Open Sesame

a fantasy

by Hank Horne

(hank2337@gmail.com)

 

Our appearance distracted Jamal, and Arman took advantage of it, beating his lover with an easy win.  Jamal had a classic response, which translates from the Persian as, "Fuck!" That gave us a good laugh.  Then we got down to business.

 

Part III – Base Locale: Here and There

 

A couple of weeks later, the three Iraqi musketeers and I flew into LAX for a couple of weeks in Southern California. I had booked a suite in West Hollywood and arranged for a driver who was willing, for a bonus, to drive four gay men all around for our first week, touring the predominately gay areas of the megalopolis. Delmar, our driver, showed us where some of the `suspected' gay stars lived, as well as those who had already `come out' to the world. When he picked us up, he told us that the driving service owner had asked for a volunteer to take this assignment. There were two who volunteered – the other guy was straight, or maybe bi, but he volunteered because of the bonus. Delmar volunteered because he was gay.

We always invited Del to have lunch with us at some of the gay `daytime' hangouts. He also suggested some after-hour clubs that he enjoys and volunteered to take us any evenings we wanted to try them out. Of course, the Eagle LA was a must, Trunks and Gold Coast were on his list, and he insisted we spend some time at Slammer. He goes to Slammer on Tuesday nights because he gets a discount with his gym membership; there's a onetime only fee for out-of-towners. He had us on the go every day and gave us a place to go every night.

On Tuesday, Del volunteered to pick us up at nine p.m. and take us to the Slammer. It was everything I had heard about the gay baths in the `60s and `70s – and more. After all, this was Hollywood, not D.C. We had just planned to mingle and maybe go for a blow job or two, but Del had other ideas. He took us to our lockers, and after we had stripped and wrapped our towels around our waists, showed us the private cubicles, the orgy room and the TV room. He knew all the staff and several of the `guests.' He introduced us to everyone. As a pseudonym, I have frequently used my first and last given names, Gerry Gaither, rather than the name I'm known by. Imagine giving some kid a name like Gerald Grant Gaither – Richards! (My two granddads were Gerald Richards and Grant Gaither.) Oh, well! Suck it up! When I'm "on the dark side," it's usually "Hank," as in "Hanky Panky!"

As we walked around all the corridors and saw the variety of rooms, including the shower, we were in the same aroused condition as most of the others in there. The orgy room was well lighted – with `black light,' a/k/a ultraviolet lights. It took a while to adjust so we could see the incredible show all around the room. Del told us that if there were a raid, the front desk could turn on all the 25-watt lights in the place as a signal to `behave.'

Del met a friend of his in the TV room and he sat on the couch next to him, where they started playing with each other. The four of us weren't watching the hot video on the screen either. I asked Maji, "Need any ideas for some of your vids?"

He replied, "Nah, I'm good. I'll shoot whatever looks and feels good and hot!"

"I bet you will," I quipped.

"I've got the waterbed room," Delmar told his friend. They got up, holding their towels and each other's hand, walking toward his room. Del looked at us and nodded for us to follow. His room and bed certainly were big enough for all of us, as it was a king size waterbed. We had our own, private orgy room. And Delmar was hunky enough for any of us. About five-foot nine, one sixty of solid muscle from gym workouts, fairly ripped and solid. His chiseled pecs and nipple rings were just waiting for me to take advantage of. He sported a good eight and a half inches of meat that would be a mouthful for anyone. His `amigo' was taller, just as solid and had a thick side-curve whereas Del's curved slightly up.

We all dropped our towels and crawled on the waterbed with them. Everyone started out with their own partner, but after a while, Delmar and Amigo (we never did get his name) joined us, one of them with each pair of us. Oh, fuck fidelity! Go for the gusto! Maji, Delmar and I worked our way into a trio as Dildar, Hassan and Amigo did the same. I felt a tongue lapping at my back door which made my front get harder, if that were possible. Maji was working on my nipples with his fingers while my throat was being invaded by his minaret, and I was being called to worship.

The experienced tongue at my back was working its way inside and I was responding to the intrusion. Then I felt something else intruding its way through the responding entrance. It may or may not have been a Lucky Strike, but I was lucky to have it strike the center and keep sliding inward. Delmar was lying on my back, humping like a wild animal in heat. Maji leaned forward over me to meet Delmar's hot mouth with his own. Our driver began stroking my cock, matching his rhythm in my ass. His cock would rub my hot spot on his down stroke and avoid it on his trip back, making my sensations erratic and somewhat unexpected. Maji reached out to Delmar's chest, tweaking the waiting pierced nipples while Delmar used one hand to tweak Maji's nipple.

What seemed like an eternity, and yet was over too soon, Maji's balls signaled he couldn't wait any longer and shot load after load down my throat. Although my prostate wanted more, I reached the point of no return, losing control of my staying power and released a massive amount of my own baby makers on the bed. I collapsed on top of a sticky glob of gunk, pulling off Delmar's cock as he unloaded on my back. Dildar, Hassan and Amigo were busy pulling their puds, and aimed straight toward us as they added their ammunition to our supply. Maji and I were face to face. He reached over to give me a kiss, and I let him taste his own contribution to the supply.

As we recuperated, Hassan and I were holding each other closely, while Maji and Dildar were embracing tenderly, and Delmar was cuddled into his amigo, with the bigger man holding him firmly. It was when I felt the bed shaking, that I noticed Amigo, still on his side, impaling Delmar vigorously. Dildar looked like he was ready to go again. Hassan nodded to him, and Dildar turned over toward the other couple. They moved closer, Hassan behind Dildar, and Dildar aimed for Amigo's backside. As Amigo moved back, he impaled himself on Dildar's cock, and the young Arab slid closer to the hunky Argentinian. Hassan joined the group by sliding closer to his lover. Maji and I just watched in amazement at the stamina of the four young men. {And, no, we are not that old!}

Amigo wrapped his arm around Delmar, first pinching and rubbing his nipple, then reaching down to manipulate his hard cock. Dildar rubbed his hand over Amigo's chest and up and down his side, occasionally rubbing the hardened nipple with various degrees of pressure. Hassan did the same for Dildar as his impressive cock hid then showed itself sliding in and out of the younger Arab's most personal orifice. Dildar was the first to become rigid with pre-orgasmic ecstasy, meaning that Amigo was continuing the momentum on Dildar's manhood, forcing more pressure on his young penetrator. As Dildar unloaded inside the muscle stud, Amigo was turned on to release inside his friend, which triggered Delmar's own ejaculation. With three orgasms exploding next to him, Hassan couldn't hold his back any longer, slamming into his lifelong friend with his release.

We all just lay there in orgasmic euphoria, waiting for our pulse to regain normalcy. Maji and I were the first to get off the bed and head for the showers. There were several men showering, showing various stages of erection when we walked in. They all looked at us as we took available showers. One reached over and took my own semi-erect cock in his soapy hand, lathering it generously. I looked over at Maji who was across the room and a man was on his knees, sucking him, the shower water pouring on both. They must have been waiting for `fresh meat,' because when I was all soaped up and erect, the guy in front of me turned around and bracing himself against the shower wall, bent over guiding my bare cock up his ass. I looked at Maji again and he just smiled. So, I turned back to my intended target, and plowed the fresh field. It took some time before I was ready for release, but then pulled out, shooting on his back. He shot off on the shower room floor, then turned around and kissed me on the lips. I refused his tongue attempt. Maji was holding onto his partner's head as he filled his mouth and throat with a massive volume of semen. When he released the stranger's head, he gave me a big smile and a double "thumbs up!"

Looking toward the doorway, we saw the other four guys just coming into the shower room with big grins on their faces. They must have seen the show's climax. We all showered, chatting about the evening. Back in the room, Amigo gave us all big hugs and kisses, and thanked us for an enjoyable evening. We replied that he had made our day. After dressing, Delmar took us back to the hotel about two a.m. and said he would see us at nine.

We had a 10:00 a.m. scheduled tour of the Burbank Studios, which used to be Warner Brothers and The Disney Studios, but were later merged. A friend from my teen years, but several years older than me, had worked at Warner's in the mid-1950s as a tour guide, when it was an hour walk around the lot, he said. Now they have a tram that takes visitors around. That afternoon, the five of us went down to Knott's Berry Farm for the tour and dinner of bison steak. We all enjoyed a change of pace from the gay stimulus we had enjoyed all week, so far.

During the second week, we rented a car and drove several places on our own. We spent a day at the original Disneyland to get a feel for the differences between it and The Magic Kingdom at Disney World, which has Epcot Center next door. The next day, we drove down to Santa Monica to enjoy the Pacific Ocean and all the muscle men showing off their great builds at Muscle Beach in the Venice section. Then, since we were that far down the coast, we went on to San Diego for the Navy ships, and their men, who might be in port. The night we were there, we went to a couple of the bars which were considered "off limits" to the military. We checked out some guys who were there, and although out of uniform, had the navy/marine haircuts and posture which added to their steaminess. The next morning, we toured the "world famous" San Diego Zoo, then started back north in the afternoon.

That night about midnight we went to the Brass Rail. Of course, it was loaded with hot leather and tight denim muscle. All the buns were round, firm and fully packed! With our sleeveless muscle shirts and tight jeans, we fit right in. We enjoyed being eyed and groped and hit on, so it was a good way to end up the night. However, the late night was just beginning. We separated around the room, not worried about safety because Maji's and my security guards were with us in our rings. They wouldn't let us get hurt, if it got too rough. It seemed like everyone in there practically lived at a gym. A couple of leather guys were not only shirtless, but had on a T-bar under leather chaps, exposing some truly muscular bubble butts. The leather pouches were fully extended, just waiting for someone to squeeze them. A big, beefy ginger hulk sporting a chest full of ginger fur and two large gauge nipple rings swaggered up to me with the obvious line, "Haven't I seen you somewhere before?"

"Could be," I replied. "If you were showing more skin at Muscle Beach yesterday."

"Yeah, I thought so. But somewhere else, too."

"I've been around a lot — all over the world," I countered.

"I know I've seen you somewhere else. I couldn't forget that blond hair and blue eyes.

"You got a name?" I asked.

"Butch."

"I figured you were butch."

"You?"

"Hank."

"You horny, Hank?"

"That's my first name – Horny Hank. And I carry a full load right here," I said as I rubbed my package.

"You bottom?" he asked.

"Depends."

"On what?"

"Where I come from, we decide who tops and who bottoms on a wrestling mat. No holds barred. Loser submits totally to the winner. No — questions — asked."

"I like that," Butch smiled as he replied.

"Let me know where and when." I took a swig of my beer and turned to another guy who was standing by, listening to our conversation.

Butch didn't take too kindly to that and grabbed me by the arm, and growled, "Here!! Now!!"

"I don't see any mats," I said, still looking at the other guy.

"Back room, that door." He pointed to an open doorway at the back side of the bar. "Be there in five minutes, or you forfeit, and I fist fuck you raw."

"Oohh, that's different. Hadn't thought of that option. I'll keep it in mind," I turned my head to him with a salacious grin.

Arman and Jamal let the other guys know what was going on. They looked at me in shock. I nodded toward the back room, and we headed in that direction. Butch and some of his friends were already there. He took off the chaps and boots, leaving him with the leather T-bar and arm bands as his total covering. I stripped down to my micro-bikini and took my opening position.

Both hands raised, and arms stretched straight out, I was ready to grab hold of his arms. He took a similar position. Instead of circling, he started straight toward me at a fast pace. I raised my knee as he plowed into it with his groin. His momentum forced me backward, but his pain in the nuts forced him to his knees. I regained my balance, moved toward him, giving him a chop to both trapezius muscles with my hands. I moved around to his back as he started to stand up, and grabbed him in a Full Nelson, interlocking my fingers tightly. As he stood, he picked me up at the same time, trying to shake me off. My fingers would not unlock, so he stood there holding me on his back, unable to break the hold. He fell backward onto the mat, trying to jar the hold loose. But I managed to roll him over on his face. When I released the hold, I grabbed his arms to set up a camel clutch. Gripping his face, I pulled his neck back hard. He refused to submit. Then I went for the eye-gouge. He screamed like everything, although I was barely pressing on them. But he didn't know what I might do. I leaned my face over to his ear and said, "No holds barred, and no questions asked. Submit!"

"I submit!" he screamed!

"I didn't hear you."

"I submit! Get the fuck off me, shithead!"

"Do you submit to me completely?" I asked, slightly rubbing my thumbs on his eyes.

He hesitated, then hollered, "I submit – completely! Anything you want – Sir!"

I released the hold and helped him up while smiling.

"Kiss me, you fool!" I ordered him."

He leaned down for a hot, sloppy kiss. Then came back for more, letting his tongue get into the action. I returned the kiss, just as enthusiastic as he was. Our hands rubbed over each other's body. When my hands reached his hips, my thumbs reached around the strap to his T-bar and unsnapped it, letting it drop to the mat. His rock hard eight-inch, thick cock protruded from a mass of ginger, curly bush to an uncut tip. I reached over and rubbed my thumb over the flesh that had pre-cum dripping from it. Slowly, I slid the skin back until a huge mushroom shaped head appeared. I knelt in front of it, licking the pre-cum from it. Then took the bulbous head in my mouth, working my way to the base. I wanted to rub my face in that ginger patch surrounding his delicious cock base. He moaned as I slid all the way home, my nose rubbing side to side in the curly, red short-hairs. I started humming as my tongue slid sideways also. "California, here I come, ..." Then I worked my way back up to the crown. He grabbed my ears and held them firmly. `OMG,' I thought, `he's ready to cum.' His balls tightened, his cock filled out, and I backed off, flicked my finger on the balls, leaving him on the edge.

"You're not cumming yet, Red. I've got more plans for you." I stood up and motioned for him to also. He faced me, and I raised my hands for a test of Mercy. He grasped my hands, while I felt Jamal's influence on my own strength. We started the pressure on each other. I started to sink to the mat and Butch thought he had the upper hand. Then I felt more strength encompass my legs and arms, giving me the momentum to regain my supremacy. I stood up, put more pressure on his hands, forcing his knees to bend. Down he went on them, his face directly in front of my swaying, loaded cock.

"Suck it!" I ordered. "And suck it deep!"

He took my cock in his mouth, sliding all the way to the base, so my curly short hairs were rubbing his nose. He rubbed his tongue around the firm tube filling his mouth, making it slimier with his saliva. I began pumping down his throat and out to his lips, until I felt I was on the edge of ejaculation, when I pulled out completely.

I showed him my fist in his face and asked him, "You know where this goes next?"

He looked terrified. "No, I can't take a fist. I've never had anything that big up there. I'd need some practice first. Your cock would be good, but a fist would tear me up."

"Are you saying you want my cock up your ass, Red?"

"Yes, Sir, please, Sir. I want your big cock up my ass, please, Sir. I want you to rough fuck me with your big, hard cock, Sir."

Every guy in the room was eating this up! "Yeah, fuck him!" "Give it to him rough!" "He needs a load of cum in him!" "Hey, I'll fuck his face while you rape his ass!"

That gave me an idea. "Maj, come over here and pound his face and maybe we'll meet somewhere in the middle."

Maji laughed as he came around, pulling his monster erection out of his pants, waving it in front of Butch's face. Somebody handed me some lube, and Hassan gave me a condom from his pocket. I took some gel on a couple of fingers and greased up his tight red closure, forcing one, then two and finally three fingers to open him up properly. By this time, Big Red was engrossed with Maji's big, hard, cut cock. He worked on it like it was the best chew-toy in the world. Personally, I think it is!

I took aim on my target and said, "Open ..." Maji and I looked at each other in horror, then I said, "Wide!" And I plunged full force into the waiting orifice. He hollered when I reached full penetration, then backed out slowly. I started back in, gradually, but steadily pushing my way in. Again, reaching my full length, I held it there for a minute. When his ass muscles began tightening and releasing in rhythm, I went into the pumping phase. I could tell each time I passed over his hot spot because he made a gurgling sound I can't exactly describe — unless it was like gargling some liquid in your throat. While leaning on his buttocks, I reached around his waist to stroke his thick hard schlong with one hand. The other hand went to his nipple, which I pinched hard, then twisted and pulled by his nipple ring, increasingly getting rougher and rougher. Shortly, I switched hands and after a few minutes, I tortured both nipples. Several minutes later, I looked at Maji, who had an expression on his face like he couldn't hold out much longer. Red was pumping my cock with his ass faster, and I was about ready to shoot also. I let go of his nips after one last, brutal yank on the rings to increase the pressure of my pounding.

Maji blasted off first, filling his mouth faster than he could hold it. Then Red shot his load all over the mat, and that was when I came inside his ass until the condom was leaking around my groin. Red/Butch collapsed on the mat in all his profusion of cum, totally exhausted. There was cheering and clapping and hooting and hollering from the crowd around us. Most of them had their cocks out, either being sucked on or they were pumping themselves. Cum was spurting everywhere, on everyone.

Butch rolled over to stretch out on his back, and he had a huge grin on his face. Maji and I leaned over, giving him a sloppy kiss which he returned with some of Maji's ejaculate passed back to us. We helped him sit up, and he looked at me intently, and said, "Now I know where I've seen you. You're that blond guy on television, the one who's got an uncle or cousin or somebody who was a government official."

Looking in his eyes, I answered that with, "Not even close!" Maji and I cleaned up some with towels we were handed, dressed and went into the bar for a final beer. Hassan and Dildar had them ready for us. Several of the men wanted to chat, then when we finished our beers, I tossed a C-note on the counter for the bartender, shaking hands and thanking him for a great time, then left.

On our last full day in Southern California, we did something very touristy – since the previous week we toured many of the openly gay celebs homes, this time we took the StarLine tour of celebrity homes through Hollywood, Bel Air, Beverly Hills – all the glam areas of Los Angeles.

By the end of that day, we were all worn out. I wanted to have dinner some place where we might see some celebs, so our concierge got us a reservation at Morton's Steak House for 7:15 p.m. We deliberately arrived about ten minutes early. While waiting we saw several stars come through. I pointed out Julia Roberts as she and some friends walked by us. Tom Cruise had a couple of friends with him. Then it was time for us to be seated, not in a secluded area but where everybody else had to walk by us.

A few minutes after the waiter had taken our order and brought our drinks, Connie Chung and Maury Povich came in. I had met Connie early in my career and we locked eyes as she walked by. She stopped, saying, "Grant Richards? I guess we can expect to see you anywhere in the world!"

As I stood, I reached over for a "Hollywood Hug and Air Kiss," and replied, "Connie, the same goes for you."

"Have you met Maury?"

"No, but I feel like I know him from watching his shows. Maury, it's wonderful meeting you. My dad was a tremendous fan of your dad. Had to read Shirley Povich's column in the Post every morning."

"Grant, it's nice meeting you," Maury said as we shook hands. "That was a super interview with Dave. That was the last report I've seen from you."

"I came back to the states soon after that and brought my cameraman from Bagdad with me, Majid Mustafa, along with his cousin, Dildar Fadel, and Dildar's childhood best friend, Hassan Hassan. They're wrapping up a six-month visit." Each waved as I introduced him since we were in a circular booth and they couldn't stand. "We've been doing the tourist stuff, and head back to D.C. tomorrow. Just splurging tonight."

"Hope to see you back east sometime," Connie said before they moved on to their table.

When I looked at the guys again, they were grinning from ear to ear. "Happy?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah!" "You better believe it!" "Wow!" The comments all ran together.

We had gotten our salads when Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston walked by. They looked at us, smiled and said "hello" then went on. Hassan and Dildar sat there with their jaws in their salads. Maji looked at them and said, "Shut you mouths!"

Which they did.

Rob Lowe was with two ladies and another man. He smiled and nodded toward me and kept walking.

While waiting for our steaks to arrive, Anderson Cooper and another man were escorting Anderson's mother, Gloria Vanderbilt. Anderson recognized me and stopped to speak.

"How long will you be in town?"

"We're going back to D.C. tomorrow."

"Good to see you, Grant."

"You too, Anderson. Call me if you get to Washington. Real pleasure to meet you, Ms. Vanderbilt."

Several others looked like they might have recognized me and gave me a smiling nod and they walked by: Tom Cruise, Julia Roberts, Heather Locklear and her husband. Oh, I'm name dropping, sorry about that. But it is nice to be recognized by real celebrities, especially in front of your friends.

Maji and I were full by the time we finished our entrée, but the young guys, having hollow space in all three of their lower appendages were ready for dessert. The waiter's suggestion was too tempting to resist – Key Lime Pie. The others had never eaten any and I can never refuse it. So, Key Lime Pie it was for all of us. And well worth being stuffed to the gills.

On the flight back to D.C., I was thinking that the SoCal trip was a total success! I enjoyed it as much as the other guys did.

It'll be wonderful to sleep in my own bed tonight.

{Disclaimer: The celebrities mentioned above are part of the author's fantasy, therefore are included for entertainment purposes only.}

* * * * * * *

The next couple of weeks were taken up with the mundane business of negotiations for the land we wanted and reviewing the drawings that were being emailed to us of the building layouts and overall land use suggestions. In two or three months, we should be able to bring the architects back over to physically see the lay of the land, both from the air and on the ground. {A helicopter – not a flying carpet, Jamal!} We'll have the surveyor's measurements and can zero in on exactly where we will want to place each building and street.

The attorneys completed the federal and state requirements for forming a Close Corporation. Gerald Gaither Richards was listed as Chairman of the Board of Directors and Chief Executive Officer, Majid Yahya Mustafa was designated Chief Creative Officer and Creative Director, Hassan Faisal Zafir Hassan would hold the position Chief Personnel Officer, and Dildar Jumah Fadel was named Chief Security Officer.

A packet from Goldberg and Tyner, Attorneys, with purchase approval from the property owners {plural} for the various parcels of land we're interested in, as well as approval from the county for our planned development arrived by certified mail. Maji and I read what seemed like volumes of crap; but the summary from Goldberg and Tyner was much clearer. That includes "private dwelling, multi-occupancy apartments, video production offices and studios, restaurant and private nightclub facility (not within one thousand feet of any school or religious house of worship), acreage for a nine-hole golf course and garden space. All acreage not used for the above stated purposes shall remain in natural wooded or undeveloped land. Financing will be arranged privately, and the State and County will not provide any funding or incentives for purchase or development. Needed water will be taken from the Chattahoochee River and filtered to meet Federal, State and County standards. Waste water will be processed and filtered to same standards before emptying back into the Chattahoochee River. Electricity will be provided by solar energy, or Atlanta Gas and Light will provide both electricity and gas at buyers' expense. Other development costs will be developers' responsibility. Local, state and federal taxes will be at standard rate for stated types of development. Any further governmental approval will be discussed later. Request to include Buzzard Roost Island and/or Powers' Island in purchase is denied."

The only item we wanted added to the stipulations is that "no school or house of worship can be approved to be established within that thousand-feet space for as long as we operate our businesses on that site."

One afternoon at lunch, someone brought up the subject of street names within the complex. Then all of us started suggesting names – all starting with "Crystal or Rainbow." We temporarily agreed that the main divided road all the way from the entrance to the far end of the property would be "Crystal Rainbow Parkway." The most difficult would be short streets in the apartment complex of seventy-five apartments, and the clubhouse. We had discussed with the architect two options for the clubhouse: one, including all the business offices in the same facility, or creating an external duplicate across from it for just corporate offices. He seemed to favor the second choice. He suggested the clubhouse on the left of a divided hundred feet at the entrance with an entrance easy for the staff to get to, and the corporate offices on the right, so outsiders could reach it easily. Dildar suggested the main street that made a loop around the apartment complex be named "Crystal Rainbow Circle." The streets that led off that to fan out with other apartments take other descriptive names. "Crystal Court." "Rainbow Road." et cetera. – et cetera. – et cetera.

* * * * * * *

The next day was a Saturday, and my mobile phone rang about midmorning. It was Ethan Wilson, my BankAmerica Trust banker.

"Hello?"

"Good afternoon, Grant. It's Ethan Wilson, BankAmerica Trust. I hope I'm not disturbing any ballgame you're watching on the tele."

"No, Ethan, not at all. What can I do for you?

"We've got a bit of a sticky wicket here that I would like to discuss with you in private. I have an idea which I hope might be favorable to both of us and would appreciate it if I could have about an hour of your time next Saturday, if you could spare it."

"I gather you'd prefer to discuss this in person rather than on the phone, Ethan."

"Indubitably! I'll have a young man with me who has recently taken over your account. I've been promoted and transferred Majid's and your accounts to his care. He is extremely capable, and I want you to meet him. That's really all I can say at this time. I'll be very happy to give you full details when I see you."

"Of course, Ethan. I'd like to see you again and look forward to meeting this young man. Let me know when your flight arrives and do plan to stay with us here at the house."

"Oh, no! We won't impose on you. We'll get a hotel in Washington," Ethan argued.

"I won't hear of it. You will stay with us, and that's final. After all, it's my account we're talking about," I said chuckling.

"You're sure it won't be an imposition?"

"Of course not. Do you have a flight yet?"

"No, but I'll let you know when I get one."

"See you both next Saturday. I'm anxious to meet him."

"Until Saturday. Cheerio."

"Bye." I turned to Maji. "That was odd. Ethan Wilson, one of the bankers who handle our accounts, assigned them to a young man, but there is some internal problem and he wants to discuss it with us. They'll spend Saturday night with us. Ethan will let us know what flight they'll be on. We'll arrange to meet them at the airport and bring them here."

The following Saturday, Maji and I were at Reagan National by 2 p.m., parked in the hourly lot. We found the gate and using our press passes were allowed to go to the waiting area. Ethan recognized us as soon as we did him. He had a very good looking young man with him, about five-ten and had the stocky build of a gymnast or wrestler. We greeted Ethan and then he introduced his companion.

"Grant, Majid, I'd like for you to meet Scotty Jonas. Scotty is from Toronto. He got his bachelor's degree in accounting at Columbia and his masters from Yale. He's been with us for a couple of years and seemed to have a great future with the bank."

"Scotty, it's a great pleasure to meet you. Let's get you to the car because I want to learn more about you."

"Mr. Richards, it's a thrill for me to meet a television news celebrity, and Mr. Mustafa, I've admired your cinematography work for a long time. Photography has been a hobby of mine since childhood. I got my first camera when I was in Junior School and then a cinema camera when I graduated High School."

"The car's over here. Scotty, please sit up front with me so you can talk with all of us at the same time."

Ethan started the story of why they were here. "We had a bit of a shake-up at the corporate level a few months ago. I had sort of taken Scotty under my wing when he came to work for our department last year. So, when I learned I would be making a change, I assigned Scotty to your accounts, primarily because I thought he could handle it and they were good money-makers. I kept my name on them as supervising advisor, but they were his accounts. Then came the fly in the ointment. A woman, who has been at the branch for nearly as long as I have, was put in my former position. That was when she started to show her true colors. Oh, she's competent enough, but she is single, by choice I'm sure, and enjoys taking it out on good looking younger men. Scotty, would you pick up the story from there, please?"

"First of all, I do not care to be flirted with by older women, and she was constantly coming on to me. Everything she would say to me seemed to have a sexual undertone. I question whether she's truly interested in me or just harassing me because I don't hide that I'm gay. I passed my probation period with a positive review, and my accounts have prospered. My recent review from her was all negative. When I questioned her about some of the items she chose to review me on, she admitted she based it on what she expected of me over the next quarter rather than the job I had done the previous quarter. I was furious and refused to sign off on the report. That was when I mentioned it to Mr. Wilson — uh —Ethan." Scotty started to tear up. "Sorry, but when I think how she has treated me, I get more than angry. I just want somebody to fuck up the damned muffer bitch!"

"I read the review, and it's definitely unfair," Ethan added as he patted Scotty's shoulder from the back seat. "This is why I called you. Is there anything you can do to help him find something that matches his talents away from the banking industry? If I referred him to any of the financial institutions of our type, he would be required to wait several months before he could handle any accounts – there've been too many transfers recently where the account manager took the clients with him. The standard, everyday bank would start him as a teller. So, we're here to get your thinking on this situation."

A questioning look had covered Maji's face. Quietly, Ethan asked him, "What?" Maji asked, "Muffer?" Ethan replied, "Muff-diver? Dyke? Lesbian?" A smile of comprehension replaced the furrowed brow as Maji nodded his head.

"Scotty, I'm really very sorry that you would have been placed in such a situation. No one should have to deal with that sort of thing when all they want is to do their job the best they can. Ethan, do you remember our first conversation in your office?" I asked.

"Vaguely. We talked about your account and how we'd set it up. Was there something else?" Ethan commented.

"It had to do with a conversation you and Landon had at the cocktail lounge, which a friend overheard."

"Oh, my god, you don't think ..."

"Why would I not think that? A set-up with a plant to learn where the money is coming from."

Scotty genuinely looked puzzled but said nothing.

"No! No! I swear this is nothing of the sort. If you really believe that, then take us to the nearest hotel and we'll stay there until our flight back tomorrow. There is nothing farther from the truth. Scotty, what Grant is saying is that Landon and I questioned whether the two of us were being set-up for an exposé of our being gay and living together, sharing information between our employers. I swear to you, and The Almighty, that is not my intent."

"Mr. Richards, everything I told you is true. I just want a job where I'm not ridiculed and humiliated because I'm gay. If you don't believe me, then you won't trust me, even with your account," Scotty commented. "Please let me out and I'll get back home some way."

"Grant, give them a chance," Maji interjected.

"If I thought there was even a possibility of that scenario, I would have raised more questions before they flew all the way here," I countered. "Scotty, I do believe you — {I reached over and put my hand on his shoulder} — and I agree no one should be faced with that situation. We'll talk about a corporate position that I know is available for a CFO. The whole corporation is gay, and horny for a muscle stud with a hot bod and a baby face that could cause an iron rod to melt – regardless of how hard it is right now."

"Yeah, right! Some corporate board of directors is going to give a young fag some important position like CFO of their company. It's bullshit!"

"Scotty, I think he's serious," Ethan commented. "Let's play this hand out and we're here for the rest of the day and part of tomorrow until our flight home. What do you say?"

"Whatever," Scotty replied, unenthusiastically.

"What's the corporation, Grant?" Ethan asked.

"Crystal Rainbow. It's a close corporation. Gerald Richards is the Board Chair and CEO, Majid Mustafa is the Creative Director, Hassan Hassan is Chief Personnel Officer, and Dildar Fadel is Chief Security Officer. What the corporation needs is a Chief Financial Officer and Treasurer."

"How's this Gerald Richards related to you, Grant?" Ethan asked.

"He's so close to me he could be my twin brother – but he's my first name. Grant is my second name. We've just gotten clearance to buy land just west of Atlanta to establish a Crystal Rainbow complex. We need a financial expert to guide us through this – and he has to be gay – or at least bi."

"You're joking!" Ethan said.

Maji shook his head. "For real. We got the legal paperwork this week. So, we really need a financial whiz kid, who is sexy, brilliant, a hunk, and maybe even likes to wrestle. That's our second favorite pastime. We've been wondering who might be interested."

That got Ethan laughing and Scotty smiling. By that time, we were on Connecticut Avenue in D.C., passing the Avalon Theater on the left and Safeway Grocery on the right. As we progressed around the Circle, I pointed out some of the churches nearby. Then we were home. I U-turned at Bradley Lane and pulled in the front driveway – you know how it is with first-time guests, especially when they're hesitant about even being here.

Dildar and Hassan were at the door to meet us. Greta was fixing dinner. I introduced our guests to everyone; Greta went back to cooking, I showed the guests to our two-adjacent guest rooms and told them to come on down to the office when they freshened up. Dinner would be casual.

When they came into the office, we showed them the legal stuff about the incorporation and some of the drawings of the buildings from the architects.

"Do you believe us now, Scotty?" I asked.

He nodded his head. "I'm sorry. I just don't need to be body slammed anymore, and not be able to fight back."

I took him in my arms, giving him a big hug. "Scotty, lad, the last thing I would ever do is to deliberately hurt someone. I even try to make penetration easy."

Ethan and Scotty were both shocked, then laughed at my comment. "Maji, on the other hand, is pretty big, first time in." I opened the bar and asked what everyone would like to drink. Then our guests began to really relax and become chattier. Greta buzzed me when dinner was on the table, so we all went in to eat.

After dinner, Dildar and Hassan helped Greta with clearing the table and getting things cleaned up in the kitchen. The other four of us went to the basement to show the guests our workout area. They were amazed with the equipment and mats.

"House rules for wrestling, no clothing whatsoever, loser services the winner." That got their attention.

"Are you serious?" Ethan asked.

"Very much so!" I replied as Maji nodded his head.

Ethan and Scotty looked at each other, laughing.

"So that means that you two have an open relationship?" Scotty asked.

"Definitely!" Maji answered. "It's more fun that way. But it doesn't mean we love each other any less, it's just that after wrestling someone else, it's strictly sex. In bed with each other, it's much more than that."

"Wow!" Scotty commented. He adjusted his manhood inside his pants to be more comfortable as Maji proceeded to strip completely.

"If you want to be really comfortable, shed `em," I told him, as I removed my own clothes. "Ethan, Scotty, you're welcome to join us, observe – or whatever."

About then, Dildar and Hassan descended the stairs. "You didn't wait for us," Hassan complained as he pulled his shirt off.

Our two guests were standing at the edge of the mats with their jaws hanging open. Scotty began to take his shirt off, and Ethan sat in a chair watching him. Everyone else in the room glued on him as the young hunk stripped. Broad shoulders, biceps that curved into round masses of solid muscle and sharply defined triceps were obvious even with the shirt on. As it was pulled over his head, the washboard abs reflected the light and the deep cuts were emphasized by the distinct shadows. Scotty pulled off his shirt and his perfectly formed pecs returned to their natural full, rounded development with protruding nipples centered in large rosy-brown areolas.

"Oh, my gosh!" "Allah be praised!" "Oh wow!"

That was followed by one of my best wolf-whistles. Scotty laughed, then struck a double-bicep pose, a side-chest pose, then a most-muscular pose.

"You've done some competitions, haven't you?" I asked.

"Some. Never won anything, but that's life. It was fun, `though lots of work and discipline." He proceeded to take his shoes off and drop his trousers, revealing tighty-whiteys unable to hide an incredible tent mid-front.

"Take it off! Take it off!" began the chant and hand clapping. Scotty started flexing his quads, then swirling his hips, and teased lowering his briefs. First one side then the other, turning his back to us and revealing a pair of perfectly round bubble ass-cheeks. Then he pulled the briefs all the way down, revealing his manhood to Ethan before turning around to show the rest of us. Ethan was drooling.

"If I had known what I had in my office, I would never have called you, Grant. I'm taking him home for me and Donnie," he laughed. Scotty turned around to reveal — nine inches of rock hard, thick, uncut man-meat!

"O-M-G!" I gasped. "I submit! I submit NOW!"

Scotty started pumping it, hand sliding up and down the full length. Then he struck a pose, full erection straight out in front of that incredible body with biceps flexed, then a series of required competition poses, each one showing his flagpole waving in front of him.

"Okay, show-off, pick your punishment! You can have any of us you want to wrestle," I told him.

"All of you, sooner or later," the young muscle-hunk said as he looked over the four of us lined up in front of him. "Back in primary school, one teacher taught us a rhyme to help pick at random." He closed his eyes and counted off each of us as he said, "Wire, briar, limber, lock, three, geese, in a, flock, one flew east, one flew west, one flew over, the coocoo's, nest. O, U, T, spells, out, I, pick, YOU!" Presumably, he picked me at random to be his wrestling opponent.

The others moved off to the side and we stood facing each other. Scotty backed up a couple of steps and turned his back to me. `What the hell is he doing?' I thought. Then he did a back flip and landed face toward me, with his legs around my neck and his hard poker right in my face as I landed on my back with him on top of me in a leg-scissors head-lock.

"Submit?" he asked.

"Only if I have a broken back," I replied. I brought my legs up into a leg-scissors around his head, then rolled over with him on his back and me on his stomach. A huge cock was down my throat. I started manipulating the giant lollypop with my tongue, and lightly scraping my teeth over the giant wiener I was chewing on. Scotty took my joy stick in his mouth and began doing things to it that I had never dreamed of. Instantly, I got hard as he manipulated me side to side and up and down inside his mouth. He pulled his mouth off slightly, so his tongue could reach up and rub across the eye, lapping the leaking pre-cum around on the head. He worked his teeth lightly at the base of the corona, scraping over it back and forth, stimulating the sensation. Sometimes, we rolled on our sides.

Meanwhile, I was sucking on him with all the suction I could muster. I felt him swell up and expected him to shoot a load down my throat any moment. But he refused to release anything. He kept working my rod ways I didn't know possible until I couldn't hold it any longer. I shot volley after volley down his throat until I was drained of all I had. And still he held his load within him. He pulled off my shriveled remnant of manhood and asked, "Submit?" When I didn't say anything, he released his load – or maybe that was loads, because he sent at least four massive shots down my throat.

It was only then I lay my head back on the mat, released his head from my legs, and gasped, "I submit. Use me any way you want."

"Later, gator!" Scotty said. "You wore me out – in more ways than one."

Majid gave us each a hand and pulled us up. "So, you're a gymnast too? Any aerial work? Trapeze? Ropes? Poles?" he asked. "Sing? Dance? Act?"

"Just some musical theater in high school. I did perform the Winston Smith role in 1984 and The Artful Dodger in Oliver my senior year."

"What the fuck haven't you done?" Hassan asked.

"I haven't done any porn yet, but that's on my bucket list for some time in the next ten years," Scottie said with a smirk.

"We'll arrange that within the next year, my man!" Majid commented.

We got dressed and went back upstairs. All of us were exhausted from the excitement and exercise in the basement. We older folks decided we needed to hit the hay, the younger ones could do what they wanted. Ethan, Majid and I said good night to the others, and they said they would be up soon.

Hassan and Dildar took Scotty back into the office. My unobserved spy relayed what went on in there.

Dildar opened the conversation with, "Scotty, I hope you will take the job. You would be a big help with this project."

"Yeah, Scotty, we could certainly use someone like you to make this thing go well," Hassan added.

"That's why I would like to talk with you guys," Scotty replied. "Grant and Majid seem like great guys to be with and would be fair to employees."

"He would be fair. And he would respect the opinions of everyone. He is a news reporter and has always reported what he sees and the ways he sees them. If there was any editing of his views, it was done at the corporate level," Hassan said.

"He is not renewing his contract with GNN, so this will be his full-time work," Dildar added.

"How does he get his funding?"

Dildar and Hassan looked at each other. They both shook their heads. "We don't know," Dildar replied.

"It's just there when we need it," Hassan commented.

Scotty added thoughtfully, "It just appears in his account daily at the bank, and our records say it's in cash."

"That's something you'll have to ask him. If you really need to know that, he'll tell you sometime. It's not something we need to know," Dildar commented.

Scotty had a puzzled look on his face.

"Would that make a difference if you would take the job or not?" Dildar added.

"It might," Scotty answered. "Since you're Majid's cousin, what did you do in Iraq to qualify you for Chief of Security?"

"I was required to patrol the streets of my home town to make sure everything was okay. If I found something out of order, I would call my superiors for back-up and we would investigate. I would be part of the investigative team to follow through and clear up the irregularity," Dildar answered.

"Hassan, you're set up to be Chief of Personnel."

"And Resort Manager," he replied. "I spent several years working in hotels doing a variety of jobs and got to observe nearly every aspect of customer relations. I worked well with other employees and most of the guests. I don't have the finance experience that we need, and why we need you in that position."

"Then there's Majid. Where does he fit into the mix here?"

"Majid was Grant's cameraman in Iraq," Dildar clarified. "They hit it off from the start. By the time Grant's assignment was over, they both knew what they could expect from each other. Majid was on a shot the instant Grant would change the subject in his narratives. It was as if they were reading each other's mind. Or if Majid swung his camera to pick up some action, Grant was talking about it by the time the camera was focused on the action. It was uncanny how they worked together."

"And you have no idea where Majid is getting his portion of this investment?"

Dildar shook his head. "Not a clue, unless ..." Dildar suddenly had a coughing attack. At the same time, he heard Majid's voice whisper to him, `Qul shayyaan ean aljini.' [`Say nothing about jinn.'] Dildar grabbed a glass with some water in it and drank it. "... sorry, I need to learn not to swallow and breathe at the same time."

"Unless?" Scottie asked.

"Unless their network bonuses for being in a zone of military unrest was more than they spent, since all their expenses were covered. That's all I can think of," Dildar finished.

`Ghita' jayidan. `iinaa fakhur bika,' [`Good cover. I'm proud of you.'] Majid's voice whispered in his ear.

{Thank you, Arman!}

"How does the sister fit into all this?" Scotty quizzed.

"She's not any part of this at all. This house was their parents, where they grew up. They inherited it when the parents were killed in an auto wreck. Greta lives in what was their grandparents' cottage until they died. I think she will keep this when she marries, and Grant moves to Georgia."

"What kind of videos will Majid's production company do?"

"To begin with, when we're just getting established, Grant wants to recreate some of the great dance scenes from the old MGM musicals," Hassan replied. "He has talked about hiring members of the Atlanta Symphony as the musicians, and dancers from the professional dance groups around Atlanta."

"The studio will be set up like The Hall of Mirrors at Versailles, or Schonbrunn Palace in Vienna, or Lichtenstein Palace," Dildar continued. "The ladies will be in late 19^th century ball gowns, and the gentlemen will wear tails."

"Not the kinky ones that slaves wear up their asses while crawling around on hands and knees," Hassan interjected.

"There may be other types of dances with some changes to the sets, such as folk dances from different countries," Dildar added. "This will be the types of videos we'll produce here in the first year or two for general release. After that, we'll start releasing the types of videos we really want to do under a different production company name."

"And that is?"

Dildar and Hassan looked at each other as they answered the question.

"Muscle-men fuck-films."

"I'm sure Majid and Grant would agree to you being our first featured stud," Hassan added.

"Let's go to bed. You can join us if Ethan won't object."

"I'll wait until I'm on the payroll – if that happens."

* * * * * * *

Sunday morning, Greta outdid herself with a gourmet breakfast. She had the warming tray on the buffet for soft scrambled eggs with hot sausage crumbles, and waffles. Rio Red grapefruit halves were waiting for us on the table. When we got to the waffles, she had made eggnog waffles topped with powdered sugar and sprinkled with nutmeg. Our guys were signing to her that they were delicious.

The conversation got around to Scotty's decision on the position with our company.

"Anything else you would like to ask, or have you decided yet?" I asked.

"There are a couple of things I would like to discuss in more detail."

"Dil, Hass, why don't you show Ethan around the area, or take him downstairs and get him to — relax some." (Various reactions) "Give us an hour to go over some of the specifics?" Majid asked. `Maybe get more from Ethan about Scotty's work ethics and attitudes for us,' he mentally passed to Armand and on to his cousin and best friend.

"Sure," Dildar replied.

"Maybe after we get him – uh, relaxed downstairs, we could go over to the club and show him around their facilities," Hassan added.

"Sounds great," I commented. "Scotty, closed conference in the office?"

"Yes, sir!"

For the next hour, we went into greater detail about our plans for the company, his salary and extra perks he could expect, like a personal sports car, as well as use of a company car, company charge card, office in the complex complete with administrative assistant, either a room in the castle or an apartment to himself, and access to any of the guys he wanted as a playmate. I think what we were offering completely bowled him over. I handed him the contract that spelled out most of the items. It offered a generous starting salary, a signing bonus, and additional half-million bonuses paid annually to sign the five-year contract clause. He signed two copies on the so-called dotted line. Maji and I both signed the contract; Scotty took one with him and we kept one with us. Not only did we shake hands on the deal, but we had a strong group hug and Scotty did a couple of in-place back flips!

When the other guys got back from their tour, Scotty asked, "How much notice should I give `Myrtle Bitch' that I'm leaving?"

Ethan's reply was very interesting. "Give her a formal two-week notice, and don't be surprised if she tells you to clean out your desk and pick up your severance by the end of the day."

Dildar quietly said, "She is a bitch!"

"Thanks for the heads-up. Let me give you a hug here, so that we can remain businesslike there."

Ethan accepted the hug and replied. "You, Donnie and I will have dinner together one evening soon, so we'll stay in touch."

It was about time to head to the airport, so we loaded everyone in the SUV and headed out. We said our `good-byes' at curbside, thanking Ethan for the referral and "see you soon" to Scotty.

The next afternoon, we got the email, "Prediction spot on. Expect new CFO in a fortnight. Ethan."

* * * * * * *

Over the next couple of weeks, Maji and I closed on the property in Georgia, Goldberg and Tyner had gotten building permits, and arranged for nine – yes, nine construction teams lined up to work on the project. Two crews working on the resort, two on the castle, two on the club, two on the apartments, and one on the landscaping. The morning crew will start at 6:00 a.m. and finish at 2:00 p.m.; the afternoon crew will start at 2:00 p.m. and finish at 8:00 p.m. This being during "daylight saving time" will allow for each crew to put in about six and a half hours with half-hour for meal break. The landscaping crew will start on the garden area, constructing greenhouses for year-round production of veggies and flowers and cultivating the raised-beds, as well as laying out the streets. We arranged for the architects to meet us in Atlanta and look over the landscape, so any modifications could be made to their plans.

Kago Okafor, our South African architect who was responsible for the overall layout of the property, and I met with the surveyor who did our purchase survey. We showed him the revised blueprint Kago had drawn for each section, where the buildings will go and the street plans. He agreed to have it ready within a month. After that, we can get the bulldozers in to start digging for the foundations. We're under way!

While we were there, we found a very nice brand-new apartment complex that had all the features we might need for homes away from home. I leased eight three-bedroom units and two two-bedroom units for us to use while construction was going on. That would provide a bedroom for each architect and use of the master bedroom as the shared office, with room for two desks with file drawers and two drawing tables, leaving the living room, dining room and kitchen for what they were intended. The extra two-bedroom units, set up as bedroom and office, would be for any other people who might need to spend time there, like Maji and me or Dil and Hass. I also arranged for our construction teams to be housed at the Hilton Garden Inn to keep them happy while working for us and not fuck-up the job any more than necessary. This motel has a restaurant for breakfast and dinner, plus an indoor-outdoor swimming pool and an exercise room – if they don't get enough exercise on the job!

While in Atlanta, Evan Tyner recommended an interior designer to set up the apartments as we wanted them. I told him we wanted nice pieces, a step or two above Ikea and Sauder, but not as pricy as Ted Turner's wallet allows. These would be used for a year at most, then donated to the Salvation Army or Habitat for Humanity. He showed us through his books of medium priced pieces which looked nice as well as serviceable and would tolerate moderate wear. Queen beds fit nicely in all the bedrooms, with a dresser, a chest and a small, upholstered arm chair. A two-seat sofa, two arm chairs and side tables fit the living rooms. The dining area would have a round table with two leaves and six side chairs. Living room, dining room and bedroom windows would have light-darkening pull drapes {a/k/a blackout drapes} of similar design but each apartment would feature a different color theme. He would arrange for two sets of linens to start everyone out, making sure they were washed, the beds made, kitchen dishes and glasses, flatware, a couple of pots and skillets ready to be used. The four of us were very satisfied with what the decorator suggested.

We were back home when Scotty arrived. We brought him out to the house and set him up in the room he had used previously. He was obviously tired and rather stressed about all that had gone on the past couple of weeks. After dinner, Scotty asked if he could use the machines in the basement, so we all adjourned to the workout room. Dildar and Hassan seemed to be energetic and wanting to workout also. Majid and I just wanted to relax. The three young ones stripped and picked a machine to use. After a few minutes, each of them was becoming aroused with so much hot young meat flopping around on equally sexy bodies.

"Who wants to work out on the mats?" Scotty queried.

"Hell, yes!" was the immediate reply from both, as they stopped their machines and went to the mats.

"I meant one at a time!"

"Aw, the poor newbie is afraid to take us both on," Hassan said, with a patronizing tone.

"We promise we won't hurt you – much," Dildar added, also with a pathetic tone.

"You won't hurt me? Okay, maybe we could play around a little bit." Scottie sounded sarcastic.

He went for Dildar first, swinging him around for a "Father Nelson," which is a Full Nelson with a hard cock up the butt. Scotty's speed in putting him in the hold shocked Dildar. Hassan tried to get around to Scotty's back, but Scotty kept swinging Dil around to face Hass. Then Hassan shoulder-butted Dildar's stomach, pushing Scotty backwards, forcing him to turn loose the hold. Hassan moved around Dil and grabbed Scotty in a fireman's carry, picking him up off the floor into a suplex over his shoulder. Dildar had recovered from the gut buster and grabbed Scotty's arm and a leg as he lay sprawled on the mat and stretched them to one side with both feet extended against his side. Hassan immediately grabbed Scotty's other arm and leg and proceeded to call for a submission. Scotty resisted as long as he could, then submitted to the two Iraqi muscle studs.

"Scotty, are you okay?" I asked. "Anything hurt – beside your ego?"

"No. I'm just pissed at myself for not seeing that coming," he conceded.

"We'll be generous, Scotty Baby, and let you choose which one of us fucks your rear and which fucks your face," Hassan offered.

"You're shittin' me? Take both of you at the same time?"

The two guys standing in front of him were slowly rubbing their already engorged member before his face. Precum was evident on the tips of both huge appendages.

"Either one in each hole or you're welcome to try them this way," Hassan said in a very sexy tone, as he and Dildar leaned forward rubbing their seepage across his mouth and face.

Scotty licked his tongue out to taste both cockheads. "Can I have some lube?" he asked.

Majid got the lube, poured some on the waiting hole, and some on his fingers, first inserting one finger, then two and finally three thick fingers, stretching his hole as much as possible. Dil got a condom, inserted his tool into the latex protection, and then lubed up well. He took his place behind Scotty, rubbing his meat against the waiting ass. Slowly he started to penetrate, nodding to Hass who slipped his cock in the waiting mouth, drawing their victim's attention away from the simultaneous rear invasion.

Scotty moaned as both very adequate anacondas slid inside him. He started a rhythm of rocking forward and backward, double-fucking himself on two very hard rods. Dil leaned forward, wrapping his arms around his victim's magnificent chest to pinch his nipples erratically, alternating tempo and pressure. After several minutes, no one realized how close Scotty was to shooting his own load on the mat. Suddenly he froze, stopping the rocking motion and unloaded more cum than I thought possible. He groaned and moaned, almost to screaming with erotic pleasure. The drastic change in movement and the tightening of his sphincter triggered Dil's own release, and Hass increased his pumping until he couldn't hold back any longer, sending repeated volleys of cum down Scotty's throat faster than he could swallow. Scotty jerked his entire body, trying to swallow all the cum, which caused him to ejaculate even more. The reaction on his whole body tightened and relaxed the ass muscle, forcing Dil to pump even more into the condom and causing it to leak out the base around his short-hairs. Hass also convulsed with another volley of creamy cannon fuel all over Scotty's face.

All three muscle studs collapsed on the mat, unable to move for several minutes. Hass turned himself around, wrapping his arm around Scotty, as Dil also embraced our incredibly smoking new `family member.' Scotty was facing Dil, so their faces met for a deep, warm kiss after Dil licked some of the residue from his mouth. Then he turned to Hass as they replayed the gesture, with the rest of the joy-juice getting rubbed on his face.

"Worth the loss?" Hassan asked.

"More than worth it!" Scotty replied with a sheepish grin.

"Don't make a habit of it," Dildar said. "I'm not sure I'm up for the results — for another week."

Everyone chuckled, and a few minutes later, the combatants could stand, and clean themselves up from their exertion. We all exchanged full lip kisses, then headed upstairs.

* * * * * * *

A few days later, we got a courier envelope from the State Department. It was from Jim Guthrie in Bagdad, letting us know that Majid, Hassan and Dildar's authorizations to apply for United States citizenship had been approved and both the Senate and House had passed the bill to wave the five-year waiting period for their becoming citizens, reducing the waiting time to one year.

{Interruption here}

Shouts and jumping up and down and hollering must have been loud enough for Greta to hear because she came in to see what was going on. Okay, maybe she felt the vibration of this old house with all the jumping. She joined us in a toast to our new-citizen candidates.

There was a second page from Jim personally. He had applied for his retirement from the Federal government effective 30 June, the end of the fiscal year. He plans to come home and needs a job, so he asks if we have a position suited for him. Hmmm – he asked for a `position' rather than a `job.' Maybe he doesn't really want to work. So, I emailed him that the only job available was Custodial Supervisor here at the house, but to send his resumé and we would see what he's qualified for. We could use Jim as Corporate Counsel because he has a law degree but may not need to be admitted to the Georgia State Bar. It would be perfect for him. He would also interact with Marc Goldberg and Evan Tyner as needed and talk their language – in and out of the office.

He sent his resumé in the next courier. He's actually forty-five years old and has twenty-five years in Federal employment, having started as a clerk for an Associate Justice of the Supreme Court while in Law School at American University in Washington. He has been admitted to the Bars of Maryland, the District of Columbia, and the Supreme Court. He moved to the State Department when the Justice for whom he clerked passed away and has been with that department ever since. `He's a damn good looking and a well preserved forty-five-year-old. Hope I look half that good at that age!' I thought. `Jim could be a real asset if I can keep him and Howie apart. Howie, Washington – Jim, Atlanta. Works for me.'

I sent him an email thanking him for the resumé and told him we had looked over his qualifications and did not feel he would be suited for the job we have now. However, he should get in touch when he was settled at home and maybe something would be available then. I thought Maji would bust-a-gut laughing when I hit `Send' on the computer.

A couple of days later, I got a message from Howie, "Lunch tomorrow at Flanagan's 12:30." Wow! Command appearance! Must be something very important. When I walked into the Pub, I saw him seated in the private dining room. He stood, and we shook hands and hugged. When I was seated, he reached in his pocket and said, "I caught it!" He held up the engagement ring. I took a deep breath and let him continue when he wanted to.

"I'm not willing to be dictated to in my own home or denied access to my lifelong friends. She's a spoiled brat and her parents condone it. As Winston Churchill supposedly said, it is something up with which I will not put. She even tried to get the ring back after she threw it at me. She said she was keeping the wedding presents that had already been sent, but I told her she would be keeping them under false pretenses and could be sued. I told her parents that I hoped they would see she returned everything with a note of explanation. And I plan to let Mom and Dad's friends know the situation and to expect the return, and that they have my deep appreciation. Have I missed anything that I should do?

"Howie, you have done everything you should and more. I'm truly sorry in one respect, but I'm glad you realized the situation before it got any worse. I didn't want to be standing next to you when the minister asked if anyone knows any reason the two of you shouldn't get married. I might have needed to duck when I said, `I do!'"

That lightened the mood, and Howie mouthed the words, "Thank you" and signed it at the same time.

"You invited me for lunch, cuz, not just to cry on my broad shoulders. I want the corned beef plate with my Guinness."

Howie raised his hand to get the waitress' attention. When she came over, he ordered the same for both of us. Then he asked, "What's going on with you these days?"

I proceeded to tell him about the land we had bought and the construction that was beginning. I indicated that I probably would be moving to Georgia before the end of the year to run the all-gay project. I told him about hiring Scotty and considering adding Jim Guthrie to the mix. He just sat across from me shaking his head.

"Howie, I fully realize how you feel, but I feel very comfortable with this. You will be more than welcome to visit anytime you want to, but I will be back at home occasionally to see Greta and Robbie — and you. I would have asked you to be our Corporate Counsel but thought you would feel awkward about it. You will be invited to the grand opening weekend, but I doubt you will want to be there. In other words, I'd love it if you were there, but I won't be hurt if you don't show."

"I'll think about it – even if Guthrie is there."

"Speaking of ... Would you do me a `flavor?' He says he's retiring from the State Department with twenty-five years of federal service, including clerking at the Supreme Court. Could you do some background checks to see if this is a real, honest-to-god retirement, or a cover to infiltrate my organization? He's asked me for a job — well, not a `job,' a `position' with my company. He's very much qualified for the Corporate Counsel `position,' and he's gay, but I'd like to know more about his sudden `retirement.' What `cha think?"

"Oh, I'd love to investigate the sonofabitch! Even if it only gives me the names of everybody he's screwed. We'll have lunch again when I get a full dossier on him. I might even provide an oversized dildo to ram up his ass — oh, but he might enjoy that."

"Howie!" I commented, while bent double laughing. "I'll cover any costs you have on this ..."

"Oh, no! This is my pleasure and will take my mind off other things."

"Here's a copy of his resumé to start with. Let's see where it leads us. Thanks, cuz!"

"Oh, this will be fun!"

* * * * * * *

It was July 4^th, Independence Day, with lots of celebrations going on around the country. The Chevy Chase Club had its own party, and the Deaf Club had their party. The guys and I made it to both. Dinner and a few drinks next door with some old family friends, then over to the Deaf Club to be with Greta, Robbie and their friends for a while.

The next day, we were hanging around the house, dressed very casually in shorts and tanks, when Jim called from his family's home in Hyattsville. He wanted to come over, which was fine with me. He arrived about an hour later. When he came in, everybody greeted him.

"Jim, I'd like to introduce our newest family member, Scott Jonas. He's come on board with us in a financial capacity, since his career has been in banking."

Scotty shook his hand, saying, "Jim, it's an honor to meet you."

Jim took Scotty's hand in both of his, saying, "Oh, my god, I'm in lust! It's a real pleasure meeting you, Scott!" {I was sure I saw Jim use his `social finger' to scratch Scotty's palm; I thought that was passé.}

"Jim, come on in the living room. What brought on this retirement crap at your age? You're supposed to work until you're at least sixty."

"I'm tired of travelling the world. I'm tired of bureaucracy. I'm tired of dealing with all the shit that goes on in government. I just wanted out. But most of all, I just want to be myself. Having to play it straight with all those hot Marines around exuding testosterones and pheromones and not being able to do anything about it, had gotten to me. Then I met you guys and realized there's more to life than a fancy top rank government job. When I learned you two had quit at GNN, I realized I needed to find another route to take. So, here I am, wanting to join you in your venture, whatever it is."

"Well, Jim, I hate to tell you, all the top positions are already taken with our organization. But we do have some availabilities for bottom positions."

Everybody looked at me, then realized the double entendre, and even Jim burst into laughter. I thought Scotty was going to roll on the floor.

"You S.O.B. I'll have you on the bottom in no-time."

"You'll have to get through Scotty first. He's the new guy who will be auditioning all the wannabees. But we'll get to that later. Right now, I want to discuss what we have available in the company and where you could best be used," I told him.

"Sounds good," Jim replied.

"At the corporate level, we need Counsel, namely someone with knowledge of law, procedures, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. At the daily operations, we need a General Manager for Operations. Hassan will be handling Personnel matters — or HR, as they now call it — and managing the resort. Dildar will oversee all security issues. Scotty will be responsible for all finances. Majid, of course, will run the video production aspects. And I will lie around and give all the employees cock-sucking lessons. What would you say to coming on board as our Corporate Counsel and General Manager for Operations, Jim?"

"I noticed you skipped the club and restaurant operations. Who will be responsible for that?" Jim asked.

"That's where the cock-sucking lessons will be held," I replied. "So that will be my responsibility. Hassan and I will work together on scheduling the bartenders, dancers, DJs, chefs, waiters, barbacks and busboys. Hassan will deal with the staff at the resort, including front desk, bellhops, cleaning, dining, and lifeguards. He'll also assign all housekeeping duties for the entire facility. Majid will be responsible for all jobs at the production and recording studios. The General Manager will control all maintenance issues for the entire facility, landscapers, gardeners, and the apartment complex. Any questions so far?"

"Not yet," Jim replied. "But there may be some later."

"At the entrance to the apartment complex, on the right side, will be the main offices for everyone. Behind it, on the first side street, will be the clubhouse, dance studio, fitness center and swimming pool. This will be for staff use only, and there will be a supervisor on duty twenty-four, seven. Across the road from the offices and down that side street, will be luxury apartments designed for senior staff members – if you want to have ultimate privacy. Scotty, and you, Jim, if you decide to join us, will have the option of a room in the castle with Maji and me. I emphasize it's an `option,' totally your choices.

"If you do choose the castle, we'll have an indoor-outdoor pool with hot-tub, fitness center, and orgy room where you can see underwater of the indoor pool. There will be a staff of a dozen guys specifically for castle services. A chef, a maintenance man, a housekeeper, an auto mechanical engineer, a groundskeeper, and a security specialist. Each of these supervisors, mature men of thirty plus, will have a young assistant, in their twenties, to help in their area.

"There will be a sous chef, a general handyman, a housekeeping assistant, an auto assistant, a floral decorating specialist, and a computer whiz to help their supervisor. If necessary, the younger men will be enlisted to help in other areas around the castle. Most will have chauffer's driving licenses, so any could be enlisted to pick up guests at the airport or drive anyone anywhere needed. This group will live in an adjacent dorm over the garages. They will be available to us 24-hours a day – for whatever we need – or maybe `want.' All castle facilities will be available to all castle residents and senior staff at any time.

"However, if you choose to have one of the luxury apartments, as Dildar and Hassan have, the clubhouse facilities will be available 24-7 across the street. Resort housekeeping staff will be available for weekly cleaning, but you will take care of your own cooking and kitchen chores, grocery shopping, and personal laundry."

"Holy shit! You hadn't told me about that!" Scotty remarked.

"WOW! Are you tempting me to come onboard?" Jim asked.

The four of us shook our heads. "They're the facts. Just the facts, man," I replied in my best Jack Webb monotone. "It's your decision sometime in the next month."

Greta had spent the day with Robbie and his family, so had left a variety of salads, cold cuts, cold tea and lemonade, and a key lime pie in the fridge for us. Jim stayed to eat with us and to get to know Scotty much better. We let our supper settle, talking on the front porch for a while.

"What's this `audition' that Scott's supposed to conduct?" Jim asked.

"It has to do with how well you would fit into the group that will be the close corporation. We'll work together and get to where we almost think along the same lines. How well we get along in all situations. I did a preliminary audition and Scotty overwhelmed me. Then Dildar and Hassan conducted the full audition and he passed with flying colors. Scotty, when would it be convenient for you to do the honors?"

"Anytime, boss. I'm up for it anytime."

"Jim, when would you have an hour for an intense session with Scotty?" I asked.

"Shit, now's as good a time as any," Jim replied.

Scotty stood up. "Jim, let's adjourn to the basement."

"The basement? What the fuck's going on? What's in the basement beside the workout stuff?" Jim asked.

"The audition mats," Scotty replied. "Let's go!"

"We're going to wrestle?" Scotty nodded his head. "Hot damn! Let's go! I love auditions like this!" Jim added.

The rest of us followed them to the basement. As spectators, we kept our clothes on, while Jim and Scotty stripped naked. Both of them had sprouted woodies. Jim asked to use the facility before getting started. When he came out, Scotty followed his example, and returned shortly.

They faced each other on the mat. Scotty went into his stationary forward flip, like he used on me. This time Jim was ready for him because of his advanced martial arts training. He grabbed Scotty's legs as they wrapped around his neck, and rather than falling backward, as I had done, Jim leaned forward, taking Scotty to the mat with the older man on top of the gymnast. It knocked the wind out of the younger man, so Jim could sit up with his bare ass on Scotty's head.

"Have I passed the audition?" Jim asked.

"That's round one," Scotty tried to say while his face was pressed into the mat.

Jim helped him up. "What's next? This is fun!"

"This is round two out of three," Scotty announced. "Ready?"

"Always!" Jim bragged.

Jim and Scotty locked up, but Scotty dropped his arms as he leaned over, slamming his shoulder into Jim's midsection, knocking the breath out of him. Then Scotty grabbed Jim's leg to push him off balance, but Jim clasped his hands, bringing them down sharply on Scotty's upper back, knocking him to the mat. Jim could have gone for the pin right there, but he gave Scotty some time to get his wind.

When Scotty got his breath he asked, "Why didn't you pin me? You just enjoy beating me up?"

"Well, that and I like the feel of your body against mine," Jim replied. "You ready to finish this round?"

"Yeah!" Scotty said as he dove for Jim's legs.

But Jim side stepped, and Scotty landed on his face again. This time Jim straddled him. But Scotty began to buck his body to get Jim off. He rolled his hips side to side, kicked his legs, but Jim held him down. Scotty quit resisting briefly and Jim slid his legs back, so he could rest his erection on Scotty's bubble butt. Jim raised himself a bit off Scotty to aim his cock into the cleavage of the steaming young sex god. This gave Scotty the leverage he needed to slide his slick, incredibly strong legs out from under the bigger man and locking them around his opponent's head. He flipped himself over, taking Jim with him.

The young man quickly straddled the older, pinning Jim's arms above him on the mat with his knees, just so his erect cock was slapping Jim in the face. Scotty took hold of his own massive manhood and tried to force it in his victim's mouth. Then he reached around to assault the fallen ex-federal officer's exposed family jewels, squeezing them just enough to get a reaction. Jim opened his mouth enough to gasp and Scotty rammed his huge cock down his throat.

Jim began sucking the monster meat, relishing the rewards of losing this round.

"Don't move!" Scotty ordered Jim. Jim nodded in agreement. Scotty turned over to do push-ups over Jim, and at the same time, take Jim's engorged mega-meat in his mouth. "First one to cum, loses the third round," Scotty declared.

Jim just mumbled, "uh-huh." Then he doubled his efforts to get Scotty off.

Scotty began manipulating Jim's manhood with his tongue. Rubbing it all over, while alternating lightly pumping it in and out of his mouth and sucking hard on it.

Meanwhile, Jim became more and more antsy. He was breathing heavily while increasing the pressure on Scotty's fully engorged cock. At the same time Scotty was playing with Jim's joy stick, pulling the nectar of the gods closer and closer to eruption. Then Jim began bucking his hips, forcing the emissions all the way down Scotty's throat.

What seemed to us like ages, Jim collapsed on the mat. He couldn't suck any more, and Scotty had not yet spouted, thus winning the final round. When he pulled out of Jim's mouth, he was only half hard, although fully engorged. He didn't seem to be truly aroused by the extraordinary blow-job Jim had given him. None of us could believe how he had held back so long.

"Scotty, how the hell could you keep from coming after all that time?" Hassan asked him.

"It wasn't easy. I had to imagine I was fucking that cunt I used to work for at the bank. That was a real turn-off!"

The rest of us couldn't contain our guffaws.

* * * * * * *

One morning the next week, Jim picked up Scotty to play a round of golf at Congressional Country Club, where his family had a membership. The rest of us took the opportunity to get an update from Jamal and Arman on the development of the staff for the project. They had at least one man from every country or area in the world.

"How are the Munchkins doing?" I asked, getting weird looks from everyone, including the jinn. "The little guys – the midgets."

"We have the six midgets – one from Ireland, one from Scotland, both with flaming red hair; one from Japan and one from Nepal; and two pygmies – one from Cameroon, and one from the Indian Ocean islands," Jamal replied. "They are all developing nicely."

"Because they are small in stature, they look strange to have normal size human male appendages," Arman added. "The four male-females are very interesting when you see women's breasts and vagina plus a nice size male appendage. I have a question."

"Yes?"

"Can they fuck themselves?" Arman asked. "And give themselves children?"

The rest of us looked bewildered at the idea, then we laughed. "I don't know, Arman, but I'll bet Jamal could fuck her at the same time she fucks you!" That got everyone laughing. "And still have room for a Dildar – I mean a dildo up her ass!"

"I'm game!" Dildar commented.

Maji added, "You're game for anything that has sex involved, horn-dog."

"You've got that right," Dil replied, laughing.

Jamal continued. "There are six big, tall men who are our height and size as you see us now {indicating Arman and himself} who are being trained in security measures. They appear to be in their early thirty-year-old range. They are well trained in all martial arts, and each has earned advanced black belts in three. They have minimum of red belt in all other forms of fighting."

"Do they match your size — all over?" Dil asked, wiggling his eyebrows and looking straight at their midsections.

"You can decide when you meet them," Arman answered, jokingly. "That might be part of your first interview."

"They are also very good with computer," Jamal inserted. "All security men, not just the big ones but smaller ones are very good on computers and are trained in martial arts. They are not just fighters – they like to sing and have very good voices. Two of them have very deep bass voices; they also have big balls!" That got a good laugh. "Three have mid-range baritone voices, another is a tenor, and another is a true counter-tenor." That got puzzled looks from Dil and Hass. "His voice is very high, in a woman's range," Jamal explained. "The assistant security men are bigger than most of the other men. The smallest is six feet tall and weighs two hundred ten pounds – all muscle."

"And a big dick?" Hassan asked.

"Big as yours," Arman answered. "I hope you can take it, because he could put you down in a second – unless he wanted to play with you first."

"As long as they can handle Scotty and Jim, I'll be happy!" Hassan replied. "I guess they're very strong and agile, right?"

Both jinn nodded their heads vigorously.

"Tell us about the dancers," I suggested.

"The forty dancers range in appearance from twenty-one to thirty-something," Jamal continued. "The older ones are primarily choreographers. All of them have experience with every type of dance known, from all areas of the world and all eras. They are gymnasts and acrobats and can work a pole like you wouldn't believe. All are wonderful singers of all types of music too, with voices ranging from bass-baritone to counter-tenor. They can hear a song or see a dance step once and they've got it in their repertoire."

"They are also versatile on several musical instruments," Arman continued. "They love to improvise a song and can take a piece written by a man named Bach or Mozart and improvise on it to sound like what is called Dixieland Jazz. They hope to record the music used in all of the club's shows; including the regular strip shows for each dancer."

"These men are in the five feet nine inches to six feet tall and weigh one hundred sixty-five to one hundred ninety-five pounds of muscle," Jamal continued. "Their cocks will measure from eight to eleven inches when fully erect."

"Yes, Hassan and Dildar, you will have the opportunity to try them all out when you meet them," Arman commented, and everybody laughed.

"One thing you will want to know about all of the staff members," Jamal continued. "Their pre-cum will have an anesthetic effect and their semen an antibiotic-antiviral effect on all their sex partners. They can have unprotected sex with anybody, and the partner will become immune to any sexually transmitted disease, whether oral or anal contact with the semen. All of the men will be sterile but can produce unbelievable amounts of semen every half-hour. They will have control over their arousal, but once aroused, they will remain erect until they ejaculate."

"You mean, they'll stay hard until they shoot off, no matter how long it takes?" Dildar asked.

"That is correct, young master," Arman answered. "You can play with his dick until he gets hard and he will stay hard until he ejaculates a load of his semen. But if he can mentally control his erection until he allows it to grow, it won't happen unless he loses control."

"You'll probably shoot off half a dozen times before you could get one of these guys to lose it," Maji teased his cousin.

"All these men have been taught to be very sensuous and to arouse anyone who is having sex with them," Jamal stated. "Their pheromones are very powerful to attract the customers, both male and female. They can cause dry orgasms in both men and women by being in the same room with them. They can cause full release orgasms from physical contact with the person, such as a five-minute lap dance."

"I can't wait until Jim and Scotty meet these guys," Hassan said.

"I can't wait until I meet these guys!" Dildar countered.

"You're not by yourself, cuz!" Maji agreed.

"The waiters and bartenders are another group with special talents – their memories," Jamal continued. "They can remember every customer and their food and drink preferences. Not just all evening, but seeing the member their next visit will trigger their order from their last visit. If the member has food allergies, this will be stamped in their mind along with the member's name. Both groups will be between five-foot-ten-inches and six-foot-two-inches, weighing 180 pounds and 220 pounds. All will be natural bodybuilders, with impressive bulges in their pants. They also can recognize someone who has drunk too much and will add an ingredient that Arman has created in their drinks to neutralize the alcohol effect."

"What about the busboys and barbacks?" I asked.

"They are the youngest of the men who look to be eighteen to twenty, but will be twenty-one and twenty-two years old," Arman answered. "They are ones who might be called `twinks.' They are shorter than most at about five-foot-nine-inches to five-foot-ten-inches and will weigh about 165 to 170 pounds. They have great definition and well-developed musculature. Their jobs can be interchanged, but when `bar-backing,' they will carry their prominent feature showing through their pants all evening. They have been told to rub against the members for stimulation to both."

"All-l-l-l-right!" Dil and Hass gave their fist-pumps!

"When they are working upstairs in the diner, they'll just show bulges like the waiters, right?" Majid asked.

"Yes, Master!" Arman replied. "The bartenders will show erections in their pants to tantalize the customers too. They will be able to mix perfectly any drink anyone asks for. If the customer asks for an unusual drink, like a `Brass Monkey,' they can look up the recipe in their head and serve it to perfection."

"What about an original concoction like a "Funky Brass Monkey" which I created one night several years ago?" I asked.

"They would ask you for the recipe and then have it available for you every time you visited," Arman answered. "What is that recipe, Master?"

"Substitute red or pink grapefruit juice for the orange juice. It makes it kind of `funky!'"

"From now on, when you meet any of our bartenders, you will be asked if you want your `Funky Brass Monkey!" Arman told me, smiling. I grinned back as I nodded.

Jamal discussed the food service staff and their training. "The men who have the most interest in food service are being trained in the top culinary schools in the world. They are enrolled in one or two classes at each of the schools to get a variety of cooking methods and preparation techniques. There are also classes in food service management and hospitality essentials. There will be six who finish as Top Chefs, six who will finish as either Sous Chefs or Pastry Chefs. Another six will be trained the same as the others but have not been as enthusiastic about becoming la crème de la crème. They will be line cooks. Six others have finished as top of their classes in food and hospitality services. They happen to be the six hermaphrodites whom we had planned to use as hosts or hostesses in the dining rooms of the resort and club."

"I guess we'll have to call them `greeters' and be non-gender-specific," I remarked.

"Very astute, Master," Jamal replied.

"Would we recognize any of the culinary schools by name?" I asked.

"Some yes and some probably not," Arman answered.

"All of them started with basic studies at the new Johnson and Wales School in Charlotte, North Carolina, which will be convenient to Atlanta if additional training is needed. You probably know Le Cordon Bleu in Paris where they worked on cooking and hospitality. They took advanced hospitality studies at OIAC in Valencia, Spain. The other schools where they have studied include Ecole Lenâtre in France, Hattori Nutrition School in Tokyo, Academia Barilla in Parma, Italy, Tante Marie School of Cooking in Surry, England, and Savour Chocolate and Patisserie School in Australia."

"Oh yum!" Dildar commented.

"Oh, double yum!" Hassan added.

"No Belgian chocolate?" Maji asked.

"The school in Australia imports Belgian chocolate for their students to work with," Jamal explained.

We continued our discussion about the staff's special talents and how their development is progressing until Jim and Scotty got back from their golf match.

* * * * * * *

The end of July, the six of us headed down to Georgia to meet up with the architects, check on the progress of the construction, and to introduce our new members to our legal team. Despite the proximity of Hurricane Dennis, the progress was incredible! The steel structures were all in place and the concrete was setting. The streets had been scraped and marked, ready for the gravel layer. Water and sewers lines were being laid along with gas and electric lines. The private filtration system from the Chattahoochee to the project was up and running tests, pumping the filtered water back into the river. Later, it would be converted to the cycle throughout the entire complex.

Most of the architects had gone home because their part of the work was at a standstill. The ones who were still in Atlanta were glad to see us and meet our newest guys. I made an appointment with Goldberg and Tyner Lawyers for Jim, Scotty and me while Maji, Hass and Dil gave the construction a thorough examination with Kago Okafor, the South African who had laid out the overall plan.

One of Kago's prized accomplishments was the vegetable and flower garden areas. Gigantic greenhouses were spread over the farming area and each was filled with raised-gardening sites for countless varieties of vegetables, fruits and flowers. He had contacted the owners of Back to Nature Gardening near Douglasville and found local plants and a great selection of veggies and fruits from every part of the world. Each was in a greenhouse with soil and climate native to their home countries. There were nearly endless kinds of flowers from the world over growing in other areas too.

Kago had arranged for one of the company's horticulturists to oversee the entire project, which included landscaping the various areas. A three-tiered planting strip lined the entrances to all the facilities. Shrubs and groups of flowers would bloom in their own season and be changed as needed by our gardeners. The big fishing pond between the Palace and Maji's studio was accented with three Weeping Willows, five Mimosas and three Magnolias. Pink and white Dogwoods were clustered around the entire area. A pier stretched out to a gazebo in the middle of the water.

While driving to our meeting with the attorneys, I gave Jim and Scotty a rundown of Maj's and my first meeting with Goldberg and Tyner. That included the disastrous ending to the day. Scotty was outraged while Jim seemed to just absorb the information. When we got to the office, the receptionist greeted us.

"Good morning, Mr. Richards. It's nice to see you again."

"Good morning, Betty. It's always delightful seeing you," I replied.

"I'll let Mr. Tyner know you're here." She spoke on the phone, "Mr. Richards and two other gentlemen are here for their appointment. {pause} He'll be right out."

Evan came out to greet us and usher us into the Conference Room. He told the receptionist to `hold our calls.' Sounded like Marc would join us in the meeting.

He was waiting for us in the Conference Room.

"Grant, it's a pleasure seeing you again," Marc said.

I introduced Jim and Scotty. Jim shook his hand, saying, "Marc, it's been a long time since Jerusalem. Looks like you've been doing well."

Evan and I stared at them with our mouths open wide enough to swallow Marc's huge schlong, not knowing they knew each other.

"Jim Guthrie! It's been, what, ten years, at least?"

"Spot on, Marc!" Jim replied. "You've done well for yourself. I'm glad you were able to get back to the United States." They both laughed.

Marc explained his passport had been lost in Jerusalem, and Jim retrieved it while stationed at the Consulate there. We started to sit down at the conference table, when Jim asked, "Marc, may I speak to you in your office, alone?"

Everyone looked shocked as Marc nodded and walked toward the door, with Jim following. The three of us just looked at each other with a "What the hell ...?" expression on our faces. Jamal whispered to me, "I'll tell you later what they say." Evan and I chatted about the growth of the corporation, and he asked about Scotty's background. After about ten minutes, Marc and Jim came back in.

"That was a quick blow job!" Scotty commented. "You both must have been ready."

"No, we just talked about how Marc has a knack for blowing things himself," Jim replied.

I thought Marc would choke; he turned red, purple then blue and back to purple. He sat beside Evan and almost cowed beside him. He spoke rarely except when something was really pertinent, and he barely looked at any of us.

Jim virtually took over the meeting, grilling Evan like a prosecutor grilling the lead defense witness, clarifying nearly every part of the paperwork their firm had prepared for us. Then he went on to ask about establishing some "d/b/a" groups for the video production aspect, another for the resort and still another for the club and grill. He got an excellent handle on Georgia law for developing the subordinate organizations.

Scotty and I mostly observed and absorbed the kind of Corporate Counsel Jim would be. Scotty did get a chance to quiz Evan about recommended methods for setting up the financials to get the best advantages under Georgia law. Evan invited us to have dinner with Marc and him, but we declined, asking for a "rain check."

When we returned to the apartments, we went to our separate units. Majid was stretched out on the living room sofa munching on some Cheetos and guzzling a Bud Light. As I leaned over to kiss him, he stuck a long, fat Cheeto in my mouth.

"Cheeze!" I mumbled. "I wanted a kiss. Fu'get that! I'm going to get out of these clothes and see if that gets me a kiss. Even a beer-flavored kiss is better than a cheese-flavored missed one!" I stomped into the bedroom, stripped completely, then went to the bathroom to take a leak. After shaking thoroughly and washing up, I went back into the living room. Maji had put the munchies away and had two fresh Bud Lights for us. I got my kiss, which included a mouth-full of beer that he shared with me. He took another drink from the can, dropped to his knees, grabbing my semi-erection and slid my protrusion into a mouthful of beer. Maji then swallowed the beer and kept tonguing what was left and growing. My knees started to buckle, so I knelt down too, forcing Maji to lie down on the plush pile carpet. I continued to stretch out until we looked like we were modeling for the Pisces logo. Neither of us was in any hurry to complete our mutual pleasure. But eventually, as the old say goes, all things must cum to a climax — or something like that. Maji turned around for us to share our pleasure with each other.

That's the kind of kiss I really wanted!

We showered together, although Maji had showered before I got back. Then we stretched out on the bed together.

"How'd it go with the lawyers?" Maji asked.

"V-e-r-y interesting." I replied. "It turns out Jim and Marc knew each other from ten years ago in Jerusalem. Marc was visiting family, and Jim was assigned to the Consulate. Marc lost his passport, so they met that way."

"That is interesting."

"Well, what happened next is more so. Jim asked to speak with him privately in his office. For what went on in there, we need to ask our ever-sneaky spy."

"Jamal?" Maji asked.

"Jamal!" I called for him to appear.

"I'm coming, Master!" Jamal said, as he and Arman appeared. Arman was on his knees receiving the fruits of his labors and Jamal was holding his head while spouting like a firehose.

Maji and I just looked at them, spellbound. Jamal pulled out of his lover's mouth, still dripping. Arman swallowed quickly, then stuck his tongue out to get the last drop. He must have taken in air too, because he let out the belch to end all belches!

Maji looked at me, smiling. "He really enjoyed that!"

"Obviously," I replied, sarcastically. When the two jinn had recovered from their marathon reunion, I offered them a seat on the foot of our bed. "Jamal, what went on this afternoon between Jim and Marc?"

As in the Bahamas, Jamal recreated the scene for us.

* * * * * * *

Jim followed Marc into his office, where the two grabbed each other in a big hug and kiss. "It is really great seeing you. You're looking super, man!"

"You are too, Jim," Marc replied. "How did you get hooked up with Grant?"

"I got reassigned to Bagdad when the Embassy opened back up. Then Grant was assigned to Bagdad by GNN, and we met when he wanted to bring Majid and the other two over here. So, he came to me for the documents to clear the way for them to be here. Congress passed special legislation to allow them speedway clearance to citizenship. Grant has connections with Senator Staunton of Maryland and his blubber-assed son, Junior. They're thick as thieves."

"Who's financing this operation down here?" Marc asked.

"They've got some unlimited mega-bucks coming in regularly. I don't know where it's coming from – yet, but I'll find out sooner or later, even if it's from the snot-nosed kid playing finance advisor. He doesn't know anything yet."

Marc nodded in understanding.

"But how the fukkin' hell could you blow the relationship you could've had going with Grant and Majid? You refused to suck a cut cock that looks like Majid's? If it had been uncut, I could understand it, but a circumcised cock? Really now ..."

"I don't know what happened. I just freaked at the thought. It was too much for me to deal with at the time," Marc tried to explain almost in tears.

"Okay, wuss, get your fukkin' shit together and let's go back in. You'll be dealing with me from now on, so let's get this project back on track," Jim assured him.

* * * * * * *

"WOW!" Majid said. "Jim can be a real sonuvabitch when he wants to."

"Probably why he's been so successful, he's adaptable," I responded. "We need to be very careful of him to make sure he's really playing on our team. He knows his business and will be good for the company in that respect. But does he have a secondary goal that could be detrimental to us? We need to keep a close eye on him."

"We already know he's planning to use Scotty for his own purposes. I think Scotty is sincerely looking to do a good job for us, but may be too trusting," Maji added. Looking at the `big guys,' he asked, "Is there some way or do you guys have some special contacts who could keep a lookout on those two until we get this project running itself successfully?"

"One or two more jinn to watch them? Or would you like for us to take turns watching them?" Arman asked.

"Whatever works the best – and most efficiently. What would you suggest?" Maji asked.

Jamal spoke up. "There is a possibility we could take Dildar and Hassan back to the cave, have them open it, look for a pair of matched bands ..."

"Maybe even cock-bands!" Arman interjected, while wiggling his eyebrows.

"... which would provide extra help, and they could be back-up as needed."

"I fully realize we've put a lot on you two. With all we've got going on, do you need some extra help?" I asked.

"Master, we are here to do your bidding and will continue to do that to the best of our abilities," Jamal replied.

"You're evading my question, dear friend. Would two more jinn be of benefit to you?"

"And would you be able to control them if we let them lose in the world?" Maji added.

"Master, we would be able to guide your young men to other jinn as Jamal guided you to me," Arman answered.

"To answer the question, I read in your mind. Yes, young Dildar and Hassan are sufficiently mature, responsible and honorable to be worthy of a jinni of his own," Jamal stated.

Maji and I smiled at each other. "Okay, we'll consider this until we get back home," I commented. "Then talk with them about it and take it from there. Now, let's get everyone together and have dinner. I want some of Bones of Atlanta's outstanding French onion soup and one of their filets. Let's get the others and vacate this place!"

* * * * * * *

The Friday before Labor Day weekend, Howie sent me a message. "Got some good news and some bad news. Lunch tomorrow, same bat-place, same bat-time. H." We happened to arrive at the same time, greeting each other and walking in together. He had arranged the private dining room for us. We ordered before getting down to the nitty-gritty.

"Which do you want first? The good news or the bad news?" he asked.

"Lay the bad news on me first."

"The bad news is that Jim Guthrie is on the up and up with his retirement. He really has retired from the State Department and has the highest recommendations from every Secretary of State and Ambassador he has worked for. The same is true of his time with the Supreme Court. He is aggressive in his determination to do any job thoroughly and get to the full results he wants. According to my sources, he can be ruthless when he wants to."

"So, what's the good news?" I asked.

"He's the sonuvabitch I thought he was – regardless how good he feels wrapped around your dick!" Howie replied.

I couldn't help but laugh. "Then do I need to look out for treachery and subterfuge when dealing with him? How far can I trust him, or do I need to have him observed all the time?"

"That's the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question. I wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him. But I don't like him, so I'm biased, and would keep a figurative eye on him. He'll probably do a great job for you, but ..."

"I've been warned," I finished his statement for him.

"If you would like, I'll personally plant a bug this far up his ass, so you can keep tabs on him twenty-four – seven," Howie indicated by grabbing his right bicep as he raised his fist in the air. "And yes, you can watch!"

I put the fingers of both hands at my temples and closed my eyes. "I need a pill," I told Howie.

"What? An aspirin?" he asked.

"Something stronger."

"A Nembutal?" I shook my head. "A Seconal?" I shook my head again. "Do you need a Tramadol?" I shook my head repeatedly. "What do you need?" he asked.

"Something that is better than all those pills and takes care of everything."

"What?"

"A Dammittal!" I answered, looking sheepish.

"You sonuva... No! You're the bitch!" Howie glared at me. "And you're paying for lunch today too!" He slapped the chit down on my plate. "Scheeze!" Howie stood, pulled out his wallet and dropped a Lincoln on the table as he said, "Let's get out of here before I get arrested for choking you out right here."

I picked up the ticket, wiping a greasy spot off it, then dropped another Lincoln beside it as we walked out of the room. The server came in as we left, and we thanked each other. I paid the bill at the register, then Howie and I said our good-byes outside.

"Suburban Hospital is just a few blocks down Old Georgetown Road, but I don't think they have a mental ward. Maybe they can give you a referral to Saint Elizabeth's. Dammittal. I don't believe it."

We hugged and went our ways. I had a lot to think about. `Do I really need another jinni just to keep an eye on Jim? Could we use any more jinn? I don't think so. Jamal and Arman probably can handle him because things should pretty much run themselves after the ranch is operating smoothly. Until then? What do you think, Jamal?" I knew he was reading my thoughts.

`It would be nice to have some more company, but not necessary,' Jamal answered mentally. `We can survey him and listen to him frequently. We can also listen to his telephone calls to know what he thinks.'

`I don't want to put too much on you and Arman, because you are dealing with all the trainees."

`The trainees are doing very well. They have a regular schedule now. Fitness exercises every morning and evening, classes every day except your Sunday. They learn their specialties and how to interact with real people every day. They learn dance, music, singing, cooking, making beds, how to wash clothes, gymnastics, bodybuilding ... No, they do not take bad drugs to make them big. They do exercises, like walking and pushing-ups on their hands. They all can do one hundred push-ups on their hands. They learn acrobatics and different martial arts. They master one martial art and are very good with three others, but they know a little about all,' Jamal explained to me. `Every night, they practice sucking big cocks, so they can, how you say deep throat the biggest. They also learn to take all cocks up their ass, and practice squeezing them with their ass muscle.'

`I'm sure you and Arman give them lots of practice with all size dicks, both orally and anally. How they interact with humans is most important,' I emphasized to Jamal. `They will need to be very correct in their behavior to both men and women. Do they get to practice with the hermaphrodites?' I asked him.

`Oh yes. All the men get to fuck the women's holes once every month, and they learn to use their tongues on the women's holes, and their breasts too. They practice being easy on women and learn when to be rough on women.'

`It all sounds good, Jamal. You both have everything under control. I'll still think about two more jinn for our family.'

* * * * * * *

The first week in October, the six of us {alright – the eight of us} made the trek to Atlanta to observe the progress being made. It was exciting to see all the buildings completed. When we arrived, the cranes were installing the tinted, insulated windows to enclose the indoor pool area.

The palace is all rock façade and glass, and the approach will dazzle everyone. Outside the front entrance is a huge fountain arrangement. There are three life-size horses with nude riders inside a round pool, each carved from a single block of marble – a brown marble stallion ridden by a Native American nude warrior; a black marble stallion ridden by a nude with Negro features; a white marble stallion with a Caucasian featured nude rider. The horses are rearing on their hind legs with water spouting from their life-size erect penises. The riders are riding bareback, also with full erections. The water spouting from each horse meet at the middle of the fountain; water spouting from the riders shoots between the horses' erect ears, so it runs down over their faces. The water is heated so it should keep flowing, even in freezing weather.

As one enters the palace through double glass doors, the foyer is immense. To the left is the full glass window looking into the pool and hot tub. Just in front of it is a curved staircase leading to the second floor, and to the right are the `ballroom' and dining room. At the very back is the library, with the elevator behind the staircase and next to the pool entrance.

When Greta and I were teenagers, our parents took us to Europe one summer. The tour of the Rosenborg Palace in Copenhagen, Denmark, blew me away with all the patterns of parquet flooring in the place. That was the inspiration for the flooring in my `palace.' Each room and foyer on the main floor has its own pattern and several wood tones to add to the designs. The hall around the balcony begins with a starburst at the head of the stairs, then arrow effects lead both ways until they meet at the front of the house with a smaller starburst effect. You can tell, this is my pride and joy!

We went upstairs to look out over the indoor pool from the balcony of one of the guest bedrooms. It gives the impression of a natural lagoon. At the far end, the rock formation has a cave at pool level, then rises to a hot-tub with steps leading to it, and on above that to the top of the cone, or volcano shape with the fountain spilling over to run down the rocks into the pool. Ferns will be placed among the rocks, but the pool water will be channeled around them. A lap lane goes from the indoor pool to the outdoor pool at the back of the house. The deep end of the pool next to the house has a double wall of aquarium quality glass so people in the fitness center and the orgy room can watch swimmers through the fresh-water fish in their full-length home.

Work on the interiors was in progress. Built-in fixtures were in place and the rooms were being painted. The color scheme for each guest suite matches the hues of Wedgewood porcelain – blue, green or lavender. The suite for Maji and me is in Wedgewood cream color. My mother collected Wedgewood, and when she learned from Lord Wedgewood in the mid-1960s that they were discontinuing the lavender color, she bought up all she could get her hands on. So, I'm using that as the model for the suite designs. The walls are painted in the three shades with accents in cream color bas-relief Grecian figures.

The main level features white backgrounds with ruby and burgundy dominant accents off-set by rich blues, greens, yellows and lavenders. Gold trim will be in the `ballroom' and the dining room. A baby-grand Steinway will be in the `ballroom,' with space for a combo to perform. Across from the piano, there will be a vintage Wurlitzer theater organ. Off the ballroom and the dining room will be a large solarium, with potted foliage and patio furniture. The dining room will carry the same color theme. The library will have cedar paneling and brass accents. This room will house the large wall-TV and electronics of every type. Surround-sound speakers will be located on every wall. The kitchen will be a chef's dream with areas set for each type of food preparation. A warming and chilling area will be located between the kitchen and dining room, so plates can be prepared and held until needed. A casual dining area will be in the back also for the house staff, Maji and me to use regularly.

From there, we went over to the apartment complex. The office building resembles the palace. The front driveway also has a portico type cover. Instead of a fountain with horses, this fountain has two dolphins on a track, circling half the circumference, then sharply turning at the center to pass next to each other, as the water sprays them. There is a nude young man (one Nordic and one Arab features) riding each dolphin with his hand stretched out so that they almost touch but passing just above or below the other.

* * * * * * *

Halloween morning started out normally at the apartments. Maji and I had breakfast in our apartment, then sat together in the living room, enjoying an extra cup of coffee. It was time to assemble the staff at the ranch.

"Jamal," I called.

"Armand," Maji said.

The jinn walked around the corner from the spare room we used as an office. "You called, Master?" they said together, in their perfect imitation of Lurch from `The Addams Family.'

"Tonight's the night," I commented. "When your guys go to sleep tonight, it's time to put them into a coma so they can be moved to the largest studio in the video production building. Tomorrow morning, we will meet them when you awaken them, and let them know what to expect from us for the next several years. Before you do awaken them, let them know what is about to happen so they won't be completely confused, or even afraid of what they don't understand."

"When they awake, they should be sitting on folding chairs, wearing shorts, T-shirts and sandals," Maji continued. "There should be breakfast food and coffee in the smaller studio for them to eat and return to their chairs. When they're back from breakfast, let us know and we'll come in and take our places on the platform that will be in front of them. So, we'll need two six-foot tables set up with six chairs behind them."

"Please make sure they all get a good, full-night's rest and are anxious to get busy settling into what will be the routine around here," I added. "Do you guys have any questions for us?"

"We think we understand what you want for this `staff meeting,'" Jamal answered. "We have a day to prepare all of the people to meet you."