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.
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RancH HanDs 03
a continuation of `CoMPany payLoaD' WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
%
James had only closed his eyes for a moment, about a minute before Laurent exited the shower.
Shaking the bed walked up the bed on hands and knees, doggie style, James saying of the quake, "Ya scared the shit outta me!"
"What'dya want me to do," Laurent says, glancing down at James' bare pubes, "knock?"
"Something," James replies with attitude.
Seeing a change in his lover, Laurent says, "How about some affection?" Instead of lip action, Laurent's shoulders dip, his mouth opening.
What at disappointment!
All ready to take the plunge, mouth wide open, anticipating taking cock up to the tonsils, only to have James' own hand seal off his soft, juicy meal.
"You're gonna ruin my taste buds, James!"
It was an attempt to enliven James' spirits, but became an epic fail. Forgetting about sucking his cock into prime fucking condition, Laurent took to pillowing his head, but not too harshly, at least making a last ditch effort, his tongue coasting right up James' bod-trail.
"What's with you anyway?"
"I dunno," James replies, but at least in agreement `something' was wrong.
Like hacking James' thoughts, he says, sliding his bod a bit to the right, top of his shoulder slipping into James' left pit-pocket, "Bet I do?"
"What?" James badgers, knowing what the outcome of Laurent's discovery.
"Dear ole brother, `Tom?'" He just smiled and waited.
"Do you realize we haven't seen him for over two hours?"
A hand grazing up James' right side, the part of his flesh not covered with Laurent's own `bear' bod, he replies, "Haven't I told you time, and time, and time again, James..."
"I know," James jumps in, "I don't have to worry because he's with Tony and if he's with Tony, he's in safe hands, but..."
"No buts, besides, my love," getting personal, whimsically running a finger around the circumference of James' right nip, which doesn't go unnoticed by James' nads, "Tom is a twenty-three year old man and you have to get used to the fact he's out in the world with a man he cares about, having a wonderful man at his side?"
"You're not saying it, just because you're his uncle?"
Toying with James, but sending a message, "You want me to slap these pecs till they're beet red?"
"No offense," still with attitude, "but I don't think you really want to?!"
"No," Laurent confesses, "but anytime you want to try it out on me, I think I could go for it?"
"You're evading the issue!" James replies, already swaying towards Laurent's way of thinking this through.
"I love Tony dearly," Laurent answers heart-rendering, "but over the past few weeks I have also learned to love and admire Tom."
Smirking, because his attitude was lightening up, "Not because he's good at ball torture?"
"No-o-o-o, I have a perfectly good ball torturer right here," his index finger makes an indentation in James' chest.
"I'm good at it, am I?"
"Yes," Laurent does a push up, "very, but right now I have to think about getting over to the kitchen?"
"Wait a minute. I thought working in a kitchen was your `cover?'"
"You'll learn! Nobody gets a free ride at the habitat!"
He wanted to make an exit from the bed, James holding him down, a hand around Laurent's nuts, `choking' them!
"Are you sure you have to go?" James asks, the devil's torture on his mind.
"I suppose if I don't want to walk around `ball-less'...."
Not the only one on a fixed time schedule for the rest of the afternoon, James convinces' Laurent to stay', his grip on him a powerful one. Loosening his hand muscles, the two concentrate on some lip-locking, leaving the other part of their relationship, special play which helps to make their coming together `work', for later.
About thirty seconds into the kissing, Laurent again breaks loose, this time on `grope-alert', "We better get going before we're both fired!"
Laurent made it clear of the bed, James reverting to his hands-behind-his-head position, flaunting those dark, hairy pits, "Oh sure. At least you know what you'll be doing. Probably I'll be working out in the hot sun all day!"
Smiling, Laurent says, as he steps into some boxer briefs, "Yeah, along with fifty other hot dudes?"
"Hmm," James' face changes to deep thought, "I never thought of it that way!"
"Might find yourself some hot little cock-slave boy?" He laughs, pulling on his white kitchen pants, but leaving the fly open.
"Why would I want a cock-slave, when I've already got one?"
Laurent, feeding his arms into a white shirt, "Because, why should this place be different from any other place on earth?"
"Oh? How's that go?"
"First factor, about ninety-five percent of Elemental Habitat is gay." A laugh precedes, "The other five percent haven't come around yet!"
"Your point?" James finally stirs, sits on the side of the bed.
Tucking his buttoned shirt into his pants, "Even though the motto goes, `all work and no play', well, whoever sticks to the rules a hundred percent of the time?"
Rising up from the bed, James sashays over to Laurent in a `John Wayne' swagger, "Oh really. So you plan on having some fun in the kitchen?"
Changing from an upbeat attitude, Laurent's face turns sour, "Oh no. That's not what I'm trying to say at all, James."
Seeing he hit a nerve, James replies, "I'm sorry," he moves his hands up and down Laurent's hairy forearms, "I wasn't meaning something like you were going to cheat on me and.."
Laurent butts in, "Same here. I only thought maybe if you met up with some dude," he now jokes, "who wants to be slapped around..."
Admitting it, James says, "Yeah, I might find some dude who's hot on a little bdsm, but I wouldn't go as far as raping his ass!"
Feeling proud, one of the things running through Laurent's mind, he replies, as he turns the tables on James, groping his bundle, "Saving all this rich protein for me, huh?"
"I've changed Laurent."
"I know."
"You know?" Since he wanted to hear it first from his lover, James held out on his true feelings.
"Sure," he drops his hold on James' anatomy, switching to a comfortable feel-up, hands gliding up the torso. "Even though I think you should learn to let go of Tom, in time it will happen, as our relationship grows?"
Meant to stimulate thought, James follows through, "I should be at ease, knowing at least he's with somebody we know?"
Batted back in Laurent's court, "Right, and I hate to rush things, but I got to report to the kitchen or I will have a thousand hungry mouths complaining to me?"
"I can't even imagine it!"
Laurent, knowing `hungry', in the sexual sense, clears up one last question between them, "Fucking is out, but sucking is in?"
%
"Dr. Jack Love?" Eamon read off the paper handed to him, after a visit to human resources.
Looking up from his microscope and removing his glasses, allowing the chained spectacles to flop to his chest, the scientist gets up and with a welcoming hand, "You must be my new assistant?"
He was, Eamon warning him, "I am, but did they tell you I haven't much experience other than high school science?"
After shaking hands, Dr. Love replies to Eamon's query, "Everybody's got to start some place!" Then he cuts right into, "By the way, you look much better than the picture in your file. Lucky Patrick Riley, he's always got the luck of the Irish behind him!"
"You know Patrick?" It also was on Eamon's mind, how Dr. Love knew he and Patrick were together, but one question at a time!
"Know Patrick? Why, we're like this," Dr. Love holds two fingers together. "We're like two peas in a pod!" He laughs. "Get it?"
Sometimes Eamon could be slow, but right now he could not draw up any correlation, "Sorry, but I don't."
"I like that!"
"Like what?"
"There's not many who ask for explanation. They would rather think they are doing the correct thing, when... In reality they get into trouble and then think afterwards, `If I had only asked!' By then it's two late and..."
Eamon was about to find out something not explained in any rule book.
"Whenever a ranch hand gets into trouble, they have to go see Art Smith."
"Art Smith? Who's Art Smith?"
"Head of security, but also, off the cuff, he takes charge of disciplinary measures."
"What does he do?" Eamon asks. "Make'em peel potatoes? Stay in their room? Suspend privileges?"
"Let me clue you into something, Eamon," Dr. Love leans his ass on the edge of his computer desk, "None find it fun to be incarcerated in their room or suspension of privileges, especially banned from Atlantis."
"I hear it's a nice place," Eamon replies.
"More' than a nice place. Atlantis is thee' place. Nope, you don't want to miss out on the swimming, the parties and everything else connected with Atlantis," he builds up.
"Okay, so what's the story with Art Smith?"
"Well!" Dr. Love exhales a deep breath and stands.
Same moment, the computer table, on wheels, decides to take a journey.
"Oh no! Oh no-no-no-no-no! No-o-o-o!"
Dr. Love's ass falls off the edge of the table, him hitting the floor. Eamon goes to his aid, asking, "Need a hand?"
Right before Eamon takes Love's hand, they hear a cracking sound.
Turning his head around, being pulled up simultaneously, Dr. Love says with haste, "I think we better go!"
Go they did and as they closed the door to the hallway, they could hear glass shattering.
Of course it could be heard elsewhere, which in a glass enclosed enclave, the sound being one nobody wanted to hear.
"Dr. Love, you alright?"
Eamon turns his head. Right next to him is standing a dude in a light green, cotton shirt, resembling a hospital garment. Beyond, he sees other `green men' running this way.
"Fine, just fine."
Little did Eamon know, until he turned back to Dr. Love, this dude wasn't only interested in the biologist!
Getting snagged, the dude says, "Hi there."
Eamon learns his name, when Dr. Love says sarcastically, "Johnny, you want to play meet and greet later? We got an emergency on our hands?"
Opening the door, there were shards of glass everywhere, large, small and tiny. Part of the wall was still standing.
"Oh my god! The orchids!" Johnny says with concern.
Eamon watches as, not Dr. Love, but Johnny takes the helm on things, getting the crew to quickly retreat from the direction they came.
Even though orchids could be temperature sensitive, Johnny braces a hand on the corner of the hallway, turning half his bod back, yelling, "Catch up with you later Eamon!"
`Strange,' Eamon thought, he hadn't given his name. Then again, Dr. Love already knew who he was too!
"I think this is a good time for a tour!"
"What about your office?"
"Johnny can handle everything."
If Johnny could handle everything, Eamon was wondering why he was chosen as assistant, his first question to Dr. Love.
He goes on to explain, "Elemental Habitat is not just a holding tank for agents in between cases, or the occasional hitchhiker wandering too close to habitat grounds. Everybody who works here, is placed in an area depending on need, but with intention the position will grow on the ranch hand and he will want to pursue the interest handed to him."
"Ranch hands," Eamon says, looking for definition.
As he says it, they round the corner, running smack in to two guys, in the alcove of a door way.
Dr. Love scolds, "You want Art Smith to catch you two with your hands up each other's shirt?"
They scattered, saying it won't happen again.
"They should know better."
Eamon asks, "Art Smith, he's a feared man, huh?"
"Can be. If you keep your nose clean you'll hardly notice he's around. You do stupid stuff and you'll get tired of seeing him. And like I warned those two just now?
"Yeah?"
"Never fails when a pair of boilermakers gets in the middle!"
"Boilermakers?" Eamon didn't get it.
"Boiling balls, boiling with..."
"Oh, I get it," Eamon laughs.
"Where were we?"
"On the way to show me Atlantis and explain about ranch hands?"
"Oh yes!"
They didn't get to Atlantis or near there, Johnny running up the hallway, "We've got a problem, Dr. Love. The temperature is dropping fast... too fast!"
A moment of dire stress, Johnny still found a second, carving out tiny digits of time to glance into Eamon's eyes, crack a tiny smile, then pay attention to Dr. Love.
Eamon wasn't at all perturbed about his guided tour, missing the stop-off at Atlantis. He jogged along with Johnny, as Dr. Love walked briskly. Like they had known each other for decades, Johnny talked while they lifted arms, matching steps closing the distance between where they met up at their destination.
He was amazed, "Fixed the wall already?" he says, sticking his head in the door.
"Yeah. That's not the problem though," Johnny said, latching onto Eamon's arm, "C'mon," and pulling him back into the hallway.
Ready to run, Dr. Love was only catching up, saying, "You go ahead. I'll catch up."
Dr. Love might have arrived on the campus of Elemental Habitat same time as Patrick, but didn't mean they matched in age. Patrick at age nineteen, Jack Love had already been a seasoned professional at biology and environmental studies. At the time it didn't phase Patrick, the age difference, old enough to almost be his father. Jack always there for him. At the time, he thought of him as a stealth man, always energetic when in bed. Their relationship worked out very well on a versatile basis.
They had an ongoing joke, Jack being a size nine, cock, not shoe, and Patrick diminished by a couple of inches. Patrick would always say it wasn't fair. Not having the right place, nor proper time to explain, soon he would, get it off his mind, sharing with Eamon, regarding the first time he allowed a man to fuck him, drawn in by wanting to know how it felt to have a nine inch nail inside him.
"You boys go ahead," Dr. Love said, catching up on his breath at his office, which miraculously had been swept clean of most debris and the glass wall fixed with a temporary replacement.
Their conversation was brief, Johnny answering in between breaths, Eamon's questions regarding his length of duty at the habitat.
Standing at the door, watching `green men' at work, Eamon says, "Mind if I ask you something?"
"Sure," Johnny says, but his mind on the transferring of plants.
"No, maybe this isn't the time," Eamon decides.
More proof Eamon should ask his question, Johnny says, "It's okay. I think they've got a hand on things."
Watching about twenty-five guys in green working together to clean up spilled dirt, plants and delicately handling them, gave him more incentive to ask, "Why is it I'm being made Dr. Love's assistant and not you, Johnny? Seeing you in action, it seems like you've got it all together?"
"At twenty years old, I don't think I'm ready for it. Besides, after making a royal mess up, which caused the habitat quite a few plants... I want to learn about how everything goes before making any more mistakes. Make sense?"
Eamon says, "Yes and no," but he combined both into one equation. "People make mistakes, Johnny."
Even though the two had met only minutes ago, Johnny didn't mind at all, Eamon placing a caring hand on his left shoulder. Reaching up with the opposite hand, he glances first, then brushin over the top of Eamon's hand, "I suppose so."
By now Johnny's attention was totally affixed to Eamon's face. The two stare deeply into each other's eyes.
A tender moment could have occurred, except Dr. Love had finally caught up to the two. He hardly noticed anything, pinning his back to the wall and breathing heavily, saying, "I finally... Whew! Caught up to you two!"
Breaking his hold on Eamon, Johnny walks over to him, saying, "Are you okay Dr. Love?"
"I'll be," he exhaled with a whistle, "fine."
Not believing him, Johnny reaches for the fifty-seven year old doctor's wrist, reporting, "Your pulse is racing!" Same time, Johnny's head is switching around, looking for something.
"What are you looking for?" Eamon asks.
There was a long cart of new seedlings in the hallway, one of the duties on the ranch hands, assigned to Dr. Love's care, abandoned for the moment.
"Here. Help!" Johnny says, commenting, "I know I'm going to hear about this!" Taking his arm, wiped the top of the rolling table free of individual containers of seedlings.
"You're gonna be okay I think," Eamon assures Dr. Love, after taking Johnny's place at keeping the biologist pinned to the wall.
Together, they lay Dr. Love down on the table, like a hospital gurney, Johnny taking on the job steering down the corridor, Eamon providing the motorization.
Swarming out of the orchid lab, a small portion of the thirty-eight workers in this unit sees Johnny and Eamon in the distance, Dr. Love atop the table for the free ride.
Dillon Li steps out from the herd, with direction, "Get the brooms. We've got to clean this mess up before Art Smith finds out!"
While Marco, Lance, Noah, Ricky and Scott ran off to get clean up apparatus, Dillon stands there, appointing himself foreman over Samele, Derek, Hunter, Joe and Steve, "Careful. Make it look like the seedlings are brand new."
Hunter, knowing the score with Johnny, says, "Yeah, I think Johnny learned his lesson for a lifetime not to mess with Art Smith!"
They all agreed, but on the side, Noah and Scott secretly didn't side with the consensus of the group. Out of the corners of their eyes they signaled something which made both draw a smile to their lips. Probably they were on the same wavelength, reflecting on Art Smith's way of dealing with justice and their nads pulsing at the thought of corporal punishment!
%
Laurent did make it sound like it a dire need to get to the kitchen and back to work, but it didn't hurt him to stop for an hour to have a little `protein drink'.
With Laurent ready', James reaches to the night table, picking up a tab of paper and asking as he read, "Where do I find this Dutch'... Is he really Dutch?"
"Dutch as Dutch can get!" Laurent replies, putting the finishing touches on his outfit, tucking his shirt into his pants before zipping up.
Turning the paper over and rescanning the front, James observes, "Doesn't say where I can find him?"
"Right, because Dutch is a tough man to locate. Your best bet is to check at the main desk. Remember seeing it as we came in the arboretum?"
"Right, but like there wasn't anybody maning the desk?"
Laurence replies, "It's automated. All you do is look up the name in the electronic book, press a button and most likely in a few minutes Dutch will find you!"
James jokes, "Cuts down on a hot guy sitting behind the desk?!"
"Then again," Laurent picks up his `doctor bag' of kitchen knives, "there's plenty of others to feast your eyes on!"
Of which James has yet to visualize the scope of Laurent's meaning. After a love peck on the cheek, he's left James still lying there in bed, splayed out in the raw. Thinking about it, instead of facing reality of his new life, James' hand has found himself less than semi-soft, lightly stroking while studying the piece of paper in hand. "Dutch Stroot, huh?" Suddenly he has a burning desire, after reading the name over and over, to set his eyes on the man.
"Hey, wait a minute!" James slaps an arm down to his side, stopping the toying with his semi-soft cock, "He didn't tell me what I would be doing!" Sitting up on the side of the bed, James thinks out loud, "Which gets me wondering!"
Filling up his mind with Dutch Stroot's various stats, it catapults James out of bed and into the shower.
%
"Seems strange. Very strange. Very, very strange."
By the third hint, Nolan had given Hewy incentive to question, "What's very,' very' strange, Nolan?"
"Oh, then you `are' paying attention?"
Upon moving into the arboretum, suite 5, Hewy had set forth to investigate the surroundings. In a draw he had found a former occupant's stash of gay magazines; Instinct', Men', Freshmen', Compete',Genre', and Out', which Hewy had chosen to flip through on account of Ben Cohen's picture on the cover.
"This man sure is beautiful!"
"Have you heard a word I've said, Hewy?" Though now, paying attention to the contents of `Out' magazine, Nolan forgot about his own attire. Staring down from where Hewy had the edge of the magazine resting in his crotch, Nolan says, "Mm-mm, would you look at all that fur!"
"Fur?" Hewy slightly moves the magazine.
Even though Nolan meant' Ben Cohen's nicely combed chest and stomach, he replies, "But of course I meant you'. What do you think?"
"I think you lie."
"Um, really?" Nolan kidded back, giving in to Hewy tugging at the collar of his crew sweater.
In Nolan's face, "Do you know the penalty for lying?"
Lightheartedly, Nolan replies, "Now or later?"
Returning to the original question on Nolan's mind, Hewy replies, "Later. You look too handsome for me to go messing you up!"
Standing, Nolan says of it, "I really wasn't going at this in a vain sense, only for not having to dress up in a suit and tie. Feels good to dress down for work, huh?"
At the mention, Nolan referring to him, Hewy grabs the 8x10 print out from the nightstand and read, "Good for you, but what am `I' supposed to wear for," he reads the exact title of his job, "Sustainable Dining?"
"Maybe you'll be peeling potatoes all day!" Nolan laughs.
Getting even, Hewy says, "Then, by the end of the day I will be so tired, I will not be able to stay awake?"
It was the worst case scenario unfolding in Nolan's mind, him cutting to the chase, "No sex?" Swiping the paper from Hewy's hand, "I think we better look into this!"
As it goes, Hewy dresses, while Nolan gets a ringside seat. It wasn't much different, a strip show in reverse, him comparing in his mind, `Forget Ben Cohen!' Ringside as such, there wasn't much to compare, other than Hewy's coat of dark fur, versus Ben's light brown. Instead of the embedded trail down the stomach, Hewy's abs were coated with a dark mass, no distinguishable trace of trail, except between navel and the bush country. Overall, Hewy was a lot more slender than Ben's wide bod.
More or less, a guy would dress in fashion, according to his job and as for Nolan, going from an executive position, to an equivalent of the same, he naturally had more clothes on, then say a `farm hand'.
It was questioned, at time of departure and on the plane trip, how they were going to survive without their most precious, personal belongings. Today they were finding out, dresser loaded with, and what Hewy found amazing, clothes stocked in draws were of the perfect size.
"How do `I' look?"
Nolan was paying attention the whole time, Hewy going from wearing nothing, dressing up in a pair of tightey-whiteys, sitting to put socks on, his hairy stomach wrinkling up, standing upright, stepping into bamboo constructed slacks, fastened a d-loop belt and a basic white v-neck tee to round out the plain-looking ensemble, "My opinion? I though you looked better dressed in nothing!"
Coming right over to Nolan, Hewy made himself comfortable, sitting down on a chair of `thighs', "Me too and I hope I don't get too tired of peeling potatoes!"
At the sound of it, the two quickly made a little kiss-play and then rose up to begin their first day on the job at Elemental Habitat.
Heading out the door of their suite, who should they run into, Nolan calling out, "Demont!"
"Oh hi!" Demont called out, a bit more relaxed than his rough demeanor, only because it was Nolan he was addressing.
"Hi yourself! What have you been up to?" Nolan replies.
Seeing Hewy still hanging with Nolan, Demont was getting the full message, loud and clear, relationship wise and after embracing Nolan, takes Hewy up in his arms, reflecting upon their dungeon play at the `Bear & Grill', "When I first see you, I knew you two were going to pair up!"
With humorous intent, Nolan slips an arm in between, "Okay you two. Break it up!"
They parted, Demont replying to the aforementioned question, "It seems the head of security has reviewed my work history and after a brief interview, has decided to place me in the position of," he had to whip out his assignment, unfolding the paper from a small square, "let me see if I can get this right," he clears his throat like making a presidential speech, "Cybersecurity, Encryption and Criminology. I think maybe they turn me into a James Bond!"
Hewy jokes, "I don't think James Bond was into bdsm!"
Nolan refutes, "More like the real thing!"
The two laugh, Demont asking with sincerity, "What do you think?"
"My question is, `where are you going to learn all of this information, Demont?'"
Answering Nolan, Demont is up front with response, "They are going to send me to college and I will be working very closely with Art Smith."
"Art Smith," Nolan says of first impressions, "to me seems like he can be a rough individual."
"Oh no," Demont says, "your opinion is all wrong. He is really very sweet."
Upon meeting Art Smith for the first time this morning, they hit it off rather well. Talking up particulars outside the realm of happenings at the habitat, Art was picking Demont's brain over a loose subject, "Now say for instance, I had in front of me two suspects from the habitat, a twenty year old and twenty-two year old, found hacking into a government installation. How would you go about their interrogation, Demont?"
Demont well knew what Art Smith was `looking for', but found it hornier to lead him on, "First I would strip them both down."
From the start of Demont's monologue, because he felt no need to interrupt, except the occasional whimper from his hand being in his lap, he drew off Demont's words, "Go on."
It was no different than an experience at the `Bear & Grill', Demont telling about torturing one dude, having the other watch, then perhaps pairing them up in a little friendly ball torture, both ballsacs tied together as they were tethered back to back.
While Demont talked up `backs', Art worked his sacs.
"Speaking of sacs," Demont smiles, "why don't you show me what you're working up there, Art?"
The mention of it, Art had no other interest in the particulars of the interview. "A mouthful!" Art hinted.
"Tell you what?" Demont stands and begins to unbuckle his belt.
"What?" Art was game, seeing the bulge in Demont's pants.
"We measure. Biggest man gets to fill the other man up!"
From the outward appearance, it looked to be a stalemate, but stripped down to the buff, standing side by side, each man holding out his power-sword, they looked to be about the same.
"It looks like `you' are the loser, Art!" Demont laughs, his ten inches lying on the palm of his hand.
Not about to have his ass reamed, Art suggests, "Ruler!"
Making haste to get to his desk drawer, Demont loved watching the thick tool bounce up and down, rebounding off two big globes. He licked his lips, not with the desire to taste, though it hasn't been verboten in dungeon encounter, but whet his lips with intent to torment the loaded sacs.
"Wouldn't be a fair analysis unless we measured?" Art holds up a 12-inch ruler.
"Bring it on!"
%
Still droopy from the falling out over his hyped up career in modeling, Denis Crew whines over the paper in his hand, "I suppose this isn't too bad news, but I'd like to know how modeling fits into," he reads, "report to `Textiles & Clothing' facility?"
They had lay there in bed until the alarm went off for the second time, at precisely 8:40 in the morning. Terry was the first to rise and shine, leaving Denis to slumber. Taking exit from the shower, he began dressing, getting as far as sheeting his cock and balls in a pair of low rise briefs, a moment before Denis stir awoke.
Looking too good to abandon, Terry makes a dive for the bed, grabbing the paper from Denis' hand, "Lemme see!"
"Hell, that was rude!" Denis replies, his hand still out like he was holding the paper.
"Shuddup. I'm thinking!"
While his twenty-one year old lover is analyzing the reverse side of the paper, Denis takes opportunity to cuddle up, lying on his side, working a hand up the flanks of the right side of Terry's rib cage, mass of light brown chest hair, swiping it down over his bellyhole, the briefs putting a damper of further feel-up.
"Okay, so it doesn't say anything about modeling, but I think we'll both be learning about, as it says here, `Design, Dying and Maintenance,' which translate, it's good to go beyond flaunting your hot bod. What do you think?" he turns to Denis.
"What about `your' hot bod?" Denis asks, fingertips trespassing.
"Feels nice, but we better get ready. Did you read the fine print?"
Terry had already outweighed the options, allowing Denis' fingers to explore or adhere to `the fine print'.
"No. Why do you think I have you?"
Terry replies, factiously, "It's nice to feel wanted," but clears his throat, "says here, be prompt or else!"
"Or else?" Denis asks.
A hand stopping a hand, Terry tells it like it is, "Or begin accumulating `tardy demerits?'"
"Like how does that go?" Denis tries pressing the issue of Terry's elastic waistband.
Juggling the paper one-handed, Terry replies, "Five demerits and the issue of lateness is taken up with security."
"What are they... the cops?" Denis retreats, not getting beyond the stiff particles of northern exposure of pubic particles.
"Not sure, but if we're not at the breakfast table by nine o'clock, we'll be on our way to finding out. And something tells me it would not be in our best interests?"
Ending his little speech, Terry had tossed the paper to the sheet and wrapped Denis up in his arms.
No sooner had he done so, Denis is interrupting the tender moment, "I'm kind of hungry anyway."
What could Terry do but smile. There Denis hustled around, trying to find the towel hidden under his clothes, thrown over the easy chair from last night, with haste and heated desire to crash into the mattress. Relaxing, because he was all showered up, he sighed at the `find' of a lifetime, his smooth lover racing about, the flabby cock swinging around. He pinches together his ass lips, thinking of how hot it was last night, when that soft tool was hard and penetrated deep within!
While Denis hit the shower, Terry sprung out of bed, at the sound of a knock on the door. He didn't think anything of being only in briefs, as he responded to the figure filling the doorway, "Adam?"
"Hi. Sorry to interrupt," Denis' older brother says, eyes scanning the full figure, down to the bulge and back, staring, "I wanted to tell Denis `I'm here!'"
Frankly, the two hadn't talked up Denis' brother and in all respect could have been misconstrued as uncaring attitude. However, Terry wasn't about to give in to those types of thoughts, "Denis missed you so much!"
Not what Adam supposed, the twenty-seven year old's opinion, as Terry gave him a buddy-hug. After the short show of affection, Adam asks, "Where is Denis?"
"In the shower." Because Terry was taken up with Adam's looks, not that it's the first time he's laid eyes on him, the two brothers having the same features, right down to the blond hair and blue eyes, "I was about to take one myself. Care to join me?"
It was a joke! Terry had already showered!
However, a latecomer to the habitat, Adam was feeling a little scuzzy from the multi-hour plane trip and unlike most of the inhabitants, was over-dressed for the indoor temps. "I might take you up on that," Adam replies in a joking manner, because he felt it was the way the offer was given. However, he did make amends, "I haven't been assigned a room yet, some kind of flub-up. After you and Denis are finished, I'll take you up on your offer?"
As he said it, dressed half and half, Denis with towel around his waist, says with shock, "Adam?"
"Hey little bro," Adam replies, walking over to Denis, saying, "Uh, I'd hug you but I feel all scuzzy from the plane and..." staring his bro from eyes to towel, "you smell so good?"
From Terry's view, he could see the brotherly affection, Denis not caring if Adam was `over ripe', taking him in his arms and a deep hug.
"It's good to see you. Where are you staying?"
"Don't know. I was supposed to bunk with one fellow in a `Garden Cottage', but they picked up some guy within the security perimeter and he arrived before me."
"I was talking with one of the security personnel," Terry interjects, "and it happens. Hiker or somebody who has lost there way, gets too close to the habitat and security bells go off. Depends on their story, if they are turned loose or kept on."
There were many things which were of question with Elemental Habitat, one big one, how did it come to be inhabited by so many gay guys? Terry for one felt every question could not be answered, but rather they would discover the history of Elemental Habitat in time.
As for now, Terry says, "We better get going."
Adam asks, "Oh but, aren't you going to take a shower?"
Denis replies, "Terry already took his shower."
Snagged!
Smirking, Adam caught on real quick, "Already took your shower, Terry?"
Denis went about his business as Terry's face blushed!
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Copyright 2011 T. Chase McPhee
`CoMPany payLoaD' - RancH HanDs may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.