the sofa cushions and closed his eyes while he drained
his glass of Scotch. He was afraid to look at Dominic to gage his reaction
to this bombshell bit of news, something he hadn't considered and should
have. He didn't see Dominic shrug his shoulders but heard his reaction
clearly; "As you Americans say, `shit happens'," he looked at Laura, "if
you will pardon the expression." After Laura nodded, he continued, "My
oldest son, who is now eighteen and enjoying his first year at University,
announced when he was just fourteen, that he was gay as he asked me to pass
the toast one morning at breakfast. What is a father to do with that
revelation? I passed my son the toast. I do not believe anyone's sexual
orientation or private escapades are anyone else's business and Dooby and
Cory's should have no adverse effect on my products or business. After
watching them on video for several hours I find them humorous and
effervescent, a wonderful change of pace."

"Effervescent," Tom quipped, "here in America we think of Dooby as being
super-hyperactive, but in a nice way."

Everyone looked startled as the heavy front door crashed open. "Hi Lurch!"
Dooby exclaimed. "What are you doing here? Did someone die? How come you're
all dressed to kill? Where is everyone?"

"Goddamnit Dooby," Alex shouted, "lay off the threads, you'll get me all
wrinkled. I'm the butler tonight and everyone is in the drawing room
waiting for you, asshole."

"Drawing room," Dooby asked, "I thought I've been in all the rooms in this
barn but I must have missed one. Where's the drawing room Sprout?"

The group in the drawing room couldn't see Cory roll his eyes but heard his
answer, "I think that would be the living room, or to you, Charlie's
furniture store."

"Right, hurry up before the snacks are all gone." Dooby encouraged Cory as
he pulled him down the hall by the arm accompanied by the clomping sound of
growing feet in gym shoes.

"WE'RE HOME!" Dooby announced as the partners burst through the doorway
with silent Christian following but grinning at Dooby's unpredictable
antics, as usual.

Saul noted that all three boys wore red school warm up suits. Two had their
last names emblazoned on the backs of their hoodie's while one announced
that the wearer was `DOOBY'. He also saw that the school crest was
embroidered on the front of one side and the classic Nike boomerang
occupied the other. Apparently the school they attended didn't stint when
buying sportswear for their athletic teams. He couldn't help composing a
sixty second Nike ad using Dooby and his friends wearing the same warm up
suits in a broad assortment of colors.

One of the French doors opened suddenly and Saul's two men struggled to get
inside at the same time while they looked over their shoulders. "What's
wrong with you two guys?" Saul asked sourly. They were interrupting Dom's
introduction to Dooby and he guessed Cory as well.

"There's a flock of those deer coming up the mountain and they're all
staring at us like, you know, like they're hungry."

Dooby looked at his watch, "Right on time, that must be Rudy and his four
girlfriends," he explained. "Rudy is the herd advance scout. He's coming to
see if there's feed in the trough. If there is, he and the girls wave to
the rest of the herd with their tails while they pig out. Come on, you guys
can help, just don't make any sudden moves to scare them at first until
they get used to you." With that, Dooby ran out the door with Cory,
Christian, the footmen, Alexander the butler and Saul's men following from
a safe distance.

Those who remained inside crowded the French doors to watch. The boys were
nowhere to be seen but five deer, one with short antlers that branched near
the tips stood near three black plastic troughs placed just off the
flagstone terrace. All five animals had their heads turned in the same
direction, off to the side.

"There's a small garden shed over there under the pine trees," Charlie
explained, "that's where Dooby keeps the feed. We always fed the deer in
the winter to keep them from eating the garden and all the bushes around
the house. We fed them, just not here in front of the house; there's a pole
barn across the river that's full of hay. That's where they still eat hay
but Dooby wanted to watch them, so he got the gardeners to move the feed
and the feeders to where you see them."

When Dooby and his helpers reappeared, each of them carried a sack of
food. He directed the others to empty their sacks in the troughs while he
opened his in two buckets. The deer watched Dooby intently ignoring the
feeders, and met him halfway across the terrace. He put one bucket down,
which the `girlfriends' apparently knew to be theirs, while he began hand
feeding Rudy. Everyone could hear Dooby say something repeatedly to Saul's
men but couldn't understand him until someone opened one of the doors.

"Are you guys chicken shits? Get over here. No, I'm sure those are not
raisins, we just call that deer shit out here in the country. Rudy won't
hurt you unless you try humping one of his harem. And you, photographer
guy, you could actually take some pictures you know."

"My thoughts exactly," Saul mumbled.

"Sombitch," Auggie rumbled, "Dooby boys' got pet fish down to Coral Place
and now deer up here. Don't that beat all?"

"Pet fish?" Dom wondered.

"Yup, we brought along this week's show if y'all care to see it after
supper. The old guys I bought Coral Place from fed the same fish only they
used hooks an' fishin' poles an' then always put `em back if the fish
didn't just steal the bait outright. Dooby boy took over after them old
boys passed. To speed things up one mornin' he an' some of his gang, check
that', it was him an' the two I brought with me, put on scuba and just
started feedin' `em by hand.  But the one's they was feedin' weren't no
liver-lipped goldfish, they was all real toothsome types. You'll see fo'
yo' ownselves if there's time."

Dooby looked back at the doors to get everyone's attention and pointed back
down the hill. They were amazed to see the entire herd ambling up with the
three many pointed buck in the lead. They surrounded the three feeders and
began to eat while ignoring all the humans standing nearby.

As soon as the gang returned inside, Laura pointed to the hall doors,
"Don't stop, keep right on going upstairs, clean up and change," she
demanded, "Alexander, just look at your suit," she scolded.

"But, but Granny..." Dooby began to sputter as he attempted to brush corn
meal flour off one of his two dirty shoulders. Calling Laura, Granny was
fun for one and very annoying to the other.

"Dooby, I swear, if you call me Granny once more; the next picture taken of
your pretty face will show that you have a black and swollen eye! Now scat,
all of you!"

"You could just hit him in the balls," Betty, Dooby's mother suggested
helpfully, "that always seems to work for Jennifer."

Dooby screeched to a halt at the door. "Hey, that's right, where is my baby
sister anyway?" His evil grin indicated that he'd already guessed; Jennifer
had won the hard fought; `if he can, then so can I', argument and their
father had given up trying to keep the young lovers separated without eyes
in the back of his head. Lane was `babysitting' Jennifer, no doubt doing
`homework' together. Dooby's giggles and laughter could be heard over his
clomping feet as he climbed the stairs skipping two steps at a time as he
raced to catch up to the other boys.

"You forgot something Laura, a time limit," Betty advised as she walked to
the doorway to shout; "and if we think you're talking too long, Laura and I
will be up there with a video camera to find out why!"

The boys returned within twenty minutes but any pretense of four being
servants was gone; all of them were wearing shorts and tee shirts. Alex and
Stevie wore clothes borrowed from Dooby while Christian recovered some of
his that Dooby felt free to `borrow' whenever he and Cory visited at
Dooby's cousin, Tom's home. Logan wore Cory's clothes to perfection anyone
interested, noticed.

Surprisingly to the guests, all the boys worked together briefly to serve
and then found seats waiting for them at the long table and participated in
the dinner conversation while they shot one line comments at each other and
a few at their elder's, which then required some explanation and even more
laughter resulted.

With dinner concluded and the table cleared, Charlie and Laura led their
guests to the library, which had become the theater in a short period of
time. The boys served coffee and brandy and somehow longneck beers for
themselves as they took seats on the carpet closest to the screen. Stevie
inserted the DVD and when everyone was comfortable, started the show.

Saul and Dominic sat together on the sofa so they had front row seats and
while the men started out leaning back comfortably, first Dom and then Saul
began to lean forward after Dooby had the whole mob lined up on the dock
wearing their Tarzan suits.

"Holy shit," the art director mumbled, "we may never have to go male model
shopping for the next ten years."

"How's that there contest goin' Ryan boy?" Auggie asked.

"Over four million hits on the website so far. I haven't checked the eight
hundred number results yet."

Dooby sat up to look over the coffee table. "Four million; how'd that
happen? This show hasn't aired yet, so the contest hasn't started."

"Yes it has Doob, remember the teaser from the last show?" Cory reminded
Dooby.

Ryan added, "We've been running that teaser on all our other channels too,
so this little contest is well underway, your website is one hot address
right now."

"Is four million a lot?" Dooby asked.

"Yes siree Bobby," Auggie chortled, "What's the ratio of females to males?"

"Three to one."

Dom looked startled, "Do you mean to say that you already have over four
million names, addresses and email addresses from interested viewers before
this contest begins officially on this upcoming show? Does Orsini advertise
with you?"

Auggie looked to Ryan for an answer. Ryan shrugged, "Not with our stations
under that name, but perhaps one of your subsidiaries?"

"I would hope more than one, but if they do not, and we are missing such a
substantial American market share, I will endeavor to discover why not. I
may be in need of a new US advertising agency," Dom announced through
gritted teeth.

"Stop the show!" Dooby ordered as he bounced to his feet.

Stevie rolled his eyes, "It's been stopped for five minutes Doob. Did you
forget to take your meds again?" he joked.

Dooby ignored Stevie while he climbed the coffee table and pulled Dom to
his feet. "Come on over here and check these prints out." He flipped a wall
switch and Charlie's four prints of the boys were highlighted. "Pretty good
aren't they? The artist just happens to own a brand new ad agency and
already has Spelling's Markets and Justa Pizza as clients. Gramps can tell
you that business has improved already. Did you notice any Justa Pizza
billboards on the way out here, or maybe some for Spelling's? And
billboards aren't all; he's got us in all media across the parts of the
country where Spelling's are located and of course Justa Pizza is already
national. If you want to sell your stuff in America, you should talk to
him." Dooby paused to inhale.

Dom raised his hand to stop Dooby before he could continue. "I did see
those billboards and since I enjoy cooking, I shop at Spellings. I've
noticed many favorable improvements." He put a hand to the side of his
mouth and whispered, "I even use coupons I cut from the weekly circular
when I am here in America. I've also had pizza from Justa Pizza but I have
yet to try a toasted submarine sandwich. I would very much like to meet
this very creative gentleman if you could introduce me sometime."

Dooby looked back and down at the carpet. He frowned until he saw a pair of
gym shoes sticking out from under the coffee table. He went into his mother
DuBois mode by placing his hands on his hips and tapping his foot to start
with before kicking at Christian's feet and legs, "You just come out of
there right now Christian Dunn. I know all your hiding places!" he
demanded, imitating his mother closely enough to get his parents laughing.

"Ouch! Goddamn it Dooby that was my shin; that hurt!" Christian said by way
of warning as he quickly emerged from hiding, got to his feet and was ready
to jump Dooby until Dooby got behind Dom for protection.

"Well, when I tell you to do something, you do it! And if you swear once
more, you know where your bar of soap is; it's the one with your teeth
marks on it."

Betty DuBois jumped to her feet. "We have never washed your mouth out with
soap, Dooby Dubois," she protested to the room, "only threatened so far,"
she warned, but couldn't quite stop laughing.

Dooby waved to his mother with a loving smile before he bowed to Dom,
"Dominic Orsini, I would like you to meet Christian Dunn," he pointed out
Christian's bold signature on one of the prints, "of Dunn and Paterson,
Advertising."

"DOOBY!" Betty exploded when the fish feeding scene began, "Do you ever use
your head for anything? What possessed you to hand feed those monsters?
What if one attacked you or your friends? How did you ever talk those boys
into doing that with you? Is that you Cory?"

"Aw Mom," Dooby complained, "It didn't seem dangerous at the time. I didn't
think things through, that's all."

"Yonder sets the other two rock heads that was with him. The smaller one
ain't Cory boy, yo' can tell by, ah, the color of their eyes, ah, sort of,"
Auggie finished lamely and wished he hadn't opened his mouth.

"Yeah, right," Cory mumbled, "not quite the same, but almost." He rolled to
his gut and buried his face in a pillow so he appeared to being crying with
his shoulders quaking.

Logan spoiled that by whispering too loudly; "Cory boy, if y'all don't stop
laughin', I'm fixin' to tie your damn eye in a knot." He'd been around
Auggie long enough so that he could imitate his employer exactly and knew
he was out of range of Auggie's cane.

 "Here comes the disclaimer I recorded Mom, so cool it. I tried to do it at
Coral Place but there were too many interruptions so I actually did it here
in the studio." Dooby advised. His voice-over began when the professional
divers joined the three boys and began sharing air and, fascinated, also
began feeding the toothy fish; "As you can see feeding these fish by hand
was really dumb..."

"Really dumb," some male voice agreed.

"Stupid," another voice intoned.

"A bone headed move, definitely,"

"Another Yankee rock head."

"Guys, please, this is serious, I nearly got fired for feeding these
(bleep)ers. Cut that out Johnny, let's start over after these (bleep)holes
GET OUT OF HERE!" Dooby screamed. A door slammed.

As soon as Dooby tried to start at the beginning, the same voices were
heard, again, in the background. Johnny-Be-Good, the soundman never stopped
the recording as Dooby instructed. Dooby finally screamed for Auggie who
was heard blustering orders and demanding that someone bring him his
cane. When apparently no one did, he called in reinforcements; Mattie, with
her feared corn broom. Since two of Dooby's agitators were James and Little
Zeek, her sons, she restored order amid screams and laughter.

After more starts and stops by interruptions, Dooby finally concluded his,
`never try this at home,' voice-over with; "Okay, that's a wrap for now
Johnny. We'll probably have to do this over again in the studio when we get
home. You know this is a waste of time, I never heard of anyone who keeps a
six foot barracuda, a thirty pound grouper and a school of big jacks in
their home aquarium anyway. Hey, while it's so quiet finally, want to help
me feed them? Maybe Gary Grouper will let me pet him again. We'll have to
wear board shorts though; Auggie was right about some things looking like
bait."

"AGAIN!" Auggie roared, "PET HIM AGAIN?" Ryan had been trying not to laugh
and jumped from his chair to get out of Auggie's reach but didn't make
it. Auggie held his wrist in an iron grip. "An' yo' Ryan boy got some big
time explainin' to do. That there segment is NOT the one we approved. How'd
that happen?"

"Well, that voice-over was bland, it wasn't funny, and it didn't fit in
with the rest of the show. Scott had me listen to this. It works so..."

Auggie moved his eyes to the floor but Dooby, Stevie and Logan had almost
disappeared and the space under the coffee table was filled to capacity. "I
get the feelin' that more boys than Johnny-Be-Good was in on this,
evidenced by who's hidin' under yonder table. Did anyone think to get more
footage?"

Ryan nodded cautiously, "Yup, lots more."

Auggie asked, little boy hopeful, "Now that I can use scuba, think that
they'd let me try feedin' `em?"

Laura giggled, "Excuse me Auggie, but I think you're just as bad as the
boys when it comes to mischief."

Auggie shrugged, "Well, I admit my experience in dealin' with youngsters is
somewhat limited, but one thing I have learned is; if yo' can't beat `em,
yo' best join `em."

The show ended with the credits scrolling up the screen and lots of smiles
and congratulations. "That was a great show," John DuBois stated, "my sides
hurt from laughing, but what about all the nudity? Won't you get in trouble
with the censors?"

"Nope, this here runs on a channel for adults an' sneaky kids like these
here boys, late night, we run disclaimers about nudity all the time but
there ain't no touchy-feely or never any hanky-panky business goin' on in
front of no cameras. The boys know better. Besides they all be havin' too
much fun. Besides which you didn't see anything as belonged to the boys."

"I'm sorry Auggie, but as his mother, I know what Dooby's cute little
bubble butt looks like; that and um, other things." Betty argued.

"Why thank you Mother, that was very kind." Everyone looked to see that
Dooby had emerged from hiding and was ensconced on the sofa, sitting safely
between Dom and Saul.

Auggie giggled, "Yo' jus' thought that was Dooby, didn't yo' see the list
of stand-ins an' stunt doubles, in the credits?"

Betty shook her head, "No one could read those credits they were moving too
fast."

"Persackely," Auggie chortled, "your little boys' virtues was safe hidin'
behind the cameras the whole live-long time." He rubbed his hands together
after a glance at his watch. "Now wha'cha got to show Dooby boy, Dom, it's
gettin' past these boys' bedtime." He flashed a radiant smile at Alex as
Alex placed a refilled double old fashion glass in his hand, unasked. "Why
thankee kindly Alex boy, I may need a new step-n-fetch-it boy soon; I'll
just keep yo' in mind." He saw Logan frown and Stevie grin at hearing his
comment so he went a step further. "In fact if yo' can run a `puter and
work one o' them damn remote things, I believe I could combine two jobs,"
he added with an evil grin and one eyebrow at full arch. His addendum
effectively erased Stevie's grin while Alex's blossomed into a giggle.

Dom began his presentation. "Before I arrived here, I was fixated with
having Dooby alone as the sole representative of my new product line. I
planned to have him visit every country in which Orsini does business to
promote the line personally." He saw Dooby's pleased grin turn into a
frown. "That's right Dooby, my plan would never work. That much traveling
would take you away from school, sports, and your friends as well as prior
contractual business commitments." Dooby brightened again.

Dom continued, "I would still like to use your name on every product and
your image on the Orsini line but I would use an assortment of these other
boys' images along with yours on the more popular, more widely available,
more economical lines; I think many of the teens in your Tarzan contest."
He looked at the young faces staring back at him while he removed the cover
board from the first of several foam-board mounted, full page, four color,
magazine ads.

Dooby frowned again while it was Cory's turn to seek the shelter of the
handy coffee table. "Count Dooby?" Dooby wondered, "I've heard that name
before, like at school; whispered, or more clearly behind my back, like in
the halls, the locker room and I think Saturday, from guys in the gallery."
He looked around the room, "What's that all about anyway?"

"Saul, I told you about that confidentially," the coffee table accused and
giggled.

Dooby fished under the table with one hand and pulled on Cory's arm until
he was sitting on the sofa while Dooby held him there easily in a
wristlock. "I think I've been punked somehow. Does anyone care to explain?"
He asked sweetly as he increased pressure on Cory's wrist.

Cory explained between fits of giggles and the general laughter in the room
increased with Dooby's. "Oh man," Dooby exclaimed, "this is so good. You
know our first day; I was in the locker room and introducing myself around
to the guys? I thought some of them were going to kiss my hand! Of course I
would never allow that to happen before our first date," he assured primly,
"I was beginning to think the whole Lacrosse team was gay and I was fresh
meat. Even the coach was giving me the eye!" He looked at Dom who was
waiting patiently by the easel, "I guess Count Dooby for a name is okay and
everyone can see what a hot stud I am in that picture."

The photo in question was Dooby taken on Saturday standing on the picnic
table bench but the bench and table had been removed. The fall colored
trees and the blue sky remained in the background. The photo was taken as
Dooby put four fingers of one hand in his pants pocket, which held the
chamois jacket back to further expose his prominent package in
three-quarter profile.

"Where would you run that ad?" Christian asked.

"I was thinking of GQ and others of that caliber here in America. Do you
foresee a problem with GQ?" Dom returned.

"What's GQ?" Dooby asked.

"That's the problem. Teenage guys don't buy that magazine, if many know it
exists. The majority can't afford two thousand dollar suits or hundred
dollar neck ties. How much is that little bottle of Count Dooby cologne?"
Christian didn't wait for an answer, "And your copy appeals to guys who can
afford the stuff, not teenage guys. I'm sorry but I don't think that there
are too many young men out there who read GQ and can afford Count Dooby who
are going to buy it for themselves." He hesitated, "If I was selling Count
Dooby, I'd put that ad where it would pull, I'd go into magazines like
Seventeen or others that are for girls and young women or any women who buy
gifts for birthdays and holidays or any special occasion."

Dooby agreed, "Yup, that's where I got all the stuff from on my bathroom
shelf. They were all gifts. Even the bay rum that I like and use was a
gift; last year from Mom at Christmas, I think." Betty nodded and Dooby
went on, "If you have a cheaper product that you really want to sell, you
should advertise in all the little teeny bopper rags that Jennifer buys all
the time. If you put a nice body showing skin and a good looking face,
she'd buy it for Lane in a heartbeat." He giggled as he had an additional
thought. "You know what? If you put a picture of Christian or Cory showing
lots of skin on a box or bottle, I bet she'd start another collection, just
like she collects those dolls at what, eighty bucks a pop? She used to play
with them but now she doesn't even take them out of the boxes. Her room
looks like some kind of weird baby hatchery."

"Please don't go there Dooby," John DuBois begged.

"Sorry Dad, I wasn't thinking. Anyway, get the idea? You could even attach
a coupon to send for a poster to rake in even more money." Dooby didn't
realize that he was doing his Dooby dance from a sitting position as he
allowed his imagination to roam at his sister's expense. "I just have one
question," he concluded, "What's GQ?"

Dom began passing out assorted size boxes that contained actual products
while Gramps Carl, something of a clothes horse, explained Gentlemen's
Quarterly to Dooby. "Are these the packages you envision?" He asked
Dooby. "These models are from Saul's catalog, I used them because the image
is appropriate to denote the purpose of the contents such as shampoo, body
wash, after shower moisturizer, deodorant, shave gel, sun screen and so
on. If you boys agree, I hope your images and others in that show would
replace these."

Dooby just had to open a box that contained after shower moisturizer; the
handsome young athletic model was shown wet and holding a towel in front of
his junk. It was obvious the guy was naked but the towel just hid the
important parts. First, Dooby squinted inside the box perhaps to see if
there was a rear view. Clearly disappointed, he looked at the large pump
bottle and frowned.

Cory giggled into Dooby's ear and whispered, "You hound, first you expected
to see the dude's ass inside the box, and just now, the picture on the
bottle, you were thinking he should be walking toward his towel."

Cory thought he would be tickled at the very least, instead Dooby kissed
him on the cheek in front of their parents and proposed exactly what he
thought and Cory suggested.

It was Dom's turn to frown, "We may have reached the point where we are
selling the package instead of the contents. I don't think a picture inside
the box would be useful but we might test market a different image on the
actual container if one or two of you wouldn't mind a nude photo for the
test?" When he received only smiles in return for his proposal, he wondered
if he should be concerned or pleased.

The combination dinner party, laugh fest and business meeting ended at ten
o'clock. Dom left Saul the responsibility of working out contracts,
parental or guardian waivers and any other documents required for boys
under age eighteen necessary so the boys could join his exclusive stable of
models. The gang present made a list that totaled thirteen Count Dobby
models; Dobby of course, Cory, Christian, Zack, Billy, Darryl, Alex,
Stevie, Logan, Trasker, Zeek (the younger), hopefully Lane and Carl Bends
since he was sixteen. Kurt with a `K', David and Alan couldn't be included
as yet because of pending legalities regarding Carl's guardianship and
while they each had future potential they were too young.

As Dom was about to climb in Saul's car, he assured Dooby and Cory; "I
think by this time next year, all of you young men will be millionaires."

Dooby didn't react to the news as expected, instead, he shrugged. "Most of
us already are and if we didn't think that this would be fun to do, you
wouldn't be here talking now." He giggled suddenly, "But who are we to
refuse a bit more income AND free cosmetics for life?"

John DuBois asked Dooby to call home to warn Jennifer and Lane that they
were on the way and then they would call again before they pulled into the
driveway so that the two young lovers would be properly dressed. "Yup, we
planned to Dad; we need to get Lane in on this deal. You heard what Dom
said about money; we can't have a poor boy as our in-law can we?"

The phone rang once before Jennifer answered. "Don't tell me you and Lane
had a fight?" Dooby asked as his opening gambit. "I expected to leave a
voicemail."

"Hello to you too Dooby; for your information my sweetie is taking a short
nap. Are you calling to tell us that Mom and Daddy are on the way home?"

"Yes, that's one thing, they just left so the way Dad drives; you have
about forty-five minutes. Wake Sweetie up. Cory's here with me, put us on
speaker so you both can hear us.

The boys heard Jennifer trying to wake Lane by just telling him to wake
up. After a pause, they heard Lane scream, "Damn it Jennifer that hurt. Are
you trying to twist Little Lane off?"

"Little Lane?" Dooby asked as he and Cory both laughed through the phone
speaker.

"Dooby, where are you?" Lane was obviously sleep befuddled.

"He and Cory are on the phone, dopy, and they want to talk to us, that's
why I had to use emergency measures to wake you." Jennifer advised.

"Mission accomplished," Lane moaned.

"Okay he's awake and we're both listening; what do you want at this late
hour?"

"Have you ever heard of a perfume called Orsini?" Dooby began.

"Of course every woman has. A teeny little bottle costs like a hundred
dollars. Fortunately they also have a cologne that's a bit less
expensive. Orsini beauty products are only sold in better stores and
department stores."

"Cool it Jennifer, Dominic Orsini just told us the same thing. He's why Mom
and Dad came over here to meet with him. When Mom gets home, she has a box
of Orsini products including a half liter bottle of the perfume. Now here's
the deal..."

After Dooby and Cory got through explaining, they waited to hear Lane's
decision. "You want me to pose butt naked for pictures that are going to be
pasted on stuff for the whole world to see? I don't know, even my parents,
my whole family would see me."

Jennifer laughed, "Yes, and all my girlfriends, they'll be so jealous; I
can't wait to see them staring at you. Just remember that everyone's
already seen you wearing Dooby's little bathing suit on national television
so that they know Little Lane isn't so little, even sleeping."

"Yeah, I guess, but why would this guy pay us so much money? I could use
the money though to support you better than on just a carpenter's salary
and maybe your dad would let me buy into the business. Do you think he
would Dooby?"

"I know he would. He told me you have better hands than me or Artie and if
you stick around working for him, he'll make you into a cabinetmaker. Then
you guys could start building houses two at a time and the company would
earn twice as much money. When I get out of school and join you we'll have
a real family business."

"Okay Dooby, I'm sold. Sign me up or whatever I have to do. When do we
start?" Lane asked enthusiastically.

##########

At ten o'clock on Monday morning, Mattie was in the Coral Place kitchen
baking cookies and squeezing oranges. Demand for cookies and fresh orange
juice was unending. Auggie, with Zeek and Stevie, his `button pushin' geek'
and Logan, of course, as his `step `n fetch-it boy', had flown up to Yankee
land in response to a call from Dooby boy asking for Auggie's
advice. Trasker, James and Little Zeek were at the house located quite
close to Coral Place where the boys' tutors lived and where classes were
held. While Trasker had graduated high school, he was avidly brushing up on
subjects because he was about to begin college in January. Little Zeek and
James were exploring the wonders of higher math with the boy's math and
science tutor, although neither found Advanced Calculus as wonderful as
advertised.

When the phone buzzed to announce someone was at the gate, Mattie jumped
and hurried to wash and dry her sticky hands before she answered the
phone. "Yes?" she said carefully with no trace of southern Georgia
plantation dialect in her voice, that she referred to as `mush mouth' and
had forbidden her sons to speak within her hearing.

"Mattie, that yo' girl?" Thirsty asked tentatively.

"Thirsty, what yo' doin' playin' wid de gate? Yo' an' Argyle supposed to be
deliverin' goods not drinkin' `em. How many women yo' know as lives here?
What yo' want, I busy." Mush mouth was the only language Thirsty and Argyle
understood if shouted by a robust young black woman who was far bigger than
either of them.

"Mattie girl, I tryin' to tell yo' there a man here who's wantin' to get
in, ifin' I could get a word in edgewise."

"He wantin' to see de house, ain't goin' to happen. If he sellin', I ain't
buyin'. Tell `im to scat, yo' make me come out dere, yo best be t'other
side o' dat dere gate an' long gone more'in somewhat!" Mattie warned.

With the deaths of Harold Hollingsworth and George Wilson, the news that
they funded a mega foundation to protect the flora and fauna of the Florida
Keys, both on land and underwater also included the fact that their former
home was designed and built by Frank Lloyd Wright. This factoid was
beginning to draw unwanted attention to Coral Place by historians, students
of design and related fields as well as tourists who just wanted to tour a
Wright house while vacationing in the Keys.

Traffic by land was controlled by the gate and a large sign with red
capital letters; PRIVATE RESIDENCE – NO TRESPASSING, but on the water,
by boat, was another matter. Auggie had the property surveyed and was
pleased to discover that he owned hundreds of underwater acres. He had
Jim-Bob post the watery property lines with cylindrical buoys and hire a
squad of off duty sheriff's deputies from the marine patrol
division. Jim-Bob bought four used boats that were `hardtops' and powered
by dual engines that he had signed with the word; SECURITY in eighteen inch
letters and equipped with both flashing and spotlights and frightening
loudhailers. These were always crewed by two or three obviously armed
security officers who flocked to Jim-Bob when they found that the new owner
of Coral Place was offering three times the county rate of pay and all
possible benefits. But still Coral Place had occasional unwanted visitors.

"Damn girl yo' gettin' too uppity, the man ain't sellin', or lookin', he
got a package that needs to be signed for."

"Dat all, why yo' don't let the man at the squawk box his own self? Yo' get
on down de road an' let the man in. Oh, an' tonight at supper we haven'
fried chicken, yo' two rock heads goin' to eat yours, bones an' all. That
for callin' me uppity!"

"Damn Mattie," previously silent Argyle protested from a distance, "I
didn't say nary a word!"

Mattie slammed the phone down so they knew she disconnected. Packages
delivered by FedEx, UPS or by private courier were a regular
occurrence. They were important papers that couldn't be faxed or emailed to
Auggie, Ryan or Carter and just as frequently there were packages to be
picked up.

Mattie waited impatiently for the delivery; she still wanted to make two
more gallons of juice. When the doorbell rang, she picked up a pen and was
ten feet from the screen door before she froze in mid-step. "James," she
whispered.

"Hello Matilda, I've found you at last." James replied. He was nearly
breathless from seeing his very young, very pretty part-time housekeeper
from seventeen years ago who had grown into a strikingly beautiful young
woman.

"James, what are you doing here?"

James waved a small oblong box, "Checks, someone opened a checking account
for you. But we don't have your signature card. Your name is Matilda
Redland and the address is Redlands Plantation. That was the one place I
failed to look for you after you disappeared. I always look at new
accounts, I saw your name and I wondered. You never gave me your last name;
I didn't need it because I paid you in cash. May I come in so we can talk?"
he asked suddenly. After he was seated at the kitchen table he continued,
"It was the slimmest of leads, but I drove out to Redlands, I had no idea
where to find you there. But then I remembered that Mr. Bligh's and Trasker
Bligh's address were the same, with no house number while all the other
Redlands customers have house numbers and street addresses, so I tried the
big house first.

"I discovered that you are the Redlands housekeeper but that you were with
Mr. Bligh down here at his winter home. I'd gone that far, so I flew down
here. I just had to find you because we have some unfinished business from
all those years ago." James hesitated and looked around, "Are we alone?"
Mattie nodded. "Who was that woman giving those two men at the gate all
kinds of hell?"

Mattie laughed and slapped James on the back. "That was me. I speak mush
mouth to them because it's the only language they understand. They are two
of Auggie's first cousins who managed to burn up over a hundred acres of
Redlands timber when their still blew up. They're down here so we can keep
an eye on them."

"Would you really make them eat the chicken bones?" James asked and then
giggled, Mattie thought delightfully.

"No, it won't be necessary. They won't be back until after dark. They'll
sneak off to bed, they'll think unnoticed but you wouldn't believe how much
noise those two drunks can make." Mattie turned serious, "Now tell me just
what unfinished business we have; there's none that I'm aware of."

"Well, that last Saturday, the one when you didn't show up, I'd planned to
cook dinner for us and just after dinner, over a glass of wine, I was going
to ask you to marry me." James said softly, took Mattie's hand and slipped
a diamond engagement ring on her finger, "So that's today's business and my
current plan. Matilda, I love you very much. Will you become my wife?"

"Oh James, I was afraid you were going to ask that question that Saturday,
one of the reasons I went into hiding. I loved you desperately and if we
got married I'd destroy your business. You'd lose all your white customers
and need I mention the Klan? They might have burned down your house or even
killed you. Besides we both know that you can't cook; dinner would have
been a disaster."

"Matilda please, I was aware of potential problems locally. I was going to
sell the bank, I still get offers all the time. Our little community is too
small to support two banks so the big ones want to buy me out. I own
several other businesses, we could have moved further north, even if only
as far as Atlanta where mixed marriages are more accepted. Picture a big
new house and a family; we would have a wonderful life. I know you have two
sons, I'll adopt them if possible if that's what you want."

Mattie placed a finger over James' lips to stop his pleas. "Did you happen
to notice my son's names?" James looked blank.

My youngest is Ezekiel or Zeek after my brother Zeek who accompanies Auggie
wherever he goes. I named my eldest son after his father. He is the second
reason I disappeared into Redlands; I wanted to keep him safe where having
a white father doesn't matter all that much.

James' eyes widened just as there was some shouts and laughing from outside
on the driveway. The boys were racing their bikes, returning home for
lunch. Mattie glanced at the clock. "Oh dear, well my dearest husband to
be, get ready to meet our son, James Junior," Mattie barely had time to
warn before the screen door banged.

There was one other thing she forgot; the boys only wore shorts, weather
permitting, when they went off the property and as soon as they parked
their bikes, they left their shorts on the handlebars. The three boys
screeched to a halt as they entered the kitchen, they all stared at the
visitor first, and then Trasker and Little Zeek's eyes shifted from Senior
to Junior.

"Come on Zeek, let's go wash our hands," Trasker urged and snatched six
cookies that were still on cooling racks near the door

Zeek agreed with a nod and a grin directed at his mother. "Will you call us
when lunch is ready?" he asked as Trasker pushed him into the dining room
with open laughter.

"Light the grill please," Mattie called, "we're having hotdogs, baked beans
and potato salad!"

"My favorite!" Zeek answered.

"Everything editable is Zeek's favorite," Mattie assured James nervously.

"I heard that Mother!" echoed back.

"Why did you abandon us?" Junior asked, "You bastard, I've looked for you
ever since Mother told me my father is white! Were you embarrassed to have
a son who is only, what, ninety percent white?" Young James spit out before
his mother could stop him or explain.

Mattie screamed, "JAMES, STOP IT THIS INSTANT! YOUR FATHER HAS BEEN LOOKING
FOR ME ALL THESE YEARS. HE DIDN'T KNOW ABOUT YOU UNTIL JUST MINUTES AGO!"
She calmed down when young James began blinking tears. She continued, "I
was so terribly young, we just discovered that we were in love. I got
pregnant and was afraid so I ran back to Redlands. I told you your father
was a redneck boy but that was a lie. I always knew where he lived and
where he worked. Every time I took you to town, I prayed that he wouldn't
be on the street, you look so much alike, you would have recognized him
instantly, like you did just now. He only found me and you because you
opened a checking account for me at his bank; your last name is Chambers
just like Chambers State Bank."

"I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions," James said and offered his hand.

Ten minutes later, the three were sitting at the table talking when someone
close by cleared their throat. "Um, I hate to interrupt, but there's still
the matter of lunch," Zeek suggested as he loomed over James Senior and his
mother.

"Lord have mercy! I forgot about my poor little baby with all that's
happened so quickly." Mattie said as she jumped up and scooted to the
refrigerator. "Oh," she added, "Zeek, meet your new stepfather and James'
real father, James Chambers, and James, this is Trasker Bligh."

James stood and offered his hand but Zeek ignored it and gave him a hug,
the fact that he was naked and James was dressed, didn't seem to matter at
all, "I'm sorry about that but I always wanted a father to hug. May I call
you Dad?" Because of his size, everyone tended to think of Zeek as being
much older.

"Yes, of course, I'd love that. You know I picture you as a football
player," James observed after Zeek allowed him to stand on his own two feet
once again.

"With two James' in the family this is going to be confusing," Trasker
observed as he shook hands with Senior.

Senior laughed, "Actually Matilda is the only one who ever called me James,
everyone else calls me Jimmy or some customers at the bank call me more
derogatory names depending on how late their loan payments are."

"You have a good reputation, locally, for being very fair." Trasker stated.

"I try to be, but there are always one or two." Jimmy laughed, "I have one
who was ten months behind. I lost patience, sent him a final notice
threatening foreclosure, and he showed up the next day asking for a loan to
pay a bankruptcy attorney. Anyway, there's a thousand acre farm that I
think adjoins Redlands for sale if your uncle is interested."

"Consider it sold," Trasker declared instantly. "I'd appreciate it if you'd
let us know about any land around us that comes on the market. We think the
real estate boom is going to go bust in the near future and there's going
to be a lot of perfectly good farm land that's been chopped up with roads
that will be growing weeds instead of crops or certainly over-priced houses
for years." Trasker looked across the table to see that Zeek was just
finishing his third `belly buster' hotdog (a quarter pound dog) while
grinning at his new stepfather between bites. "If you can stay down here
awhile Jimmy, I'd like you to meet Uncle Auggie. We should sit down and
talk. Meanwhile, this afternoon, how about us taking Fishin' Boy out to
show you around? I'll drive and y'all can talk, catch up or whatever, that
is if Zeek gets done with lunch in time for supper."

Zeek paused to scratch his nose with a middle finger, which drew a
threatening frown from Mattie and laughter from Jimmy. "You know being a
father to a pair of teenage boys is going to be fun!" He exclaimed, then
added, "And so we don't have to rush back, how about if we go out somewhere
for dinner afterward so your mom won't have to cook?"

"We'll bring clothes so we can stop Fishin' Boy at that seafood place
that's right on the water," James looked hopeful. "Do you like seafood," he
hesitated, "Dad?"

"Son, I purely love seafood and after watching you boys eat, I think I'm
lucky to be a banker!"

Jimmy got up to help the boys clean up the lunch dishes but Mattie held him
back. "The boys have chores," she explained, "and this is one of them." She
whispered, "Watch Zeek, he's the garbage disposal. Too many leftovers
around this house are never a problem."

Trasker and James collected the dishes and silverware but left the depleted
bowls of baked beans and potato salad. Zeek swooped in behind them, picked
up the salad bowl and the serving spoon and followed the others to the
kitchen slowly. By the time the bowl reached the sink to be rinsed; it was
empty. He repeated his part of the cleaning process with the baked beans
and then called out, "Should we make sandwiches for snacks later?"

"Whatever you boys want," Mattie answered and rolled her eyes at Jimmy.

They heard the three talking. "You ate all the beans?" James asked.

"There wasn't enough left even to make a sandwich," Zeek replied.

Trasker giggled, "I believe we're going to strap your ass to the dive
platform and y'all can be the jet drive."

"That would never work," James argued, "there would be bursts of speed, or
we'd be dead in the water. Besides, we'll have the old folks with us; think
of the whiplash, changing speed."

"What was that?" Mattie called out.

"Nothing Momma!" the boys, including Trasker, sang in three part
harmony. Trasker called Mattie, Momma or Momma Mattie all the time.

Jimmy got his bag from his rental car and Mattie took him to her room so he
could change from his long pants and dress shirt but when she found that he
didn't bring any clothes suitable for south Florida weather; they detoured
into the boys' communal clothes closet, a bedroom, so he could pick out
something that fit and that he liked. She watched him pick out madras
shorts and a nice pullover with a growing smile.

"I think those are James', he'll be pleased to see that you picked out some
of his clothes, and I think you better change in here. If we try to change
together in my room, we may never get on the boat," Mattie advised with a
nervous giggle.

"Unfortunately, I agree, but Matilda, I was wondering; would you or the
boys object if I went nude like them. I seem to be the one who's
embarrassed about being clothed while they're naked."

"I think they'll be pleased and James will discover that you are indeed his
father and nudity only takes about three minutes to get used to."

Jimmy blushed, "I noticed that. We Chambers men walk proud; he got some
really good genes from both of us."

"I best get out of here. It will be better if I see you naked again out on
the dock, where I'll be less tempted to jump your bones!" Mattie called
through the closed door with an evil giggle. She added, "There are boat
shoes in the closet; you should wear shoes!"

At first, Jimmy ran through the house looking like a perverted cat burglar
as if he was afraid to be caught, or, in his case, seen. He thought he
could peek out at the dock from the great room door but he was halfway
across the room before he realized that there was no door, the room simply
transitioned into the terrace including the furniture and he was standing
in the middle of a twenty foot opening. He didn't realize that the were
bronze framed glass panels that were hinged together alternately, and they
were folded back into the opposing walls, just like all of the window walls
in the rest of the strangely beautiful home.

The boys were loading the back of a huge sleek fishing boat. Rather Trasker
was handing things to Zeek from the dock to the deck while James, his
nearly grown very handsome son, stood on the dock holding two pails and
apparently offering unwanted if humorous advice as all three were laughing
at each other and Trasker and Zeek occasionally shot middle fingers at
James for his suggestions.

"Just go on out there and help them you chicken shit," he thought. Jimmy
was half way to the boys before they noticed that he'd arrived. Activity
stopped as the boys gawked, which turned into whistles and words of
appreciation.

"Holy shit Dad," Zeek admired, "there's certainly no doubt whose father you
are! We've rigged up a cock crutch for James but we can't get him to use
it. Maybe, since you're older, it would save your legs from supporting a
few extra pounds." He tried to look hopeful with an eyebrow raised and a
toothy grin.

"Smart ass," Jimmy laughed, "that almost sounded like a compliment and as I
recall, it's called penis envy," he put his arm over James' shoulders,
"isn't that right son?" he asked but backed away. "What's in those damn
buckets, dead fish? It sure smells rotten."

James giggled at his father's reaction, "This is pet food," he explained
with mischief in his eyes, "jump down to the swim platform and meet them,"
he invited.

"It was Logan's turn to feed them today," James advised as he tossed a
whole fish into the water, only three feet from where they stood, which was
inches above the water. Jimmy glimpsed a lightning fast, dark, streamlined
shape appear from under the dock, it and the dead fish almost disappeared
out into the cove, but James tracked it with a pointed finger as it
returned to stop suddenly off to the side and only two feet under the
crystal clear water. It was joined suddenly by a smaller fish that was the
same shape. James giggled, "That is Barry Barracuda and his new friend
Brenda. Now Dad pop two fish in their direction, but out further. Watch
Zeek over here, he's going to bring up Gary Grouper, he's slower but he
inhales his fish. While you guys do that I'll feed the Jacks with this cut
up fish."

Jimmy was enthralled as the clear water seethed and boiled with fish
species in a typical feeding frenzy. "This is fucking amazing!" Jimmy
announced and promptly covered his mouth with a slimy hand. He sputtered
and compounded his mistake by trying to wipe his mouth with the same
hand. Trasker tossed him a towel, "Sorry about the `f' word, but that
really was amazing. I purely love it down here." They all laughed when
James knelt to rinse out the buckets and one brazen Jack swam in to be sure
it was really empty. James had to pour it out. "Have you named each of
these Jacks?"

"They arrived already named. Dooby named Gary, and we decided on Barry and
Brenda," Trasker explained.

"Are we all ready to go?" Mattie asked from the dock above them. She drew
four appreciative wolf whistles instantly. "Why thank you kind Sirs," she
replied with a curtsey. Mattie was wearing a red bikini imprinted with tiny
white flowers; it set off her coffee and cream skin tone and her figure
perfectly.

After Mattie boarded, Trasker climbed to the fly bridge and started the
engines, Zeek threw the dock lines to James before he jumped on the
expansive bow and James coiled each one neatly and placed them where they
belonged while underway. Normally, if Auggie was with them and they were
just poking around the many islands or keys they put lounge chairs on the
stern deck because Auggie couldn't climb the steep ladder to the fly bridge
but since the view was so much better, the boys and Jimmy handed up the
chairs so with someone always at the wheel anyway, they all sat together to
enjoy the commanding view and share the driving.

Jim-Bob began training all the boys as well as Auggie, Zeek and even
Mattie, under her protest at first, to handle Fishin' Boy as soon as Auggie
bought the boat so he and Carter could buy their own fishing boat that they
would dock behind Diving Down Under, the dive shop in Key West where they
were likely to get more charters. Business in the dive shop, the two dive
boats and for Jim-Bob and Carter began to boom as soon as the teasers began
airing on Auggie's cable channels. It was no accident that many customers
were local residents or most were gay since seeing so many attractive,
muscular young men wearing short shorts was like looking at Abercrombie and
Fitch's catalog in the flesh and best of all, it was so convenient to see
them and only moderately expensive for a days' outing.

Jimmy was about to stretch out on a lounge beside Mattie's when she stopped
him by handing him a large bottle of sun block. He protested that he didn't
need it because he tanned easily. Mattie pointed the bottle at his package,
"When was the last time that bad boy was out in the sun? Just go below and
put it on, sunburn will not be an excuse tonight," she thought she said
softly.

James and Zeek were standing by Trasker, eagerly waiting for their turns at
the wheel. Zeek turned back to advise his new stepfather; "We all use it
Dad especially down there. You just have to really make sure you wash it
off before bed, that's what we do." He should have stopped there but added,
"That stuff just tastes terrible," he assured and received a solid elbow in
his side from his brother, James.

"You have the biggest mouth in all of Georgia and Florida. I swear, Momma
would have told him about the taste right off tonight." James hissed.

"Oh Lord," Mattie said with a sigh.

Jimmy looked from the boys to Mattie, "Am I missing something here?" he
asked.

"That cat is out of the bag boys, you two opened your big mouths so you
explain." Mattie saw her renewed relationship with Jimmy disappearing over
the horizon before it got restarted. She was planning to tell Jimmy about
that aspect of their extended family that first evening if he didn't figure
it out when the naked three boys still at home disappeared into the same
bedroom for the night; it was unlikely that they would dress in pajamas to
hold a slumber party.

Trasker idled the engines, there was no point in continuing the tour if
Jimmy took umbrage and demanded to be returned to Coral Place so he could
flee back to redneck Georgia. "Well, you see, ah, Dad, wethinkwe'regay,"
Zeek made his admission into one word, he said it so fast.

Surprisingly, Jimmy smiled, "Oh, well, you only think you are. I think all
teenage boys reach an age when there's some experimentation going on with
their good buddies. I know I did, believe it or not I was once your
age. Things change, you'll meet a perfect girl, start dating, and making
out more and more passionately and suddenly you can hardly wait to take her
to bed, again and again."

Trasker swung his tall fixed seat around to face backward and Jimmy. "I
don't know about these guys but I kind of skipped all the first part; and
the girl part, I went straight to the last thing, you know, bed, again and
again, only it was with my best buddy. Since you're a townie, you must have
heard rumors about Uncle Auggie; well those rumors are true. I think it
runs in the Bligh family."

James put his arm over Trasker's shoulders and Zeek hugged Trasker from the
other side to show solidarity and make Trasker's explanation clearer. Jimmy
directed a frown at Zeek, "You said `think', don't you know?" he asked.

"Well we're kind of pretty sure, we haven't been to bed with any girls yet,
but Dooby and Cory have and so have Christian and Tommy. They're all damn
Yankees, although we brought Cory and Dooby into the Cause. They all admit
that they've been to bed with girls but won't say anything more, not even
Dooby and he's a regular motor mouth. We think Dooby and Cory got laid by a
girl when we all went to Paradise Island with Auggie to gamble, because in
the morning they weren't interested in a quick waker upper like usual but
they couldn't quite erase their smiles the whole live long day." Zeek
giggled suddenly, "Man, if those guys went at a girl two on one I surely
would have liked to see her walking around, or tryin' to, the next
mornin'. They're a tag team with us so..."

Mattie released her long held breath to stop Zeek from further conjecture,
"That will be enough Zeek," she interrupted, "never you mind about how a
girl might walk after, after meeting up with two horny Yankee boys."

"Matilda," Jimmy whined, "Zeek's story was just getting good." He laughed
at Mattie's expression and looked at the three boys. "I think being gay
might run in the Chambers' family too, only in our family, maybe it skips a
generation. Is the tour all over? This area is so beautiful, maybe after I
sell the bank we should live down here. What do you think Matilda?"

"Sell your bank?" Trasker asked at once. "Is it for sale?"

"I'm sure it will be. I have no reason to stay there now, now that I've
found my Matilda again and my very own family. There still could be
problems if we lived in town and I won't endanger y'all. I have my
investments and a few businesses that are capably managed so I don't need
to work, although I may work if my wife chases me out of the house." He
winked at the boys, "When I first hired her to clean for me, the first
thing she did was kick me out of my own kitchen; she started preparing my
dinner and with that done she chased me around the whole house while she
chased dust, yes sir, she ran me right into my bedroom. She wanted to do my
laundry, ALL my laundry. She stripped me buck naked, placed me on the bed
and forbade me to move a muscle except as she directed." Jimmy paused to
look down at himself meaningfully and the three boys just about went
berserk with laughter.

"James boy, you just stop that outrageous story," Mattie laughed, "I did no
such thing!" She began to laugh harder and finally gasped, "I was so
industrious, I ran out of paper towels and he dared me to look for the
spare roll," after a pointed glance at Jimmy's recumbent log, she
continued, "I just knew where it was hidden. Trasker boy, have we run out
of gas?" She asked suddenly when she noticed that they were drifting. She
bounced to her feet, grabbed Jimmy's arm with one hand and waved the
forgotten bottle of sunblock as she towed her man to the ladder. "Now James
boy, since you're new to Florida, I think I should apply this lotion myself
after a tour of this beautiful boat; would you believe the master stateroom
even has an icemaker in its very own wet bar? Perhaps you'd enjoy a cold
drink?"

James replaced Trasker at the wheel, engaged the engines once again and
boosted power until Fishin' Boy began to plane. "What were you doing
talking about Dooby and Cory finding a girl to screw that night?" James
asked Zeek.

"I was trying to give Momma an opening to tell Dad that she's pregnant;
that's our last family secret."

James and Trasker's mouths both dropped open, "Pregnant, how would you
know? Momma hasn't said anything has she?" James asked.

Zeek hoisted an eyebrow at his brother and grinned, "Man, you got too much
white blood in you. If you were properly blacker you could tell. Momma
won't be wearin' that little bathin' suit much longer," he assured.

"I just thought she was putting on a little weight. This is sure likely to
complicate things." A light bulb went off in James' head. "Wait up, you
mean Dooby or Cory is likely to be the father and the girl they poked that
night was Momma? How could they do that to us, I mean screw our own mother,
I thought we were friends?"

"I don't think she gave them any choice, it wasn't their fault, it was her
decision. You know she's wanted more children and you know she's friends
with old Auntie Sue, the Juju lady." When Trasker looked blank, Zeek
explained, "A Juju lady is like a witch doctor, they practice the old
religions, worship the old gods like voodoo, understand? If you believe
they have power, then they do. Momma believes. When she finally came out of
her bedroom the next morning she looked just radiant, and I thought;
mission accomplished after seeing those Yankee boys' shit eating
expressions, I knew who with. We'll just have to wait and see which one is
the daddy in about seven months."

When the loving couple climbed the ladder to the fly bridge sometime later,
the boys noted that there seemed to be the beginning of an argument going
on. "I just wish you'd old me sooner," Jimmy said, "I wouldn't have been so
passionate. But I swear I'm not doing it again until after they're born."

"And I say you certainly will. These two boys don't mind being jounced
around a little, they think it's fun and it will build up their muscles so
they'll pop out screamin' and squallin' to beat all. Just look at Little
Zeek, just after he was born, if he got hungry; the neighbors were tempted
to call Child Services and he hasn't stopped being hungry."

James giggled as he added to the conversation, "Now instead of calling
Child Services, they call Animal Control and tell `em to bring out the
really big cage."

James was ready for his little, much bigger brother to retaliate; instead
Zeek just pushed him away, "Two boys, you said two boys?"

Jimmy wore a bemused expression, "Yup, it appears that I'm goin' to be the
stepfather of twins! Don't that just beat all?" He frowned at Mattie, "But,
I am not making love to you again until AFTER they're born!"

Mattie giggled and pulled Jimmy over for a soul searching kiss that he
couldn't help responding to. "See," she asked after she pushed him away and
pointed to the obvious, amid more wolf whistles from the boys, "You have no
more will power than Dooby's fish at feedin' time."

Jimmy turned scarlet, covered himself with a towel which served to
accentuate the problem and asked, "Where are we anyway?" while he playfully
slapped Mattie's hands away from the towel.

James was again at the wheel and had slowed the boat dramatically. "We're
just off Big Pine Key in Coupon Bight Aquatic Preserve," he explained and
continued, "we're heading south generally to Key West. Trasker called the
Dead Lobster to make sure they'll save room for us at the dock. He invited
the boys to have supper with us since they're already back from their dives
so I guess now we have something to really celebrate."

"PARTY TIME!" Zeek shouted and rubbed his belly which reminded him about
the snacks languishing in the galley. Mattie sent Trasker to help Zeek hand
up the cooler and get drinks for everyone.

While Trasker was below, Mattie explained something. "I know you offered to
pay tonight, but if Trasker or Auggie is with us, don't reach for your
billfold and don't argue about splitting the bill. They always pay. Auggie
thinks of Trasker as the son he'll never a have and Trasker boy is just
getting used to the idea. They're both proud as punch to be hosts anytime
and anywhere we go."

"Well, okay," Jimmy answered with his nose wrinkled, "but I was kind of
hoping that we'd go someplace nice. A joint called the Dead Lobster doesn't
sound very appealing."

Mattie was distracted from explaining the Dead Lobster further when the
much adored clear plastic cookie box appeared on top of Zeek's head as he
climbed the ladder one handed, "Watch Zeek," Mattie whispered to
Jimmy. "Zeek, that box was nearly full when you took it from the kitchen
but now it looks kind of depleted."

Zeek brought the box down from his head and peered closely through the
side. Finally he lowered it looking extremely puzzled. "You know Momma; I
think they must have settled. Kind of like potato chips; the bag starts out
full and suddenly it's half full as soon as you open it."

"Oh, well okay, I was just checking," Mattie said and appeared to lose
interest. Trasker had joined Zeek from below and both boys were attempting
to hide their smiles. "You know you have some crumbs right at the corner of
your mouth?" She asked suddenly, which caused Trasker to rub his mouth with
his hand and Zeek, with his hands occupied, attempted to capture the morsel
of cookie with his tongue. "Gottcha again!" Mattie sang.

Zeek, James and the other boys always yielded Fishin' Boy to Trasker's
control whenever there was some serious boat handling to be done since he
in fact owned it. As Trasker lined the yachts' bow up on one particular
canal blasted from the coral rock that comprised any Florida Keys' makeup,
he became Captain Bligh. "Put the bumpers out to port," he called to his
two man crew. "We'll turn around now so we don't have to do it after dark,"
he advised. As they began to approach the first buildings and docks on the
right he called out again, "Some clothes would be good right about now!"

This caused a flurry of activity; Mattie and Jimmy climbed from the fly
bridge to the main deck and disappeared into the salon to dress, while
James and Zeek almost instantly took positions at the bow and stern,
wearing shorts, looking up at Trasker, laughing and pointing at him wearing
his cap and sunglasses, while they held the bow and stern dock
lines. Trasker knew they got him; there was no way he could abandon the
wheel to retrieve his shorts when they were so close to docking. He
shrugged in resignation after shaking his fist in two directions.

As they approached the dive shop, Diving Down Under, Trasker used the loud
hailer, "WE'RE HERE!" He was gratified to see Zeek, on the bow nearly jump
overboard.

The dive shop building was growing; a new wing was being added to the
already large stilt building. While the shop could always use the
additional space, the new wing was being added by Jim-Bob and Carter so
they would have some private space in the large apartment built over the
shop where the three diving partners already lived. There was already a
large deck with a privacy canvas screened railing that overlooked the docks
and the canal on the back of the building and four bodies, bare above the
waist, soon appeared to wave and point to the open end of the tee dock that
fronted the next building, newly renovated, and bearing a crudely carved
and painted sign; `Dead Lobster'.

Jimmy blinked when he saw the building; whatever wasn't glass was weathered
barn board siding. "Holy shit Matilda; I was picturing a roadside shack
with no tables. Wouldn't they do more business if the sign included the
word `restaurant'?"

Mattie nodded and laughed. "I expect they would, they'd get tourists. The
three boys who own the dive shop have been working on this place forever,
as they could afford it. Then Jim-Bob who is their lifelong friend and
Carter, Jim-Bob's partner, came along and invested whatever money was
needed to get it finished and open. It was always intended to be a place
for locals to hang out since all except Carter are native cracker boys. Key
West is a rich town; there're lots of residents with money so this place
has been busy since the day they opened. The folks enjoy eating good food
off table cloths and not being bothered by sunburned tourists with cameras
asking dumb questions. Best of all, they expect that business will be
steady year round unlike other local businesses that depend on tourists
first. This might just be the one fine dining restaurant in the world where
you won't see a sign that says, `shirts and shoes required'."

The couple walked around the stern as Trasker turned Fishin' Boy around by
reversing engines and increasing or decreasing power to either as necessary
to almost turnabout within the big sport fisherman's length. As the boat
was about to bump the dock two teens raced each other out the shank of the
dock to the tee to catch the lines and secure them to convenient cleats.

The loud hailer boomed again; "WILL SOMEONE PLEASE BRNG ME MY SHORTS?"

Jimmy began to obey Captain Bligh's request but Mattie held him back. "All
Trasker managed to do is alert all the diners to the fact that he's butt
naked and they're about to see a show. Just check out the windows." When
Jimmy looked that way he saw the widows were crowded with people, sitting
or standing, all appeared to be laughing and many were pointing. No one had
their eyes covered and many were holding up their cell phones.

After the engines died, Trasker dropped down the ladder, almost in free
fall and as soon as his feet hit the deck, he vanished into the
salon. Jimmy bent over laughing and whispered to James, who was adjusting a
bumper near him; "Next time be sure the salon doors are locked."

"Damn Dad, you're one of us, we'll be sure to consult you before we prank
anyone else." James assured his newly discovered look-a-like father.

Mattie glanced up at Jimmy with her eyebrow raised, Jimmy shrugged in
defense and whispered, "They're my sons, I enjoy being on the winning side
and if I'm one of their number I can be sure future pranks will be funny
but not harmful or dangerous and best of all, pranks won't be directed at
me." Mattie nodded and hugged her man.

Trasker reappeared wearing a grin, a slight residual blush and his shorts
and shirt. He jumped to the dock to join James and Zeek, who were chatting
with the two handsome dock attendants, dressed in form fitting safari garb
that included shorts that left little to the imagination. Jimmy looked a
question at Mattie, she whispered, "They and the valet parking boys are
just about the only outside advertising the Dead Lobster needs. The whole
restaurant staff is efficient first and eye candy second as you'll see when
we get inside."

Jimmy and Mattie were halfway to the restaurant doors when Jimmy looked
back at the five boys still laughing, chatting and high-fiving, "Aren't
they ever goin' to break up their gab fest?" Jimmy wondered. "I'm ready for
a lobster."

Mattie giggled and answered, "I expect five gay boys are equal to about
twenty-five women at any social function when it comes to gossip and lying
to each other. If you want them to break that up, just say you're hungry."

Jimmy did just that and found that James and Zeek not only caught up, but
rushed ahead to hold open the doors for their parents. Trasker was a tad
behind and when Jimmy looked back, he saw Trasker shake hands with each boy
and then each boy put his hand in his pocket without looking at the bill's
denomination. Jimmy frowned, "Damn, the least I could do was tip those
kids."

"If you want to, beat Trasker just before we board. I think he gives them
fifties, when we arrive and again when we leave."

Mattie introduced Jimmy to their hosts just inside the doors and was
explaining their nicknames when Zeek and James opened the doors a second
time for Trasker, which he discovered was to be a grand entrance as the
patrons stood to applaud and cheer his brief show. Spider and Fish picked
him up and put him on their shoulders to extend the fun as they carried him
to a big round corner table on the windows that was already set for nine.

After they seated Trasker they held him place while Fish made an
announcement; "Listen up guys, Trasker's last show of the evening will
start just after we strip him as he tries to leave us after dinner. You
will rarely see a finer tanned little bubble butt disappearing down the
dock so get your cameras ready upstairs in the Oar House lounge!" The Oar
House was a play no words; it wasn't a whore house but was something of a
`meat market' among local gays.

Spider added to the fun, "And while you wait for the show, try a new drink
named in his honor; the Captain Bligh!"

"Big mouth," Jim-Bob accused, "before..."

"Why thank you Chief," Spider interrupted, "I'm pleased that y'all have
appreciated my efforts since Carter's away."

"Really, really big mouth, as I was about to say, before you name a drink
you should figure out how it's made. What's in the Captain Bligh?" As soon
as the question left his lips Jim-Bob blushed. It was unwise to leave any
of their intimate group such an opening, straight Jimmy's presence
notwithstanding.

Spider looked puzzled, "Don't look at me, Viking or Fish; we've been down
here working. So, that leaves just two possibilities." All eyes shifted to
James and Zeek while Trasker attempted to slip under the table.

James just shrugged his pretended ignorance but Zeek, the picture of
innocence, didn't, "Don't look at me either," he hesitated in thought,
"unless you count this morning; does a morning waker-upper count?"

"Oh my," Mattie said to Jimmy by way of apology, "that boy; I'm afraid
you're getting quite an education very quickly."

Jimmy shrugged and grinned, "Well, now I know that a waker-upper isn't a
cup of coffee."

The group made ribald and preposterous suggestions including a raw egg
white (not obvious enough) until Trasker laughingly suggested a raw oyster
floated on a spicy Bloody Mary. Spider and Fish immediately ran to the
service bar and returned with a tray of tall glasses. Everyone looked at
the surface of their drink to see a raw oyster surrounded by its slime
slightly shaded by a leafy celery stalk.

"Is this a virgin Captain Bligh?" Zeek asked.

"One drink tonight won't hurt you," Mattie assured, "you've already eaten
all the rolls on the table."

Zeek giggled in response, "Oh I know there's booze in there, I was asking
because we all know that there's no such thing. I believe Ryan took care of
Captain Bligh's problem within hours after he arrived at Redlands." He
looked at his father, "We've got a really good DVD if you want to see it,
we all look at it all the time after we get in bed."

"Ezekiel!" Mattie warned.

"Well it is so a good DVD," Zeek managed to get in the last word while
making believe his mother was depreciating the quality of the recording.

After they ordered appetizers and entrees Jimmy complimented the décor
generally and the table setting with stemware, linen and a low fresh flower
arrangement with a lit candle in the middle of each table. "We have Carter
to thank for both the exterior and interior design," Fish admitted. "We're
just old cracker boys at heart; if it was left up to us we would've had
plastic lobsters, fish nets and mounted fish on the walls. Of course we
weren't planning on charging as much as we do. Would you believe that
Yankee boy has a whole big accounting division attached to his law firm? He
put them to work and they came up with all sorts of charts and graphs, you
know like showing profits and loss, overhead, food costs, markups. When
Carter boy got done explaining the facts of life to us we backed off and
let him run. The Dead Lobster is a collection of restaurants Carter's been
to and liked from up where he's from; some place called Boston," he
laughed, "and apparently none of them have plastic lobsters on their
walls."

Spider added, "If you look around, you'll see half the house is ordering a
Captain Bligh at fifteen bucks a pop; that would be eight for the regular
Bloody Mary with seven more added for the oyster. We purely love little
Carter boy!"

"I sure hope you won't run out of oysters," Zeek said suddenly, "before I
get my appetizer." Before anyone could reassure him, he asked, "Are there
any more rolls? Oh, and butter too I guess." He looked at Jimmy, `Did you
know Dad that they serve real butter here? A customer actually has to ask
for the other stuff. Who ever heard of `almost butter'? Either it is or it
isn't. I'm sure glad we grew up on a farm."

Jimmy laughed, "When you get to college and start playing sports, you'll be
eating at the teams' training table; the food is better and fortunately for
a growing boy like you, you'll get all you want to eat."

Zeek and James traded glances and Zeek nodded at his brother; asking about
school right then was the perfect moment. "About school, Momma, we like
learning from Stevie and Logan's tutors, but Zeek and I were wondering if
we could go back to a regular school. Zeek missed out on freshmen football
and I would have gone out for Lacrosse now that we learned how to play the
game a little. Plus there are clubs and outside friends..." He allowed the
question to go unasked but both boys looked hopeful.

Mattie looked horrified and nodded instantly, "I am so sorry, why didn't
you ask as soon as we got down here? I just didn't think about it, I was
just wrapped up in the excitement of seeing new surroundings and
adventures. Tomorrow, we'll just go see about getting you both enrolled. I
assume there's a high school somewhere on Marathon?"

Zeek joined the conversation eagerly, step one complete, now step two was
his turn. "They do have a high school Momma, but we were thinking, now that
we can afford it, we'd kind of like to go to a private school. We'd get
about the same education we're getting now plus laboratories we don't have
now, plus we could play sports and have outside friends."

"Do not consider the expense," Jimmy assured, "now that I'm a part of this
family, y'all just save your money, your mother and I can afford to send
you to whatever private school you want to go to. You've obviously been
thinking about this, have you researched the best schools and decided on
one?"

Since James was seated next to his mother, he gave her a smooch on the
cheek and a hug for both of them. "We sure have, Dooby brought us a
brochure from the Blair Academy; it's the school they go to. The only
problem is it's kind of far away in New Jersey, but we could come home on
vacations."

Jimmy shrugged, "That's no problem either, your mother and I can live
anywhere; relocating up there would be no problem."

"You don't understand Dad we both love living down here now and after we
get out of college, we'd both like to live and work down here." James
replied.

"Okay then I guess that's settled," Jimmy agreed, "have you thought about
your careers? What kind of jobs could you find down here? Prospects look
kind of limited at least in the Keys. Don't plan on retiring after college
just because you don't have to work for a living," Jimmy warned.

Zeek answered at once, "I've been hanging out with Carter quite a bit, and
I'd like to get a law degree. I can be his gopher, summer vacations
starting next summer. He's willing to give me any help I need studying
pre-law, coach me before I take my LSAT's, and if I get a high score, his
firm will pick up the tab for law school. Of course after I graduate, I'd
work for him personally as a clerk until I pass the bar. After that I'd
become an Associate and work my way up to full Partner in a few years, and
all of that, working right down here at Coral Place with him."

Everyone around the table had their mouths hanging open as Zeek described
his future, except Mattie and James. James was nodding his agreement and
Mattie was bawling her eyes out on Jimmy's shoulder. "My baby's going to be
a lawyer!" She managed, while Jimmy looked at his son with a raised eyebrow
and a loving expression.

James flushed, "Not as elegant as doofus, I'd like to study marine biology
and whether I'd go for a Master's or Doctorate would depend on the need for
more advanced degrees when I get that far."

"Who would you work for down here, some government agency?" Jimmy asked.

"Well, Carter's working on setting up a foundation to protect the Keys, I
know the Chairman of the Board of Trustees and there's a lifetime member of
the board sitting right beside you so I think I have some juice when I come
looking for a job."

Jim-Bob giggled, "Oh man, James, you're goin' to have to be so nice to me
for so many years..." he left the implications unsaid. "You know, veto
power an' all that," he added playfully.

James produced an imaginary appointment book and pencil, looked at his palm
and nodded, "Yes sir, it looks like I'm free to be very nice to you
whenever you want me to be."

The appetizers arrived. The trays were delivered by two runners and served
by three waiters. All were young clean cut and very attractive and wore the
same form fitting safari style uniforms as the dock attendants. Unlike
servers in other restaurants, none wore aprons, just a kind of pouch worn
carefully on the hip. Jimmy realized that while all the wait staff was
efficient; they were also something of an unannounced floor show as they
moved athletically around the room. While they were friendly and always
smiling, they easily managed to avoid the occasional patron's hand that
ventured where it shouldn't go.

"Holy shit Jim-Bob," Jimmy whispered, "this place is like a meat market
that only sells prime. Do you have any rules about after hours?"

"Nope, if they're off the clock they can do as they please just as long as
they show up on time ready and able to work, meaning clean and sober. They
can make dates with patrons after work but not in here beyond a whisper
about when their shift ends; that can't be prevented. We don't give out
warnings we fire the simple dude. We have a list of guys as long as James
boys', ah, arm, who want to work here."

Jimmy laughed, "Remember he's my son and I've seen his arm," Jimmy used
finger quotes. "Ah, interviews must be interesting." Jim-Bob shrugged,
which was not the answer he expected.

Jim-Bob explained, "They could be, but just look around this table and you
haven't met Carter, Stevie, Logan or the Yankee boys yet. None of us have a
need to venture outside our little group, so interviews are nothing
special, much to some of the applicant's dismay."

Spider frowned at the heaping pile of oysters placed before Zeek. "Zeek
just how'd you manage to get that huge order?"

Zeek frowned, "Actually this is a double order but I asked for them to be
placed on one plate so you guys wouldn't think I was a pig. Y'all better
stop laughing at me!" He warned as he slurped down the first slimy
delicacy.

########

Dooby could hardly wait to get to school Tuesday morning. All the incidents
and bizarre actions by most of the student body had been explained. Corey
punked him on the first damn day and all of their closest (read intimate)
friends were in on the joke and none of them gave it away. Cory and
Christian even started calling him Count Dooby in the truck, but they were
just trying to piss him off.

Dooby left Cory and Christian's laughter behind with a raised middle finger
as he ran into the first building; to the first group of guys he saw
standing in the hall. "Hey guys, how's it going?" After return greetings he
burst out laughing for no apparent reason, which for Dooby was not an
unusual occurrence and was frequently a precursor to an amusing story about
his adventures as a rising cable television personality. Every guy in
school hoped he might tell them by accident, of his further sexual
adventures that were too hot even for late night cable TV.

"You know what?" Dooby began, "Last night at a meeting I discovered that
Cory Spelling started this thing about me being a French Count on the first
fucking day of school. I'm supposed to be here incognito to get a good
education and I won't speak a word of French; well I won't speak French
because I can't. I have trouble not using curse words in class, ah,
American English cuss words; I don't know any, in any other language. Just
so you know; I know Cory, the big prick, punked me. My last name is DuBois,
pronounced just the way it's spelled not `DuBwa', the French way. Spread
the word, okay? I'm not Count Dooby, I'm just Dooby."

"Whatever you say, Count Dooby, I think we're all glad the whole incognito
thing is out in the open," one boy announced with a grin.

"Sure Count Dooby," another boy assured, "we'll spread the word."

Dooby giggled. "Well just fuck you guys too and especially you Rodger!"
Rodger blinked, he wasn't aware that Count Dooby knew his name or how he
came to know it. "Thanks guys. Oops, got to go, heaven forbid I miss
something in English Comp."

"I wonder what the meeting was about that got Dooby to admit that he really
is French nobility and now he's going around personally to claim he isn't."

"We should ask Cory, he'd probably tell us."

"Think so?"

"Sure, remember Steve Gray asked him about the blond bitches; and Cory told
him the straight story. It was a lot more interesting, watching that show
knowing that the guys were actually face fucking those bitches while they
discussed the weather and which Disney park to go to the next day."

"Yeah, and you know what else frosts my ass about that? They were getting
paid big bucks to do it."

"I wonder how much they get paid for each show."

"I heard it was one hundred large. Can you believe that shit? Here I am
with a fucking paid debit card and get this; every time I use it, the
fucking bill shows up on my father's iPod within seconds; the whole thing,
date, time, how much, where and what for. I mean, if Big Brother isn't
watching my father sure is."

"Think about it guys; that would be one hundred large for EACH show, times
how many shows are they on per week?"

"Please, I want to heave!"

"Have any of you guys entered that Tarzan contest? Man, I have, can you
imagine getting down to the Keys on a whole private island to go diving and
fishing on that beautiful fucking sport fisherman and hanging out with
Count Dooby and Cory and maybe some of those other guys; then flying up to
Orlando on a big fucking private jet to visit the attractions."

All five boys admitted that they'd entered the contest but no one mentioned
how many times. Rodger was pleased about that because he didn't think of
himself as a very good liar and if he told the truth his friends would
wonder why the web site was on top of his favorites list, which was to view
subsequent pages, or why he'd set up a program on his desktop to vote
automatically, but not too fast; only one vote per minute. The first
contest web page pictured all the contestants lined up on the dock, of
course wearing tiny loin cloths that left little to the imagination. Each
was numbered and identified by name with a check box before each numbered
name and he was non-discriminating; his machine voted for each and every
one of them as it clicked its way down the list.

This was Rodger's first year at Blair and he was disappointed when he met
his roommate. He prayed that his roommate would be just like him; his
imagination knew no bounds. They would become good friends and discover
together after lights out that they were compatible although equally
inexperienced; they would explore the delights of gay sex together in easy
stages until the ultimate night, or ideally a weekend, when the last
guarded cherries were eagerly sacrificed.

Unfortunately, Rodger's roommate turned out to be a loud mouth braggart, a
`chip off the block', as the saying goes, as the boy's father advised
Rodger and his father on move in day that he made his hundreds of millions
on the Internet setting up dot com companies and selling worthless stock to
greedy, dumb mother fucking suckers who should have known better. Rodger
grinned as he watched his father wince on hearing the `f' word combined
with `mother'.

Then the loud mouth father asked the inevitable; "What do you do for a
living buddy?"

"We manufacture electronics," Rodger's father allowed grudgingly.

"What brand? Would I know the brand or is it some really cheap shit you
have made over in gook land?"

"I should have said we make electronic components here in America. There is
no brand name."

"That's good, smart thinkin', you don't have to worry about returns but you
know you could make more shit cheaper if you moved off shore."

Rodger's father chuckled at that, "I like to keep my finger on the pulse of
the business and I assure you we never have returns."

Rodger disappeared into the closet to store a suitcase because he couldn't
stifle his silent laughter. He knew that the company manufactured
components for the Defense Department that were incorporated into missiles,
satellites, smart bombs, drone rockets and the like, the reason that
discussing returns was so funny to both father and son; the first return
would also be the last.

After their fathers departed, Rodger's roommate dragged a suitcase from the
closet that he'd carried into the dorm personally and straight into the
closet. The boy giggled manically as he opened the case after locking the
door to show Rodger what it contained as he announced that it was to be
considered their personal `entertainment center'. Rodger counted six gallon
bottles of vodka separated by socks, underwear and rolling papers and the
boy waved what he claimed was no less than a one pound plastic bag of
marijuana. When Rodger declined to partake of the suitcases' bounty, the
boy was delighted as he allowed that he would then have enough supplies to
last until the semester break. Rodger insisted that all smoking was to be
done outside the building but since the vodka was clear, he could always
resort to plausible deniability as long as empty bottles weren't thrown in
a trash basket.

Early in the first full week of school Rodger discovered that his roommate
was so well entertained daily, that when he went to bed he went comatose
when Rodger couldn't rouse him to take a cell phone call from his father
after only ten minutes after his head hit the pillow.

Rodger got brave or daring from that night; after the kid closed his eyes,
Rodger stripped off whatever he was wearing and padded around the room in
the nude. Then since he knew what Dooby and Cory were really doing in that
room with those girls, he boldly stretched out on his bed and jerked off
while he imagined Dooby and Cory taking turns, fucking his mouth. That was
so exciting he repeated his jerking twice more before the hour long episode
ended. There was never much to clean up in the aftermath, Rodger had grown
adept at using his left hand to catch his cum in his palm, then with a lick
or two, the evidence was gone.

Of course when the web site appeared, Rodger moved his multi orgasm jerk
off sessions to his desk so he could view his idols in high definition on
his twenty-four inch plasma computer monitor. To keep the web site fresh
and interesting, always sneaky Scott kept adding new still images on
subsequent pages that froze particularly exciting cock shots, which
alleviated the need for Rodger to explore recorded teasers frame by frame
plus frozen frames tended to be fuzzy while the new images had amazing high
definition clarity.

Dooby worked all day to deny his noble family lineage and the only response
he received was that the whole school began calling him Count Dooby
openly. Everyone, including instructors were relieved that they wouldn't
accidently slip up and use his title. He stopped his campaign suddenly in
his afternoon European History class when the instructor asked Dooby,
"Would you prefer to be addressed properly, according to your rank?"

Dooby's eyebrow shot to full arch as he cautiously asked, "And just what do
you think that might be, Sir?"

"I believe you should actually be addressed as Your Grace, of course leave
it to us Americans to get it wrong."

Dooby didn't have to think it over, there was nothing to consider, "Oh no,
since this is the good old U. S. of A., Count Dooby is fine, but just Dooby
would be even better," he added hopefully but futilely.

"Well okay then, Count Dooby it is!" The instructor announced with a bow.

Since the Blair Academy was a closed community, news and gossip traveled
fast so by the end of the academic school day Dooby was Count Dooby. Other
choice tidbits included the fact that he and Cory each earned anywhere from
one hundred to an astounding five hundred thousand dollars per show
episode. The number depended on the creative imagination of the individual
student gossip.  Also, Dooby being `outted' as a titled Frenchman occurred
as a result of a secret meeting on Monday evening. The majority opinion
concerning that meeting was that both boys had been signed to have leading
rolls in a major motion picture; genre, title and date of release to be
announced, although everyone agreed it would be the next Hollywood
`blockbuster'.

Steve Gray and Cory had become good friends from just before Saturday's
golf match. Although Steve was a senior and Cory was a freshman; they were
both on the varsity wrestling squad, if at the opposite ends of the weight
spectrum. Steve liked school gossip as well as the next guy but preferred
to relay facts and truths in preference to conjecture. Case in point; Cory
and Dooby fucking the two conniving sisters and after Steve relayed the
truth of what was really happening in that hotel room, it was logical to
ask him what the secret meeting was all about the previous evening.

Steve greeted Cory in the wrestling team locker room Tuesday afternoon and
got right down to business. "First my very good buddy and sex advisor, I
need to tell you that I finally got a head job after I did as you
recommended and ah, dined at the `Y', without going into further detail and
after I finished she realized she had no choice and a hand job wasn't going
to cut it. I only had to remind her twice about using her teeth, so thank
you very much. Next Saturday I expect to go all the way, as in get laid."
Steve looked down suddenly and groaned, "Don't you wish that these singlets
weren't so tight in certain areas?" When he saw Cory's incredulous
expression, he laughed, "Of course you do, God gave you my cock, I keep
forgetting. Anyway, back to business. The rumor mill has it that you and
Dooby are starring in some major motion picture."

"HUH?" Cory looked blank, "That's news to me, what's it about, did anyone
say?"

"Nope, not yet, I imagine there will be a number of plots worked out
tonight in the dorms and whatever they are you can bet they'll all be X
rated."

"How the fuck did this get started," Cory asked.

"Dooby's been trying to convince everyone that he isn't a Count and he said
he found out that you started that story at a secret meeting you guys had
last night."

"Shit, there was a meeting, but it wasn't secret, it was just a business
proposal. Did you ever hear of a perfume called Orsini?"

"Yeah, by accident this summer; I wanted to get my mother something nice
for her birthday so I went into the City to Bergdorf's, ever hear of that
department store? It's on Fifth Avenue."

"I think so; they have a Christmas catalog for people with a lot of
disposable income and are into ostentatious display."

"That's the store. They had a window display that had a dozen bottles in
assorted sizes. Of course I was interested in getting Mom the liter bottle,
I figured if it smelled like shit she could just dump it out and use the
bottle as a nice decanter on the bar." Cory began to laugh; he thought he
knew where Steve was going. He was right. Steve giggled and nodded, "That's
right, laugh. I was not about to take out a loan on my Porsche to finance a
big bottle of that shit. She was just as happy with like a quarter-ounce
bottle and so was my billfold." He elbowed Cory, "You can stop laughing now
and tell me about Orsini."

By the time Cory finished explaining the deal without mentioning numbers,
they had finished dressing and it was Steve's turn to laugh and shake his
head, "I swear you guys just seem to step from one bucket of shit to the
next without ever hitting the poor ground where I stand. I have trusts and
shit but I need like three signatures; one of them being daddy's just to
look at the balance sheet. How can I get some of the action? Hey, would
Christian be upset if I let slip that he's about to get an international ad
account?" He asked in jest while he steered Cory into the wrestling room
using his big hands on Cory's shoulders.

Cory spun away, "I know Saul Bergen had a lot of your shots from Saturday
with ours but you're such a big fucking monster, I think that they thought
you were too old for Orsini."

"Hey now, I can't help being a bit bigger than you little shrimps but I'm
still seventeen and won't be eighteen until July. Unfortunately my baby
face makes me look younger, that is if I'm sitting down with you on my lap,
or carrying your little ass around." With that said he picked Cory up and
ran him around the room.

He put Cory down after the coach just about blew a lung into his whistle to
restore order. "Would you mind if you were photographed in the nude?" Cory
whispered from the side of his mouth.

"I assume there's some decent money involved," Steve whispered in return.

"Oh yeah..." the coach interrupted Cory's answer once again, using his
second lung.

"Are you two guys in love or did you take some stupid pills today?" The
coach demanded.

"Sorry coach, we were just talking business," Steve admitted truthfully
without thinking.

"WHAT! You were talking WHAT DID YOU SAY? I'll tell you WHAT run your
business asses out of here and give me twenty hard laps around the track
and when you come back in; maybe we could talk some wrestling business!"

All while they were putting on their warm up suits in the locker room Cory
glared up at Steve with a look that could freeze him in his tracks if Cory
was truly an Irish pixy or leprechaun as Dooby often jokingly claimed.

"I'm sorry Cory; I wasn't thinking and told the truth," Steve mumbled.

"Well in this case, I don't think a little white lie would have hurt. Damn,
some of what Dooby has must have rubbed off on you Saturday."

Dooby saw the odd couple first as they entered the track, recognized them
and waved while jumping up and down. He didn't see his coach take an
unusual call in the middle of practice, or hear him say, "Okay, I'll keep
an eye on them," but Christian did.

The coach tapped Dooby on the shoulder politely, "Your Lordship? I don't
wish to interrupt your joy at seeing two of your varlets or serfs running
penalty laps so perhaps you should join them."

Dooby looked right and left, he even looked up in the sky. "Who, me Coach?
Who's Your Lordship?"

"He's Your Grace!" Someone on the on the Lacrosse team corrected the coach
helpfully. It was Zack and he ducked behind the growing mob of boys, too
quickly to be identified but eager to witness whatever Count Dooby was
involved in.

Dooby raised a gauntleted finger in the loud mouth's general direction and
shouted, "FUCK YOU TOO BUDDY!"

The coach could barely hold back his laughter but managed. "Tisk, tisk,
your Lordship, you know we never use the vile `f' word on this noble field
of sport and for that offence, I insist you join them," he pointed. "GET
MOVING!"

Dooby scooted fifty feet to the nearest edge of the track. His intention
was to wait to intercept Cory and Steve. The coach had a better idea,
"Excuse me your Lordship," he called with excessive politeness, "not
there," he pointed to the fields' entry, "please be so kind to start over
there, AND SPRINT YOUR NOBLE ASS OFF TO CATCH UP TO THEM!"

By then Christian was laughing so hard, he'd wilted to his knees. The coach
swung around to glare at him. "Ah, Mr. Dunn, another one of the noble mob,
you appear to be tired or bored, please be so kind to join his Lordship,
NOW!" he ordered and again pointed at the distant gate. "DOES ANYONE ELSE
WANT SOME ACTION?" he shouted to the rest of the team, which caused an
instant dispersal and intense renewed interest in drills. "I thought so,"
the coach mumbled.

"Hi guys," Dooby called happily as he and Christian caught up to Cory and
Steve, "what did you do to get laps?"

"We were talking and not paying attention," Cory explained absently and
resumed his conversation with Steve. "Why don't you come over for dinner
tonight, Dom Orsini left all his promotional materials and boxes of samples
to give you an idea of what Count Dooby products are going to look like and
if you're still interested, we can go over contracts," Cory suggested.

"Ouch, Christian, goddamn it, that hurts," Dooby complained after Christian
popped him on the ass with his stick again. "I didn't get you in trouble
this time, you didn't have to laugh AND get caught. You did that to
yourself." He accelerated to run beside Steve to get out of Christian's
range. "Are you going to join us on Orsini's new label, Steve?"

"Maybe, that's what we got caught talking about. I'm good for dinner Cory,
thanks. I'll follow you."

"Can I drive your car when we get on the driveway?" Dooby asked too
eagerly.

Steve grinned down on Dooby, "You could if you were riding with me, but I
don't like that evil gleam in your eyes. Besides," he added, "your
reputation precedes you." He looked back at Christian and smiled, "Thanks
for the heads up on that buddy."

Dooby danced to the side to avoid Christian's next swing with his stick
since Steve's look back warned of Christian's close proximity. They all
agreed to save their breaths for running from that point. Of course
Christian made sure Dooby ran further and frequently sideways by constantly
pursuing him with his always ready stick.

"You know that you're going to have to tell Steve about us before you bring
him in on this deal," Christian advised Cory on the way to Spelling's that
evening.

"Yeah," Dooby agreed from the back seat. Early on it was decided that
whichever one of them was first to get a hand on the passenger side door
handle, rode shotgun without discussion or argument. "What if he's one of
those phobic assholes?"

"If I thought he was, I wouldn't have mentioned it to him. Look, from day
one, he's been fascinated with my cock. He keeps saying that it should have
been his. We aren't afraid to look at each other in the locker room and
showers. And then when I explained what was happening in that hotel room he
started to kind of plump up and when I casually mentioned that we always
handled each other to heighten a joint experience, ZOOM, that news really
got his attention and he really didn't try to hide his very nice hardon
from me very well either. Then he told me he couldn't get his girlfriend to
give him head and I told him to eat her out first and if he wanted a second
round, he should eat her out again, just like Lane is fond of doing with
Jennifer. We know Lane likes eating cum, his or any of ours and he doesn't
care where it is. We just stalled until things got more normal after that
discussion before we could dress out. I think he's a bi-boy just like
Lane."

At that point Dooby had crawled halfway between the seats to alternately
view Cory and Christian's reactions to Cory's revelations. He very much
liked what he saw until Cory pushed him back and called him a pervert. This
started a verbal joust which lasted until Christian parked in front of
Spelling's home. The playful argument also served to calm all three boys
down.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay for dinner?" Cory asked Christian
before he closed the truck door. Since school started, Christian stayed
about half the time and sometimes Tommy joined them, although Laura didn't
allow business talk at the table, so those occasions were pleasant breaks.

"Thanks Cory, this is going to be a busy week for Tommy and me at the
office. We're meeting with Dom this weekend to present our proposal. We'll
just pick up something to go or maybe order in at the office."

"I heard Justa Pizza is good, give them a try!" Dooby suggested with a
laugh.

They waved until Steve offered an appreciative whistle behind them as he
stared up at the house. "Nice hotel you've got here," he told Cory, "you
can just see this house from a road across the valley but I didn't know who
lived here."

"Thanks Steve, dad bought it way back when these big places were considered
white elephants, long before developers considered the land valuable; there
was so much available closer to the city at the time." Cory advised.

Dooby ran by them carrying his and Cory's book and suit bags that was the
penalty for not riding shotgun, "Come on guys, its feeding time!" Once he
managed to get the front door open he sang, "GRANNY, GRAMPS, WE'RE HOME!"

"Feeding time," Steve wondered, "I can't believe he's that hungry."

Cory giggled, "Not us, the deer. Just put your bag with ours. We'll really
need showers after we feed them." Although Dooby was running, he'd taken
the time to place their book bags on the third stair step and then drape
the suit bags over the books neatly.

They heard Charlie shout, "Dooby, hurry up goddamn it, they're trying to
get in the house!"

Laura added, "Dooby darling, if you call me Granny one more time there's
going to be another name change in this house! Do you understand, HAROLD?"

"Utoh, my mother just ended that game," Cory laughed and explained while he
led Steve through the drawing room and out the nearest French doors.

The two boys stopped just outside. Dooby was slowly walking around the
terrace softly greeting many of the herd who were gathered there. Steve was
amazed to see some even allowed Dooby to pat them lightly as he sang
`Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer' song softly. Others sniffed his hand and
ambled to the empty feeding troughs and looked back at him with accusing
`doe' eyes. The three magnificent buck remained aloof while Rudy sniffed
Dooby's body as if he was looking for where he was hiding the feed and
actually placed his head under Dooby's hand to receive an additional
scratch around his ears and meager set of antlers.

"Come on guys," Dooby instructed, "just walk through them slowly to the
garden shed. Oh, and Steve, don't step on the raisins." He advised with a
soft giggle.

Steve whistled again when he followed Dooby and Cory into their lounge,
part of the homes' master suite. "This is a bedroom?" He asked as Dooby
carried all three of their suit bags into the bedroom while Cory plunked
their two book bags on the two facing desks and then began to remove his
soiled warm up suit. Steve was already aware that Corey wasn't wearing
anything else under the suit as their singlets and jocks went into the team
laundry cart. Corey encouraged Steve to do the same with a grin as Dooby
reappeared already naked and went straight to the wet bar to find a round
of cheese, knife and dumped a box of crackers on a tray with the cheese. He
placed the tray and three long neck beers on the coffee table placed
between two matching over-stuffed sofas, in front of a fireplace. He
finished by using a small remote to start the fireplace before he claimed
one end of a sofa and began cutting precise wedges of cheese.

Steve watched Cory sit next to Dooby, so closely their thighs touched. He
blinked when Cory patted the space next to him. It was Dooby's turn to
whistle as he scanned Steve's body, "Wow, hard body and well hung too," he
praised.

Steve accepted Cory's invitation to join them on the same sofa and found
himself seated close enough so his leg touched Cory's. "Am I getting a
message here?" He asked before he drained a third of his beer but didn't
move his leg. Before Cory could answer, he asked, "Was that scene with
those two bitches all scripted, like it was all reality bullshit?"

Dooby took exception to the last question, "Fuck no, neither of us will
ever throw anyone out of bed if we find them attractive and willing. Those
girls weren't bad looking and they had nice bodies; they just needed their
voice boxes adjusted and at least fifty points each, added to their IQ's."

Steve couldn't help grinning while Dooby giggled and Cory laughed and
nodded. "You guys are messing up my image of what gay guys look like and
how they act. It's hard to think about an athlete being gay or could
possibly be, without it showing somehow."

"Hey just think about pros who come out, usually after they retire; they
write a book and only imply that team sports are fun, but they never name
any names of fellow teammates who don't mind having the same fun
occasionally," Dooby argued. "Some real assholes even get married and have
a family before they grow the balls to announce their true preference. Can
you imagine what their wives and kids must feel like?" he added. "We'll
never be that phony, we'll always mess around with girls occasionally if
available, but guys are just a lick better."

"That's why I wanted to tell you about us in private, before the first
photo shoot when you'd be shocked to see how many really, really, good
friends we have and none of them look gay either, at least not the way you
expect us to look or act," Cory stated as Dooby pulled him back against his
chest more to stretch his neck to see the reaction, if any, between Steve's
legs, than to make his little, big lover more comfortable. He was very
pleased with what he saw.

The three boys talked for another twenty minutes. In order for Steve to get
his share of cheese he had to reach across Cory, since Dooby had placed the
tray right in front of himself so Steve touching Cory grew more
frequent. Steve started guessing who else at school was gay and while they
wouldn't say, Dooby couldn't help grinning and/or giggling when Steve
mentioned a name that he was going to find out about anyway.

"Christian and Zack Bradley too, holy shit, I've known Zack forever," Steve
said as he reached for a snack across Cory's legs.

Dooby was waiting for that perfect moment. He suddenly pushed Cory up and
over Steve's back. Steve reacted by pulling Cory over his head and had him
sitting on his lap instantly and made him helpless by tickling him
unmercifully and, Dooby noticed, a tad carelessly since he knew better than
anyone that Cory's cock wasn't ticklish. "Time for a shower if you two
little kids are done fooling around," he scolded as he stood up to display
his own erection.

Steve froze in place except for pushing Cory to his feet, "You two guys go
ahead and shower, I think I need to calm down a bit first," he said as his
eyes moved between Dooby and Cory's hardons and finally locked on Cory's.

Dooby giggled and grabbed Steve's arm while Cory took the other one, "Come
on big guy, we're all going to calm down together in the shower!" Once they
had Steve standing Dooby cocked his head, "Whoa Sprout, now there's a very
nice mouthful and at such a convenient height!"

"Sprout?" Steve asked as they guided him into the bathroom and the
shower. Dooby and Cory worked as a team; they both turned on the opposing
showers as they backed Steve against the marble wall.

"We have rules for straight guys," Dooby advised from down on his knees,
"you don't have to do anything you don't want to do, just let us know,
okay?"

Steve moaned, "Could I kind of let you know afterward?" he mumbled.

"Well all righty then, you're just like my future brother-in-law,
adventurous," Dooby whispered as he took Steve in his mouth, which caused
Steve to really moan.

Steve looked down at Cory who was stroking himself while he watched Dooby
closely. "Ah, Sprout, I could maybe help you out there if you stood up on
this bench seat." Cory climbed over Dooby's back to get to the seat. He
waited to see what Steve planned to do. "Do straight boys ever kiss gay
boys? I wouldn't mind trying that."

After a two minute lip lock, Cory pulled back and grinned, "Was that okay?"
He asked, "You know you almost swallowed my tongue?" He added using a
playful scolding tone of voice.

"I, ah, was kind of imagining that your tongue was my cock that's still
attached to you. Could we try that while it's at such a convenient height?"

"Be my guest, I'll tell you when I'm ready so you can pull away," Cory
said. Steve barely nodded; he didn't want to risk biting as he went to
work. He even put his hands on Cory's hips to move him back and forth.

Soon Cory and Steve were both thrusting their hips and began breathing
faster. When Cory advised Steve that the moment to pull away had arrived,
he felt Steve's hands tighten on his hips and suddenly it was too late to
care. Steve inadvertently added to Cory's pleasure by moaning as he
exploded in Dooby's mouth. Just then the intercom in the suite crackled to
life.

"First call for dinner," Laura's metallic voice advised from the bedroom.

"WE'RE COMING!" Cory shouted. "That joke never gets old," he stated.

When Cory and Steve got done laughing, they began washing each other using
one of Orsini's body washes. Dooby had pulled himself up to the bench seat
and began to look pouty when he was ignored. He didn't see Cory wink at
Steve. "Could I get a little help here?" Dooby asked with pleading in his
voice.

Cory frowned, "Well okay, but only if you're fast, we don't want to be late
for dinner."

"I'll be fast, I'll be fast" Dooby promised and waved his pulsing
cock. Cory just had time to kneel between Dooby's quivering legs, and take
the head in his mouth before Dooby exploded.

Steve blinked when Dooby quickly pulled Cory up his body and kissed him
passionately, only to open his eyes, frown and push Cory away. "Pig," he
accused, "you swallowed already!"

Cory giggled, "That's what you get for being so fast. We'll work on getting
you retrained later tonight."

Dooby turned haughty, "Well EXCUSE me, I found that sucking off a straight
stud like Steve was exciting and I just got carried away."

"Thanks Dooby, I think. You were great. I know one thing; my girlfriend
will get some special instruction on head jobs, now that I know how they
should be done properly."

When they began to dress, Steve went to his suit bag. "We can find you
something casual to wear that will kind of fit your big ass," Dooby
assured. He went into a drawer where he kept some of Christian's
clothes. Steve was surprised to find, that, while snug, the shorts fit and
he saw, displayed his package quite nicely.

Cory corrected Steve's assumption, "Those are Christian's shorts not
Dooby's," he told Steve as Dooby reappeared from their closet with a high
school team jersey.

Dooby giggled, "There's more than one way to get into Christian's
pants. Just tell me you don't find it kind of sensual to have your junk
exactly where Christian had his."

Steve blushed, "I wouldn't have, if you hadn't mentioned it. You gay boys
are getting my mind all messed up."

"Here sissy, put on this jersey to hide yourself; it's really a little big
on me for some reason." Dooby explained.

Cory started laughing after Steve pulled the shirt on and found that it too
fit. "Dooby, you asshole; turn around Steve, so Doob can see the back."

Steve turned, Dooby managed to look puzzled as he spelled, "D-U-N-N, hum,
imagine that, no wonder Christian always frowns at me when he sees me
wearing that shirt. Who knew?"

Steve was surprised when he was seated at the end of a table that would
seat another sixteen guests not including his hosts, Laura and Charlie
Spelling sitting on his left and Cory and Dooby facing them on his
right. Charlie explained that the table was wide enough to seat two on
either end, and if Tom and/or Christian had been there for dinner, those
seats would have been theirs.

Both Christian and Tom had standing invitations to arrive for dinner
without invitation since both were very busy and Spelling's were interested
in making sure the always busy guys ate properly whenever they had time
since they were good friends and Charlie's business associates.

With dinner finished and a pork roast devastated, the boys took Steve back
upstairs to talk business where they'd carried all the samples and mounted
advertising that Dominic Orsini planned to use as his presentation. Cory
explained Saul Bergen's involvement as their agent and Dom's plans for
introducing a new line of products aimed at younger guys, teenagers,
without actually using the word, and the line was to be titled `Count
Dooby'.

Steve looked around and giggled, "Speaking of the Count, where'd he go?"

"He's taking a shower," Cory responded with a grin.

"Another shower, does Dooby have some kind of phobia or what's the story?"

Cory hedged, "Well, on the way home tonight I may have mentioned that you
were planning on getting laid on your next date for the very first
time. Dooby thinks that you should have some experience, you know be
knowledgeable, or worldly. Girls like that in a guy." He waited for the
implications to sink in Steve's head.

It didn't take long as Steve's face turned red. "Ah, is he going to let
me... Ah, expect me to do it with him... You know..." He lifted the front
of his shirt, looked down and straightened his erection in Christian's
shorts.

"Your cock seems to like the idea of some advanced sex education," Cory
said and pointed. He pulled Steve to his feet and towed him into the
bedroom.

Once there Steve didn't quite know where to look first. Dooby was stretched
out on the bed and looking at a big screen TV placed conveniently at the
side of the bed while he fiddled with a remote to advance the images of two
guys, two good looking, young, naked guys on a bed. It appeared to Steve
that the studs were about to make love. While Steve stared, he didn't seem
to notice that Cory had unbuttoned and dropped his borrowed shorts and
obediently lifted each foot when Cory slapped each leg to remove the shorts
completely. He did notice when Cory briefly blocked his view when Cory
ordered him to bend over so the jersey could be pulled over his head.

"Wow!" Steve mumbled as Cory pushed him to the bed beside Dooby and then
joined the two, also recently naked. "Are they going to...?"

Dooby nodded eagerly, "They sure are. This is one of our favorite
DVD's. That's Trasker and Ryan, two of our friends from Georgia. Trasker's
on top because what you're about to see is his first time. You'll meet them
Thanksgiving. Hey that's right, you need to get permission from your
parents to leave school a week early for Thanksgiving break. We're all
going down to Coral Place to shoot our Christmas Show and Dom Orsini will
have his photographer guys there to shoot all the still pictures for Count
Dooby. We won't work all the time though, we'll have a blast, fishing and
diving..."

"Dooby," Cory interrupted, "shut up. You're supposed to be teaching Steve
how to fuck like an expert."

"Oh yeah, sorry about that, but we can't wait to get down there. Now Steve,
you just watch Trasker and do to me what he does with Ryan and I'll do what
Ryan does to help Trasker. Got it?" Steve nodded helplessly. "Okay then,
one slightly bent strait boy coming up!"

After Steve finished with Dooby, he began making out with him to show his
thanks for the experience while still imbedded. He heard the shower running
and noticed Cory and his very sensual hands had left the bed. "What is it
with you gay boys always taking showers?" He asked, actually puzzled.

Dooby grinned, "We took a shower before dinner to get the outside clean and
right now Cory's getting the inside clean just like I did earlier. You
didn't expect to get out of here without taking a final exam did you? Cory
wants to be sure you were paying attention and have all the basic moves
down." Steve's renewed blush and the feel of his suddenly growing cock
indicated that he understood what they did to get the inside clean.

"I, I've gone this far, could I maybe try to be Ryan?"

"OOPS, I better stop the video right about here. Come on in the shower. Do
you have any homework tonight?"

Steve giggled, "I thought I was doing it!" He exclaimed as he pushed Dooby
into the bathroom.

"CORY," Dooby shouted, "we've got a slightly bent straight boy who wants to
be made into a pretzel!"

Three hours later, Steve settled in his little cars' seat and wiggled his
butt experimentally; he felt only a pleasant tingle and maybe some residual
slippery. Dooby went first after Cory granted him an `A' plus, for his
efforts in taking his final exam. Dooby explained that he needed to open
the way if he was to experience Cory without shock and only minimal first
time pain. That was good advice as was the careful barbering he'd received
after the guys explained the reason beyond obvious enhanced aesthetics. He
wondered if his girlfriend would actually lick and nibble on his balls as
Cory and Dooby did to show him how that felt. Of course he would tell her
that he did it just for her plus he now knew that he would have no problem
eating his cum out of her each time he fucked her. Although he frankly
admitted to himself that it was far easier to get it directly from the
source, someone with an athletic body like Dooby or Cory's to avoid all
that licking and slurping. Once again he reached down to straighten his
cock constrained by Christian's shorts. He decided he would have to use
Orsini's after shower lotion as soon as he got in bed, along with images of
Christian and Zack Bradley's bodies as he got off just one more time.

Saturday, after the next Spelling's show was in the `can', the group was
having lunch; rib eye steaks, the subject of the show and as a surprise
Dooby produced a large quantity of marinated shrimp on skewers. He tended
the shrimp while Corry grilled additional steaks on stove top grill
plates. Neither boy cared whether the cameras were running or not but was
fairly certain that they were so they kept curse words down to minimum
levels to avoid those subsequent annoying bleeps.

Scott opened a folder and read a paper before nodding, "You know guys, when
you started the Tarzan contest you didn't go into the rules except to say
people could vote for whomever they liked as many times as they wanted to
vote. This was a very good thing because when Ryan and I wrote the actual
rules we decided that the winner would be the person who voted the most
times and screw which guy they voted for unless the numbers coincided."

"Where are you going with this Scotty?" Dooby asked suspiciously. "We
haven't messed with voting. Did someone fuck, err, screw it up somehow?"

"No Dooby, but someone voted so many times and is still voting, we already
have a winner, and since the winner is to be announced on the Christmas
show it would be fun if you introduce him on that show we tape
Thanksgiving, in person."

"Him," Cory asked, "is it some guy we know?"

"Maybe, do you know a guy who goes to Blair named Rodger Mathews?"

Cory shook his head but Dooby nodded, "Yeah, I do, Rodger's a really nice
guy, except I think he was the first guy to call me Count Dooby just after
I told him and some other guys that I wasn't a Count, the prick." He added
after a shrug, "I guess calling me Count is better than calling me Grace."
He shivered and explained what his European History instructor had to say
about proper forms of addressing nobility.

"And just how do you know this guy, Rodger?" Cory asked playfully while
tapping his foot, with his hands on his hips as if he was asking a pussy
whipped husband.

Dooby looked at the closest camera and then at Scott. Scott waved his hand
and the cameras and recorder were switched off. Dooby grinned, "I always
scope out new guys, you know; the cute ones. I check out their bodies and
their packages and I also watch to see where their eyes wander to check me
and other guys out too. Rodger is cute; he makes eye contact and then
allows his eyes to drift down. I think he has his clothes tailored because
there's no room for a sock. If I see a guy who might be gay, I find out his
name. Like it or not we are in the minority and we need to stick together."
Dooby defended before he switched gears, "Hey Scott who did Rodger vote
for?"

"Well that's the strange part, he voted, or still votes," Scott corrected,
"for all the guys, but for you two jokers and Christian more to start
with. He might be a geek with some heavy hardware to set up some kind of
automatic program that's still running, or it was as of this morning."

Dooby started giggling and nodding as he removed the shrimp from the grill,
"My spy network told me exactly that. One guy takes Computer Science with
Rodger, who happens to be bored with the course, that would be Rodger who's
bored, not the guy I talked to, and Rodger told him that he has a custom
built machine his father built and his father's company makes some kind of
super-secret shit for the Defense Department, which kind of explains how
Rodger goes to Blair and even Zack and Billy accept him as one of their
`IN' group." He waved two skewers for finger quotes and managed to ignore
the flying garlic-butter sauce he'd basted the shrimp with while Cory
glared since he was on the receiving end of one of the skewers and like
Dooby, he wasn't wearing his Spelling jersey.

Finally, Cory said, "Well after lunch, maybe we can get Christian out of
the office for half an hour to take us over to the school to see what
Rodger is up to. Oh hey, is he really good friends with his roommate? We
wouldn't want to interrupt anything, if he really is gay."

Dooby shook his head definitively and then qualified his action, "I'm not
certain, but I hear that his roommate, also new this year like us, is a
real douche bag. Rumor has it that he smokes grass in the bushes just
outside the door even though the bushes are losing their leaves and if you
see him drinking something clear, it isn't water. He's been cutting classes
and I'm told he won't be back next semester." He shrugged, "So no, I don't
think Rodger is messing around with his roommate," again he vacillated,
"but I could be wrong. Let's eat, I'm starving," he looked down on Cory,
"What are we having for dinner tonight, did you ask your mom? We may need
to save some room."

Saturday after lunch, Rodger returned from the dining hall to find that his
roommate had returned from wherever he'd found to smoke and drink his lunch
and was already passed out on his bed. To be sure, Rodger attempted to
rouse the sorry dude by first shaking him, then tickling him and finally
shouting, "Hey you stupid asshole, the building's on fire!" several times
without the slightest response.

Rodger shrugged, his homework, what little he had, was done so he had
several hours for play time and perhaps a short nap before dinner. He
stripped and hung his clothes in his closet as he padded back across the
room to his desk and computer, he paused to wag his semi-hard cock at the
second bed, "You know asshole if you were better looking, cleaner and had
the intelligence of my dog; I'd let you blow me or I'd blow you and we
could fuck the afternoon away, but oh no, not you. You know I've never even
held a normal conversation with you since classes started? I'm going to
jerk off now with some friends and I don't want to be disturbed."

He sat down at his desk and turned on the monitor that blinked to life
asking for a password; f-u-c-k-m-e, he typed and entered. The powerful
machine flashed to show the whole delectable gang lined up on the dock with
his active voting program silently working below the group photo. Rodger
again pondered which of them would be elected Tarzan; his personal
preferences were Dooby, Cory or Christian he thought because they were
fellow students at Blair and he could actually see them walking around on
campus and of course he'd talked to Dooby and still wondered how Dooby knew
his name.

He decided once again that he'd enjoy some group sex with the Count, Cory
and Christian. He tried a three way in all possible imaginary combinations
but always felt that one guy was left out of the action; a four way was
much more exciting. Rodger reclined his chair and decided that Christian
with his magnificently sculpted body would be the first to mount him with
Count Dooby eagerly fucking petite Cory so close together that their four
bodies touched and could be felt randomly with their hands. His first
orgasm of the afternoon coincided with Christian's explosion just like
always. He sighed; collecting his cum was always a distraction, however
necessary, but swallowing wasn't when he imagined it was really Cory's, and
in copious quantities to match the obvious size of Cory's balls. His body
jumped when his roommate snorted and turned over, his cock wilted slightly
from the sudden fright factor. He shot the comatose asshole a finger as
someone knocked on the door.

Rodger was prepared for that eventuality; he always kept a pair of shorts
draped over one arm of his executive office chair. He'd dreamed that since
his roommate was out; that there just might be another gay guy in the dorm
who had working gaydar, since his always seemed to be broken, and the guy
would one day come calling. He pulled on his shorts, looked down and
realized that he'd picked out his oldest, nearly worn out and it seemed
repeated washings had disintegrated the elastic in the waistband so they
drooped, which accentuated his still half-hard cock. He scooted to the door
as the knock was repeated. At first he cracked the door open, hid behind it
and peeked round the edge. "Holy shit, ah, hi guys," he welcomed Dooby,
Cory and Christian weakly. "I was just kind of thinking about you."

Rodger thought he was hallucinating at first until Dooby tipped his head so
his eyes were vertical to match Rodger's. "Rodger Mathews you better open
this fucking door and let us in, we have news. Good news," Dooby added.

"Oh, yeah, come on in, welcome to Casa Mathews, such as it is. You have
news?" Rodger asked as he opened the door fully but didn't step back out of
the way. He felt three sets of eyes scan his nearly naked body before all
three moved back to his dangerously drooping worn out shorts and what they
concealed or displayed, depending on one's preference."

"Damn Rodger, those shorts are really neat," Dooby opined, "How'd you get
the elastic waist band to fail like that?" he asked as he moved into the
room, spied the leather high back executive desk chair and thought it an
appropriate seat for his noble ass. He started giggling as soon as he sat
down and looked at the screen. "Scott was right guys; he does have a
program, check this out. Rodger, you ingenious dog, we're the official
prize patrol from the Tarzan contest and we're here to advise you that you
won!" Dooby declared. Cory and Christian crowded Dooby to view the working
voting program, leaving Rodger to stand in the middle of the room looking
lost and very surprised.

"I won, really? It doesn't matter that I cheated? Which guy got the most
votes? I set it up so it moves up and down the list kind of non-partisan."

Cory looked up from the monitor to answer and once again appreciate
Rodger's body from further away. "Damn Doob, good eye," he whispered.

Dooby stretched his neck to look over the screen and grin at Roger, "Damn
right, Cock Magnet is my other title." He ignored Cory's elbow as it
connected with his head and already knew that Cory and Christian were red
faced and rolling their eyes. Dooby carried on, "It doesn't matter which
one of us won, we'd like you to come down to Coral Place with us over
Thanksgiving break, to be in our Christmas Show so all of the guys will be
there. It would help if you could leave a week early to fly down with us to
save poor Auggie some gas. His plane is such a pig," it seemed like an
after-thought when he added, "Oh, if you're gay, you can sleep in the house
with us, but if you aren't, you can stay at a resort Auggie just bought on
the Gulf side to handle the over-flow plus parents are invited for
Christmas. This trip for you doesn't count as your prize though; you'll
still have two weeks for two people whenever you want to take them."

The three guys watched Rodger suck his lungs full of air, he realized it
was now or never, "I think I'd like to stay with you guys in the house, if
that's alright."

#################

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Jamie Haze