You know the drill: The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons, of continents or islands, in countries, counties, cities, towns, villages, neighborhoods, streets, cul-de-sacs, nor governmental or non-governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then why are you here? Seriously, if guy-to-guy sex stuff makes you barf or is going to screw up your mind, you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most states and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such.
% Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection.
FoR SaLE By OwNEr: CK's STuD MuFFiN PaRTy 13 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
%
"Wouldn't it be nice to live like this every day of the year?"
Every few seconds, Michael would open his eyes, tilt his sunglasses down and eye up the next piece of eye candy which became a part of the assortment gathering at the pool. It would make him smile, hearing guys greet each other with some catchy, gay phrase, the hand clasps following or knuckles matched up in place of an affectionate 'hello'. Then he pushed his sunglasses back on the bridge of his nose and looked towards the sunny skies.
"Are you paying attention?"
"Sure I'm paying attention," Michael said to Scotty, before tilting his shades again, some guy's laughing causing a welcomed disturbance in the force, as the two sat poolside, sipping their 'umbrella' drinks.
"I'm well situated as far as when we return to New York, but I'm really concerned about what you're going to do Michael?"
Turning his attention away from the pleasurable surroundings, Michael says with a smile, "Alex says he's going to see about me getting my high school diploma?"
"Yes and that's a start, but what about after that?"
"I dunno," Michael replies. The seriousness of Scotty's demeanor, set Michael off course, his attention drawn away from guys horsing around in the pool or other 'hands-on' activities. He stared straight ahead, but men weren't totally on his mind. "I don't know what I want to do."
"You've got to have a hobby or something?" Scotty put it to him.
"Men?"
Taking his towel, Scotty throws it over Michael's head.
"Hey!" Michael complains, pulling it off, having to find his shades in the folds of the towel, placing them back on.
"There has to be 'something' that interests you. What did you do at home for fun, before you got kicked out?"
"Yow! That was like two years ago. It's tough to remember back that far. Um, let's see... I used to chop wood for our wood stove?"
"What else?" Scotty tried deriving some more pertinent info.
"School?"
Jumping on it, Scotty grills, "There... school... what was your favorite subject?"
"Gym."
"What did you go out for?"
Michael replies with a smile, "Showering 101?"
"We're supposed to be serious, y'know? I'm trying to help you out with your future!"
Seeing Scotty doing just that, Michael felt sorry for him trying to help and 'he' not responding in a positive manner, but he couldn't help it. For the last two years he's been out on his own, scraping his way across America, from the wilds of Alaska, landing in the city, roaming around till he hooked up with Alex. He flat out tells his lover, "I dunno what I want to do!"
Scotty didn't know how to approach Michael, lost for ways of trying. But for now it would have to wait.
"Hey! Here comes Tommy! Looks like he's in an awful hurry!" Michael says, sitting up a little in his chair as Tom Space enters the pool grounds.
"Looks like..." Scotty's voice trails off.
And true to Scotty's thinking, Tom is headed straight towards them.
Michael asks right off the bat, joking, "Are they ready to take pictures of me?"
But more was on Tom's mind, him seriously saying, "Scotty, you have to do us a big, big favor!"
'Oh well!' Michael thought. Tom wasn't there for him, didn't come to tell him they were interested in making him a super model today!
"What's up?" Scotty asks, first propping himself up from his lounging position, sitting on the side of the chair, then standing up at Tom's height.
Sarcastically, Tom says, "Our 'wonderful, professional chef' has found it too hot to work in the kitchen and has gone and quit on us!"
"What?" Scotty says with exclamation. "How could he do that?"
"I don't know, but I'm warning you, if you take on the responsibility... the kitchen fans are out of service at the moment," Tom pieces together information.
Scotty wasn't getting it right away, Michael doing the investigating, "What do you mean 'take on'?"
Tom, praising Scotty, but at the same time passing on information to Michael, "Scotty, we know it was your choosing of the menu for the brunch this morning. Chef Kholfai even admitted it to me he was lounging out back at the pool while you were busy drawing it up. He made it look like 'he' pulled off a beautiful job, but I've found out it was all your doing." But cutting to the moment, because he didn't have much time, "Scotty, what I'm driving at is we desperately need the help of someone whom is organized, has the knowledge of preparations for a large crowd and that person is 'you'!"
"Cool!" Michael says.
"Cayman is willing to pay handsomely for your services."
On the contrary, Scotty sums it up, knowing he doesn't want history repeating itself, "I don't think so."
Tom was lost for words, his jaw hanging open, so sure he had it in the bag.
Michael says, "You're crazy Scotty! This is a good thing for you. You should go for it!"
Turning to Michael, he reaches for his hand, saying, "We came here as guests. I almost lost you and I don't want to take that chance again."
Drawing on the subject of their previous conversation, Michael jests, "I know how to peel onions, if you don't mind my bawling my eyes out!"
Tom Space comes back with, "I've got a pair of ski goggles in my locker!"
"Cool!"
Accepting, Scotty walked behind the two, Michael stealing Tom's ear, wanting to know all about his skiing adventures!
%
They both were sweaty. The sheets were wet with perspiration and other fluids. Alex finally came out of his slumber, looking towards the side table. Squinting his eyes he read the clock.
'Is that a two?' he thought to himself his lips still adhering to Kyle's chest. He tried reading where the small hand was positioned. Finally speaking it, his lower lip came 'unglued' from Kyle's skin as he read, "Is that ten after twelve or two o'clock?"
"Huh?" Kyle says, finally awakening. He switches his head to where Alex's thoughts are trained. "Who cares!"
Alex realizes he's been laying on Kyle's shoulder. "You're shoulder! Oh my God! Are you okay?" he does a pushup.
"Will you stop treating me like an invalid?"
Sitting up on his knees, Alex's limp shaft hung down, making contact. They smiled at each other, the touching of their loins breaking off their little spat.
"Ready to do me again?" Kyle asks.
"Twice in one day," Alex replies, "I think I need to replenish the stock."
Now it was a joke, but when Ron barged in on them two hours ago, it was new, firsthand. Second time, after the knock, he waits after announcing himself, "Are you decent in there?"
"No!" Kyle and Alex yell back.
They both giggle when Ron opens the door anyway, catching Alex's and Kyle's loins conjoined.
"Oh my! Two for the price of one!"
Alex says, "Yeah, your mouth is probably big enough Ron!"
Closing the door behind him, Ron says, "Only one way to find out!"
"Yeah, well you blew it, so tough luck Ron!"
"Alex, why are you so mean to me?"
It's Kyle who notices, "Hey Ron, how come you have clothes on?"
Ron stands there with a smile of his face, then reports, "I ran as fast as I could, but he caught up with me!"
Two hours ago, Ron was saying he could outrun security, what without a stitch of clothing on. Now, fully dressed in his house attire, he was reporting to them, "This little dude, Jason, he spots me as soon as I left the house and takes off after me. Would you believe I once qualified for the gay olympics?"
It was interesting to the two, but Kyle is inquisitive to know, first questioning, Alex, "I wonder if it was 'our' Jason?"
Alex begins to describe, his hand a bit under his head, "Was this 'Jason', about our age? Around five-ten? Average build?" He scratches his chin with his fingers, "Little goatee on his chin?"
"That's him. You know him?" Ron replies.
Kyle says, "That's 'our' Jason. So did he catch you?"
"Catch me? He fuckin' jumped me!"
Alex laughs at Ron's expression, replying, "Oh I betcha that really got your balls twisted up!"
"No," Ron replies. "Remember, I wasn't wearing anything. More like ground them into the grass?"
"At least you had a soft landing," Kyle says with glee.
"Actually, we had a nice little romp in the grass," Ron says, an etheral feeling about his saying it. "You don't think I wasn't going to give up without a fight?"
"Oh really?" Alex says, crossing his arms over his pecs as his bod sags, his stomach wrinkling up. "How's that go?" He knows there's more to follow than what's said.
"Yeah. You don't think I was the only one who was going to wind up with grass stains?"
Kyle lay there, Alex still straddling his crotch, listening attentively to Ron giving a play by play call of the action as the two wrestled on the ground.
"I started getting the upper hand, hid behind a tree, and the two of us, you should have seen us. It was like two kids playing hide and seek, before Jason finally came to grips over the law enforcing situation."
"He drew his gun?" Kyle asks.
"Gun?" Ron questions.
Alex fills his lover in, "Where were you when Geoff was saying they didn't carry guns?"
"Probably in la-la-land," Kyle jokes. But back to Ron, "So what did Jason do to subdue you?" Kyle hoping for some juicy manner in which Ron was incapacitated.
"No guns, but they carry handcuffs. He had me with my chest to the ground and when I felt one cuff go around a wrist. I knew if I didn't act I'd be out on my ass. So using brute strength..."
"Like the kind you used in the gym on my cock?" Alex jokes, because he sees Ron getting with quite the dramatic edge.
"No," he says, "these," Ron lifts up his shirt, showing off his taut abs. "I manhandled Jason over onto his back and tell you... when the tables were turned.."
"You didn't hurt him, did you?" Kyle asks with concern.
"Hurt him? How could I harm a single hair on the head," he hesitates, "or the bod, of that sweet, innocent boy?"
Alex and Kyle exchange glances, kind of getting the gist of where this is all headed.
"Let me guess," Alex ventures to say, "you didn't get arrested?"
"Not, once Jason began seeing things 'my way'."
"Your way Ron?" Alex sought out the details.
But before Ron could bestow anymore information, Carmen knocks at the door. "Ron?"
Cracking the door ajar a half inch, Ron asks, "Yeah, what is it Carm?"
"There's a guy named Jason at the door. He wants to know if you're ready to go to the party?"
"Be right out."
"Jason?" Alex questions Ron in an interrogating manner.
"What party?" Kyle asks.
"I forgot," he says. "I dropped by to tell you there's a party starting up over at the main pool... live music, food, plenty of eye candy?"
At the door comes a second knock.
"Yeah, be right there Carm," Ron calls out.
Instead, the door creeps open. Ron has seen all, but when Jason opens it, Alex grabs up the sheet and at least covers their private areas.
"Coming Ron? The party's... oh, hi guys?" Jason says, changing from a serious nature, lightening up.
"Gotta dash," Ron says. And in a humorous fashion, "I'm under 'house arrest'!"
After they leave, Kyle says, "Wow, how Jason has changed!"
"Yeah," Alex agrees, falling into the bed next to Kyle. "Not the young, flighty teenager he used to be."
"How about us?"
"What about us?" Alex asks as he rubs the skin between Kyle's pecs.
"Do you think we've changed?"
"Not much. We're still in love and I think that's what matters most. I mean, look... we're surviving one of the world's most challenging environments, the Stud Muffin Party!" Then with all seriousness, Alex says, "Of which only one thing I'm regretting."
"What's that?" Kyle asks with such concern.
"I'm really sorry I let Ron suck me off. In a way I feel I betrayed you."
Kyle reckons, "But I think we agreed it was the ambiance of the place, the weekend?"
"I know, but being the kind of business I'm going into, I have to become stronger and not give into every whim or temptation that presents itself," Alex says with determination.
"Same here. I did kind of feel the way you did after Nalin gave me that special massage in the pool. I mean, it was his hand instead of his mouth, but still, it was the same thing... like you said, 'betrayal'. I think we're both going to have to be on our guard. But you know what Alex?"
"What?" Alex asks, his grisly beard rubbing against Kyle's soft, smooth pec.
"I don't think it's going to be so hard from here on in because of one thing."
"What's that?" As if Alex doesn't know where this is leading to, him shimmying his bod so it more hovers over Kyle.
"Because we love each other so much?"
Lightly put, Alex says, "Just what I was thinking!"
%
Excited for his other half, Michael tagged along with Scotty and Tom Space, being led to the main house kitchen. Totally psyched up, Scotty was also nervous, assuming the position of head chef. While under Chef Kholfai's wing, he planned the menu for this morning's brunch, but it was Kholfai who directed the flock of chefs who actually carried out the preparation. This is the part which he wasn't sure of. Would they listen to a total stranger? Would any one of them be jealous that he assumed Chef Kholfai's duties? As he hurried alongside Tom, he figured he would pop the question, disspelling any thoughts of such.
"Say Tom?"
"Yes?" Tom signaled back, not stopping or even slowing his fast pace.
"The other chefs... the ones whom I worked with this morning, weren't any of them more experienced... more proficient than me? Plus, surely they've been working here longer and at least one of them, if not another will feel the job belongs to them?"
Michael agreed, "What if one of them doesn't like the idea of Scotty getting ahead?"
Very businesslike Tom replies, "The order is coming down from Cayman himself. You are not to take any guff from any of the other chefs. But I doubt you will have a problem, because like Chef Kholfai, leaving would mean forfeiting their bonus and I don't think any of them would want to give up a tidy sum, especially after more than half the weekend has flown by. As far as any of them having the edge on you timewise, none of the other chefs has been here longer than a week before you, except maybe one."
Catching it right away, not that dollar signs were running through his head, curious though, Michael asks, "Like how much is a bonus costing Cayman?"
Holding the door to the main house for both to pass through, Tom replies, "A fraction of what Chef Kholfai was 'supposed' to have received, but being he's accepted another offer, he's forfeiting his bonus. Therefore," after closing the door, "play your cards right and you could be walking away this weekend with a tidy sum in your pocket!"
It still didn't answer Michael's question, even though Scotty was just happy he was having the opportunity to assume the duties, filling a prominent chef's shoes. Still Michael pursued, "Like how much was 'the main chef-dude' getting?"
Tom smiles, knowing Scotty thought beyond the money factor, whereas the prominent position opened up. All along he's taken a liking to Michael, the cute way in which he approached almost everything. Like a brother to him, Tom places his arm over Michael's shoulder and confides, "Now Michael, off the top of your head, how would you do spend five thousand dollars?"
"Holy cow! Really?" Michael was floored. He figured a hundred bucks would be a lot! "Imagine what we could do with that Scotty!"
First and foremost on Scotty's mind, after the chef duty, was, "Yeah, after you get your high school diploma, I know exactly what we're going to with it!" From there on, Scotty knew where the kitchen was and carried on hustling in that direction.
Even though it had been Tom's priority, with Scotty in charge, he lost urgency. Hanging back, his arm still cuddled Michael's shoulders. "What's this? You didn't finish school?"
In a lulled tone, Michael explains, "I'm kind of embarrassed to say I didn't, but it like, wasn't my fault."
Their pace slowed, Tom made a sharp detour into his office, which was really Cayman's, but Cayman didn't spend a whole lot of time there.
"What about Scotty?" Michael asks.
"I know he'll be able to handle everything. Between you and me, the staff was more than happy to have Scotty as their main chef. Many were comparing him to Chef Kholfai and believe me when I say they are more interested working in a 'democratic' kitchen than a 'dictatorship'!"
Michael didn't get it, but being he was led into Tom's spacious office, offered a seat and a beer, he wasn't complaining, except for, "My suit is wet. Is it okay to sit here?"
"Sit wherever you please, Michael," Tom says, about to leave the room. "I'll be right back."
"Cool!" Michael replies. He then realizes that this isn't Tom's office, but the one in which the official business referring to Palmer vs. Kostas, took place. He gets up and starts looking at all the cool stuff, something which escaped his attention the first time around. "Cool!" he says out loud, his eyes widening when he opens a photo album, seeing pictures of guys, some clothes on, some half-dressed, some naked. "Oh, very cool!" When he hears a hand on the door knob, he flicks the book closed, like he wasn't supposed to be looking at it! Of course he knows he was snagged, because he then had to return the book to the exact place it was sitting on the hutch. "Nice family album," Michael says to Tom, even though his attention was set on the dude accompanying him.
"Michael, I'd like you to meet Milo Domersanto."
Michael allowed Tom to talk on about Milo, but all he was interested in is touching his hand, holding it as he took in the view of the apparent model. "'Nice' to meet you! Are you a super model?"
After Tom briefly told about Milo being a teacher of junior high school first, before defecting to the world of modeling, Milo says, "It's really good to meet a studious lad who is interested in furthering his education."
The two locked smiles, till Tom breaks it up, "Good. Now that you know each other, you can take this out of my office?"
"I don't get it," Michael says.
Unknown to Michael, let alone Scotty, Tom Space and Cayman had already forged ahead, scheming up some crafty plans. He didn't divulge the whole gist of why Scotty was being called up to assume the head chef's duties, so breaks down the walls of secrecy to say, "It is Cayman's wishes that, after this weekend has ended, you and Scotty perhaps might find it suitable to stay for awhile."
Not getting it, Michael asks, "What for? I mean, this place is like really great, but Scotty has to get back to the city. He's got school coming up, you know?"
"And that we will not have a problem with, but Cayman really has the need for an expert food consultant. You know the estate doesn't turn into a ghost town after the Stud Muffin Party has ended?"
"Really?" Michael replies.
Milo helps Tom out, "You better believe it. Every year, after the Stud Muffin Party, some of the models stay on and we're flooded with designers. The food and wine never stops flowing, along with it!"
"Then comes Hallowe'en, Thanksgiving and Christmas," Tom interjects.
"And even though it's not on the grounds, we all take off for the islands for the winter."
Milo and Tom were giving Michael a lot to digest. Too much really for him to think about, him seemingly getting 'heartburn' from everything being thrown at him. He then says, "You mean Scotty and me are going to be around for all this stuff?"
Tom says, "Scotty will be kept quite busy. In fact, at times his classes may have to be temporarily moved out here to the estate."
"Really?" He didn't understand. "Like how would that go?"
Trading off info, Milo says, "Where Cayman is concerned, there is very little money can't buy. If Scotty can't get to the International Cooking School... he'll bring the International Cooking School to Scotty!"
He understood, even though he wasn't concerning himself too much with monetary figures. Sure, Scotty would be kept busy, but he wondered, "What about me?"
"That's where I come in," the twenty-six year old teacher-turned-model tells Michael. "You know, not all models who visit the estate come alone?"
"I know that," Michael replies. "Probably they bring their boyfriends with them."
Michael was already on the leather sofa, moving occasionally because his damp speedo often stuck to it.
Seeing his predicament, the uncomfortable nature of it, Milo pulls the beach towel which slung over his shoulders, says, "Here, get up a minute." He places it under Michael's ass. He smiled when Milo's bare arm rubbed against his.
"Thanks. Feels better." It even felt better having Milo rub bods!
Since Milo was already there, he took the liberty of sitting down. "As I was saying, more than the models show up, often bringing their children."
"Children? Like kids?"
"At the house your friends Alex and Kyle, are staying?"
"Wow! I forgot all about them... except when I saw them this morning when that Kostas dude tried messing up Palmer's balls...anyway, what about Alex and Kyle?"
Michael took the long route around. But Milo didn't mind. Like everyone else, he thought Michael to be the cutest guy, revealing, "The place where they are staying turns into a sort of kid's clubhouse whenever the situation presents itself. As for myself, I originally was signed on as a model, but when Cayman found out I had this fancy education degree and certified to teach, I was adopted as an on-board teacher for the occasional bunch of kids who stayed here." Then cutting to the important part, "Tom thought maybe I could help you out with studying for your high school diploma, while your boyfriend is keeping busy in the kitchen. God knows, I sure could use the help when the kids show up. I usually wind up becoming part-time nannny!" He laughed, then asks, "What do you think?"
First thought to come to Michael's mind was Milo was absolutely, flawlessly gorgeous!
"So?" Milo asks, not getting a direct answer. "I mean you can think about it, Michael. Nobody's asking you to make up your mind now?"
"Can I ask a question first?"
"Sure. Ask all the questions you want."
"Are you a top or a bottom?"
Milo smiled. He then informs Michael, "Like you, I have a boyfriend and as far as our relationship goes, it will be strictly professional. But to answer your question," because Milo wasn't a total angel, "I am a top. How about yourself?"
"Let's just say, if I didn't have a boyfriend and 'you' didn't have a boyfriend, I could make you a very happy man!"
The two laughed it off, Michael ending with, "When do I have my first class?"
"Certainly not before the Stud Muffin Party is over. Hey, want to go for a swim?"
%
Scotty was totally overwhelmed when he walked into the kitchen. All around the circumference of countertops, the crew stood and upon entering he was greeted with a round of 'applause'. Not a real one where an audience welcomes the sounds of a symphony, but rather the clanging of spoons on pots. He was all smiles when he was 'crowned' with the tallest chef's hat he's ever seen.
"Welcome!" came the response from one of the French chefs, Jeremiah Goudon.
Smiling back, Scotty remembered, as they prepared the breakfast brunch for this morning, Jeremiah, or 'Jere' as he shortened the name because things got hectic, had stood by him, carrying on orders beyond his expectations.
"I'm really glad they picked you," Jere said with a smile. Then amending his good wishes, others patted Scotty on the back, congratulating him, "We're all happy Cayman chose you."
"Thanks so much," Scotty replied, directing his thanks to Jere, but then widening his greeting, "Thanks to everybody. Now I think we better get moving. We've got a big 'show' to present this evening?"
In reality, none of them wanted the responsibility of 'top chef' and as Scotty set about giving out orders, they all became excited, not because of the event presenting itself, the ultimate dinner party, but the fact Scotty was the force behind them moving into action.
Working right beside him, by Scotty's choice as well as Jere's preference, he says, "I'm really glad you accepted the position, Scotty."
First time around, Scotty had the feeling Jere was brown-nosing him because he was tight with Chef Kholfai, but after awhile, he found him to be an honestly nice, modest guy. Too, he did sense Jere more than 'liking' him, but in his own mind Scotty knew the only man for him was Michael and this time he had his guard up. But as they worked the kitchen, Scotty slowly realized Jere really 'loved' him, not for sexual reasons or wanting to nuzzle Michael out of his life. This guy really 'loved' him, more in a brotherly sense. For two hours they labored and when it was all over, many hands making light work, Scotty rallies, "We did it!" He hugged Jere.
"I didn't do much," Jere said as he still remained cuddled in Scotty's arms. "None of this would have come about without you at the helm!"
And Scotty was surprised. Sure, it was him holding Jere, and it seemed he let his guard down, but Jere didn't even as much take advantage. Instead, he backed away, saying, "We deserve a swim if you're up for it?" He brought over two chilled mugs and two bottles of 'quality' beer.
As they drank their beers, Scotty says, "Thanks for all your help today."
Taking a swig, wiping his mouth on his apron, Jere replies, "Like I said, if not for your tight control on everything, your creativity and the command you had over everybody, we all would have still been slaving over the ovens. You're a welcome change over Chef Kholfai and all the guys welcome and appreciate the change."
Scotty couldn't get it through his head, wondering why Jere was being overly kind. He didn't want to hurt his feelings, yet was still curious, "I certainly appreciate your words, the help and dedication everyone has shown me today." Looking for explanation, Scotty probes, "But you were there whenever I needed 'anything', Jere." He raised his mug in toasting.
Finally, Jere confesses, after a short silence, "I really liked you the moment you set foot in the kitchen. I mean, not after Tom Space acquired your services, but before. I was really jealous of Chef Kholfai. I have to admit I wanted you for myself Scotty."
"But I 'do' have a partner?"
"I know. So Tom said. Um, did you know he came in here, gathered us up and asked us how we would feel about you being 'our boss'?"
"No," Scotty replies. "He didn't say, not that he had much of a chance."
"Nobody could have been happier than me." Turning serious, Jere says, "And, even though you're taken, I'm happy it's at least not Chef Kholfai. I still hope we can remain close friends?"
Scotty could see no reason, with Jere's explanation, knowing how it stands, why he couldn't offer him a hug. And that he proceeded to do, which Jere accepted.
"Can I ask you to do one thing for me and I won't ever ask it of you again?" Jere says.
"What would that be?"
"Just one kiss?"
%
"I was thinking..."
"Again Alex?"
Alex smiled, looking at Kyle through the reflection in the jon mirror.
"Okay. I give up. What were you thinking?"
"My chest."
"What about it?"
"Does 'Superman' ring a bell?"
Kyle, moving around almost at his normal pace, says, "Forget it Alex. You're not shaving an 'S' on your chest! Besides, why would you want to do such a thing?"
"I dunno. Maybe I should cut it all off!"
Like guarding a priceless work of art, Kyle yells at him, "Alex, you're 'not' shaving all of this beautful fur off, so get that through your head, 'boy'!" He even stole the razor out of Alex's hand to make sure.
"I wasn't gonna do it!"
"Well, you were thinking it, Alex!"
"You really like me hairy?"
"Think of it this way Alex, how long have you been hairy, even if just a little?"
"I started to get a patch when I turned seventeen." And a tidbit of a fact added, "Joey's even hairier than me?"
"Good for Joey," Kyle says sarcastically. "I like you being hairy and you better not even suggest it every again of cutting it off!"
"How about a trim?"
Kyle just looked at Alex.
"I guess not," Alex decides on his own, considering the frowning upon.
"Are you done shaving or are we going to get to the party when it's over?"
"I'm done," Alex replies.
"I like it," Kyle says, knowing Alex wasn't going to mention he left some 'shadow' on his chin.
"Really?" Alex says, revealing the fact he has a stubbled chin, his hand feeling it up as he gazes at himself in the mirror.
"When you get over yourself, can we go?"
"I'm over myself!" Alex announces.
The two, dressed in the attire for the evening, speedos, leave their spacious accomodations and step out into the open, afternoon air.
"I love summer!"
"More than you love me?" Alex asks.
"Let me think on it, okay?"
Pouting, Alex says, "You went and hurt my feelings!"
A put on, Kyle plays up to him and moves in for a kiss.
"Hey! None of that in public! Didn't you read your rule book?"
It was Geoff and unlike earlier, he's entirely transformed.
"Rule book, Geoff?" Alex questions. "Aren't you a little out of uniform?"
Kyle didn't give two hoots, telling, "Daymn Geoff you look mighty fine in a speedo!"
Alex lets on in a joking manner, "I'm not 'bear' enough for him!"
Mostly, one looked around and spotted a model, he was almost picked clean when it came to bod hair. Sometimes the remnants of a nice forest of hair showed in a tight treasure trail. For the most part, Alex and Geoff stuck out, but Geoff even more so. From shoulders to the waist of his speedo, he sported a continuous mat of almost black hair. His tan nips even blended in, a swirl around his stomach, keying a person in to his deep innie lying in the middle like an intent target. The embedded happy trail gave way to the line of demarcation, separating abs from pubes, but the speedo didn't allow for this part to be hidden in the least!
"Hmm," Geoff said, wiggling his eyebrows and sporting a mischevious grin, "you'd be bear enough for me!"
"Somebody mention bears in the woods?"
Welcomed to the threesome, Swifty shows up.
"Going to a luau?" Kyle asks.
"He's shy," Geoff says of the Hawaiian shirt.
Swifty says, "I thought it would be fun to do a sexy shirt strip!"
Geoff jokes, "You should see his 'pants' strip!"
"Oh really?" Alex plays along. "I thought that was a no-no in the rule book?"
"Touche!" Geoff says to Alex, the back of his hand giving him a fake punch in the tummy.
Alex replies with an almost inaudible belch, mostly a put on, "Ugh-h-h!" It slips, base on his and Ron's gym activity, "Don't tell me you're into that gut-punching stuff too?" He laughs it off.
He figured Geoff would ask what 'that' was all about, but Alex is surprised when Geoff mentions, "Pardon the pun, but did Ron 'hit you up' for some gut-punching too?"
"You too?" Alex came back at him with.
"I told him, 'no' and to please refrain from the activity while the Stud Muffin Party is in session," Geoff says.
Kyle accidentally lets on, "Too-oo late!"
Shaking his head and smirking, Geoff chocks it up to, "Oh well. What's done is done, but Alex from now on think about it," he lectured as the four walked towards the pool, "if you don't know what you're doing, how this could very well work itself into the legal issue?"
Tearing off into pairs, Kyle and Swifty chatted while Geoff gave a desertation on the 'what ifs' of doing an activity you don't have any knowledge of, if Ron had gotten hurt and what legal implications could persist.
Alex took it as another of life's lessons and before they knew it, they were at the point where they could not ignore the music.
"Oh my!" Swifty said of the wall-to-wall boys, dancing their asses off, lounging in the pool, sitting around, standing and drinks in their hands, having a gay ole time. "Well gentlemen," he began unbuttoning the last two buttons of his split-down-the-middle Hawaiian shirt, "I'd say stripping time has arrived!"
Poor Swifty, no one noticed. Not even himself pay attention to Geoff, wondering if he was at least admired by his other half, as he peeled the shirt from his shoulders.
However, Geoff, to make his honey feel good, offers, "Need some help?"
"MM-m-m," Swifty says as Geoff's bear claws do more than help make him shirtless, a hand planing down the front of Swifty's chest. He takes the shirt by the collar and like they do with a tee shirt, parks the collar of it between speedo and ass. "Really!" Swifty exclaims when he feels a paw worked between his ass crevice.
"Be quiet or I'll put more than my hand there!"
"Hmm," Swifty says, left with nothing much else to say as he's whisked away into the crowd, Geoff tugging him along.
"Wouldya look at Geoff go!" Kyle exclaims, the bear bod bumping to the beat.
"I think he's got some secret admirers," Alex says.
Perusing the crowd, Kyle asks, "Where?"
Alex reports back, with a head nod, "Twelve o'clock, blue umbrella?"
"Oh my. Swifty better keep Geoff's leash tight!"
Snapping his fingers, Alex says, "I knew I forgot something!"
"What?" Kyle questions him, trying to keep his attention focused on Alex.
"The leash!"
"I'm going to need it more for you, than you for me, boy!" Kyle says back to him. Then, doing what Geoff did, leads Alex away into the crowd. Right away they start bopping their bods, it unavoidable to accidentally bump into another.
"Good band!" Kyle yells.
"What?" Alex questions, pointing to his own ear.
Kyle mouths, 'Good band!'
Alex shakes his head 'no', again the ear thing.
Swinging his arm out to the side, to give direction to the band on the stage, Kyle accidentally slaps a dude in the chest. "Oops! Sorry!"
'Oh no!' Alex thinks, rolling his eyes.
Kyle's arm has just messed with 'Ron'!
"Mm-mm... my kind of man!" Ron says to Kyle.
Of course, like Kyle's salutations, with regards to the boy-band, nothing can be interpeted. Kyle just smiled back.
Rather than continue the conversation, Alex sweeps Kyle away, waving to Ron, mouthing, 'See ya later'! Wading through the crowd in a serpentine fashion, they come out to where Alex earlier spotted the blue umbrella at twelve o'clock.
"Hey, how's it going?" the same dude who was admiring Geoff, says to Kyle and Alex.
Knowing how popular blonds tend to be at parties, Alex right away separates the two, saying back, "Hi!"
Nobody could be more surprised then Alex, the dude taking Alex in his arms, putting him a romantic position, bod to bod and kissing him on the lips passionately.
"Um, excuse me," Kyle says, using both hands to separate fleshy abs. He's also was proud of Alex, because there his hands were too, jack-knifed, trying to pry himself away from the nervy dude.
Neither got angry. They knew this was the type of party where almost anything goes. Not really meaning it, the dude says, "Oh, are you two together?"
Kyle leads Alex away, Alex replying, "Yeah, but thanks for the kiss!"
"No problem man... anytime!" The dude replies, moving onto the next victim of his faux affection.
To the sides of the stage, the music seemed to pan out some, the speakers not blaring in one's face. Kyle says, "Oh man, are they cute or what, Alex?"
"Which one?" he said of the four musicians, two guitarists, a lead singer and drummer.
They looked at each other and laughed, Kyle saying, "Two sets of twins?"
Alex corrected, "Try, 'quads'?"
Not tearing their eyes away from the stage, Kyle says, "I like their preppy look!"
"Yeah, but they've got to be like roasting in those shirts!" Alex says of the black, long-sleeved tops, apparently placed over a collared, white shirt, a black necktie sealing off any indication of what lies underneath.
Abruptly the music stops, the crowd whistling, applauding. Then, nonstop, a DJ kicks in, loud club music replacing rock music, the party churning up again, whereas human forms continue movement of shoulders, torsos and anything else pertaining to the human anatomy.
"I never heard of 'Sentinel'," Alex says.
"I think they had one hit last summer," Kyle replies. "I saw them in Central Park when they opened for Maroon 5."
"Really? Then they've got to be fairly well-known."
"I got an idea!"
"What?"
Alex didn't have time to turn Kyle down, a hand as a leash, leading him towards the stage.
Meanwhile, backstage, quite the scene has erupted, 'Sentinel's' business manager, also the boys' father spewing, "I can't believe this gig is playing for a bunch of fucking faggots!"
None of them said anything, Jason Elgin looking to his brother Caleb, who shows anger, but doesn't voice his opinion.
"Wait till I get back to the city. I'm going to give Dave Gibbons an earful!"
Loud and boisterous, it wasn't too much of a chore for Mark Elgin to lecture his boys. Giving his guitar a rest, placing it in the case, Caleb says sarcastically, "Well we're here, so what the hell is the difference?"
"Don't you go fuckin' sassin' me boy!" the father says to his son, grabbing his clothes up in a bundle at the chest with his hand. Then he lashes into Caleb, "Yeah, you feel right at home here with your fuckin' kind. Just because you got the defective gene doesn't mean the rest of us wants to be here in this immoral hell-hole!"
Just then, a guy shows up, saying, "Hey, want to take it easy on the kid?"
"Who the fuck are you?" Was Mark's first reaction to the dude who didn't look much older than his nineteen year old sons.
"Silas Chitwood," he replies, "director of Chitwood Management. I manage the group 'T.R.U.N.K.S.!' They're headed back here with their equipment and I just don't think it would be considered a friendly environment if they caught you with your hand around your son's throat?" Silas was assuming a lot here.
Mark Elgin didn't have his hand around Caleb's throat, but the roughness of his voice, the cursing, the homophobic intolerance suggested a word stronger than hate. In a huff, Mark didn't say another word about the incident. Instead, he turned to his boys, saying in a gruff way, "You've got thirty minutes, but I don't want either of you setting foot off this stage!" The boys falling out, he instructs Caleb, "I'm not allowing you to slide Caleb, just because of 'his'," he meant Silas Chitwood, "remarks. As soon as I find my book I'm marking you down for ten demerits!"
Jason defends his brother, "He didn't do anything wrong!"
If they weren't among other people, Jason could have earned himself a hefty slap across the mouth for insuboordination. Instead he gets from his father, "I'm putting you down for ten too!"
Caleb, feeling terribly remorsefull about his brother standing up for him, tells his father, "I'll take Jason's demerits."
"Good, you'll take twenty demerits and your brother can take his ten for being such a fuckin' wiseass!"
Lane and Jared were keeping their mouths shut. They felt for both of their brothers, but knew whatever they said would not mean a thing when it came to where their father ruled the roost. Last year, when he graduated from high school, Caleb took the chance of coming out to his father. Big mistake, since he's been ridiculed for being gay from even birth, his father claiming, of the four quadruplets, Caleb has received the 'gay gene' and in this case is considered a 'defective' part of the four brothers' rock group.
Since their mom died, three years ago, Mark Elgin has ruled the family with an iron fist. Like his father before him, the only means by which to raise his four sons is by way of corporal punishment. Just like when he was a kid, Mark began keeping a book of 'demerits', tallying up offenses brought on by his sons. In the Elgin household, neither of the boys were allowed to date until their senior year in high school. It was a tough thing to deal with, when all your friends are behaving just the opposite.
None of the four has escaped the belt, accumulating demerits here and there, Jared receiving ten demerits just for 'asking' his father if he could go to the beach with a girl! One time Lane was seen walking home from school, a girl flanking each side of him. Unfortunately for him, his father had taken a detour home from work, which brought him along the street the high school is located. Lane received a double dose of the belt!
"I'm going to find some water for us. Remember... you all stay put and I don't want you talking to anyone!" Mark looked about backstage, making sure the five of them were isolated from everything else taking place, especially that young manager's group entering to set up. "Keep away from them," he said in a leery manner. "I have my suspicions they might be some of those gay heathens." And before he made his exit, he impressed, "You hear me Caleb?"
"Yes, sir," Caleb responds. He knows he's already racked up twenty lashes of the belt, plus he didn't want Jason standing in for him. After his father leaves, he goes over to his brother, "Thanks Jase. You didn't have to go and do that for me."
"I know. I don't have to do anything for you, but you're like... my brother."
And like brothers do, Jason hugs Caleb.
Lane ventures to inform them, "Hey, you better watch out, if father catches you two," and he says sarcastically, "and of that 'gay' stuff!" He also extended his condolences for Caleb's future accumulation of demerits. They've all experienced it, the sting of a leather belt on the back. Other than receiving a double dose, twenty, instead of ten, Lane knows the pain it can cause.
Jared joins the three, patting Lane on the shoulder, saying, "Yeah, me too bro. Just think, a year and half from now we'll be out from under the wings of our 'loving' father!"
Unlike most binding agreements, the quads would not be free from their father's managerial duties until they turn twenty-one. At the same time, they will divide fifty percent of the 'take', their father's cut, half. Such comes the terms of the agreement, set up by their father when the idea of the boys forming a rock group came up when they turned sixteen.
Caleb says, "I can't wait to get back to the violin."
"You better not let father hear you say that!"
Originally, Caleb's mother had paid for many years of violin lessons. But when the band needed a singer, so were the hopes of Caleb becoming a concert violinist dashed. As he mentions it, it flashes back to the past, the day he had the audacity to stand up for himself. Unfortunately, it was not a good day for him, accumulating demerits, but worse off for his violin, his father first smashing it, then tossing it in the bonfire of the fireplace. At least Caleb had an idea of what he was going to spend 'his cut' on!
"Hey, how's it going?"
The four turned to Kyle and Alex, Jason being brave to acknowledge, "Okay and you?"
Being 'paired', right away Caleb assumes, "Are you a couple?"
Kyle and Alex exchanged smiles, Kyle saying, "I'm Kyle Dryfiss and this is my partner, Alex Nouguet. We're big fans of yours."
Whereas Lane and Jared were interested in the status of 'Sentinel', Jason kept his eye on Caleb, making sure he didn't overstep his boundaries. Afterall, their father would not be gone forever!
"Where do you live?"
Jason monitored the conversation.
Alex, walks over by Lane and Jared, Kyle replying, "In New York City. Yourselves?"
Caleb, opening up like he's starved for conversation his whole life, "Originally we're from Indiana, but for the past few months we've stayed in New York."
Not wanting Caleb to become 'too' involved, Jason joins in, "We travel a lot."
"I guess you have to. I've been following you, but Alex, being from a tiny town in Pennsylvania, hasn't heard much of your music."
"Really?" Caleb asks. Unknown to Jason, or even Kyle, Caleb secretly has fallen into a stupor, licking his lips, wondering what it would be like kissing Kyle. Allowing Jason to pick up on the conversation, he strongly thinks what it would be like to kiss Kyle. He's always thought about it, kissing another man, but wondered to himself what the feeling would be like, his lips tasting another man.
"What're you fuckin' crazy Caleb?" Jason says, pulling Caleb and Kyle apart.
Caleb's lips pressed into Kyle, he's broken free, but the ethereal nature of the mixed saliva, creates something of an aura about him, oblivious to anything going on around him.
Keying his attention to the very part of the stage where his father left for refreshments, Jason replies, "That was a close one Caleb. Don't you do that again if you know what's good for you." He apologizes to Kyle, "We're real sorry about that!" Jason still clutches at Caleb's shirt, letting go of the material, but still embracing his arm.
Coming out of it, Caleb adds his own remorse, even though it doesn't sound too legit, "Me too, Kyle."
In turn, Alex says, to Kyle, "Well, I guess this makes us even!"
The quads didn't know what the hell Alex was talking about. Kyle did, giving Alex a peck on the lips and agreeing.
Caleb says, "Oh you two guys are so lucky!"
Alex is the one to say, "I take it your old man doesn't like the idea of being around people like us?"
Just then, Silas Chitwood, backed up by his bass guitarist, Gregg Underwood, approach, Silas replying to Alex's question, "He's a fuckin' homophobic bastard. You have to watch out what you say and do around the guys. If it was my father and he treated me like he does his boys, I'd kick him between the legs and put him out of business for life." And nonchalantly, after being steamed up over the treatment, "Any of you guys have any extra guitar strings. Gregg broke his G string!"
Even though things were of a serious nature, Kyle picks up on it, saying, "Oh really? I might be able to help fix it!"
Alex, smiling because it was funny, says, "Don't mind Kyle. He doesn't know anything about guitars!"
"Do too, Alex....."
And as the two do friendly battle, engaging Gregg, Caleb is all eyes with Silas Chitwood. Jason, one of the guitarists for 'Sentinel', helps Gregg with his 'G string'!
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Copyright 2010 T. Chase McPhee
`For Sale By Owner: CK's Stud Muffin Party' may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.
The more you stretch, the more you can fit in... 'spread' happiness! TCMcP.....