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.
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NOVEMBER knockout 03 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"Have you figured out what we're going to be doing J-C?"
From roughly a half hour sleep, after Jean-Claude mulled over in his brain till about five-thirty this morning, falling asleep and the alarm calling him awake at six, the last thing on his mind was Kevin's employment, as well as the other two, who at four in the morning, sought out the same information by way of Kevin's followup, staring at him. "I might have a solution. At least it might keep you all busy for awhile. I got a call from Aldo Biancoli. He's moving his florist business to New Jersey, in fact not far from here..."
"Really? Cool!" Kevin says excitedly. "Maybe we can hit him up for some jobs!"
A look comes over Jean-Claudes face.
"What?" Kevin asks.
"It's the very reason I was bringing it up, but of course you will have to make all the arrangements with Aldo, if you wish to pursue. I think it is a good 'in' for you and Tariq."
"Me too?" Tariq says. "It would be so cool! But what about Emre?"
Having a flashback to much earlier in the morning, Jean-Claude dwells on Emre not only loving his brother very much, but Tariq taking the initiative to ask about Emre's welfare. "Emre will come with me to the office and we'll see what he can learn before he gets to college."
"So what kind of help do you think Aldo needs, J-C?" Kevin asks.
"I haven't a clue. You will have to work it out with him."
"Cool! I wonder how much he pays. Do you have a number where I can call?"
Very glad Kevin is taking on some responsibility, Jean-Claude thought maybe there is more in Kevin than lifting heavy bricks!
"What's all the jabberwocky going on down here?"
"I thought you were sleeping in?" Jean-Claude asks Brendan.
"I 'was', but with all the racket coming from the kitchen..."
"Where's my good morning kiss, Bren?" Kevin asks, after Jean-Claude gets one.
"Right here," Brendan says, pulling up the side of his bathrobe, revealing his lily white ass cheek. "Anytime you're ready Kev!"
"Sorry," Kevin replies, "I already had my breakfast!" And before Brendan can get retribute, "J-C, you got Aldo's number?"
"I'll get it for you."
While he was out in the foyer, rifling through the paper where he wrote it down, he listened to Kevin tell Brendan about his future employment, Tariq chiming in. When it came Emre's turn, it made Jean-Claude smile to think of Emre being so thankful for the opportunity he was giving him, him working at the office. Before he left the foyer, the phone rings, Jean-Claude blurting out, "I'll get it!" After small talk, Jean-Claude shows at the kitchen doorway, "It's for you Bren... Mike Knight."
"I wonder what he wants?"
"If it's your ass, tell him it's taken!" Jean-Claude says cunningly as Brendan grabs the phone, passing him by, intently a hand rubbing against the front of his robe.
Kevin yells, "Hurry up Bren! I want to use the phone!"
"So, what do you think I will be doing at the office, J-C?" Emre asks.
It was a one on one conversation, Kevin and Tariq standing impatiently at the door, waiting for Brendan to say something like 'goodbye'.
"Right now I'm not sure, but as soon as we get there and look over the projects we have before us, I'm sure we can come up with something. But what do you envision yourself as doing?"
"I like to do the garden in the back, but it is too cold and I do not think it would be good to lay down slates in the winter time."
"True," Jean-Claude replies, knowing how the cold freezes the ground, then comes spring and summer, it swells up again. "So we'll go to the office today and see where it leads, okay Emre?"
"Sure. I trust you."
And shedding some overtones, "Brendan and I are very fond of you, Kevin and Tariq. You are like family to us."
"I hope someday Tariq and I can repay you for your kindness, Jean-Claude."
Puzzled, Jean-Claude asks, "What happened to the 'J-C'?"
"I don't think it will sound professional at the office," Emre replies.
"I'll leave 'that' up to you!"
"Guess-what, guess-what, guess-what?" Kevin comes into the kitchen, all psyched up.
Before either Jean-Claude or Emre can guess, Tariq, equally excited, announces, "Kevin and me... we have some jobs!"
"You talked to Aldo?"
"No," Kevin replied, Jean-Claude showing wonder on his face.
Brendan too showed, exuberance in his outlook, but let Kevin and Tariq have first dibs at their news.
"No?" Jean-Claude questions him.
"Aldo's assistant, Rahmi, answered the phone at the shop. He says Aldo is not closing the New York City store, but is expanding to New Jersey."
"Ah-h-h-h, I see," Jean-Claude replies. "I must've got the story wrong."
"Guess what else?" Tariq asks, immediately replying, "We can start today!"
"But Rahmi and Aldo are in the city?"
Emre, sitting on the sidelines with Brendan, is taking it all in. Unlike very early this morning, he feels good about Tariq's excitement in finding a job. Too, it is good he will be working with Kevin.
"Right," Kevin replies, "but he is driving a truckload of shit out here and all we have to do is be at the new location to help unload it."
"Sounds like you have things under control. Did he mention money?"
"No, but I did!" And Kevin was proud as hell, telling his audience about wheeling and dealing and getting the best dollar for their labor.
"Medical insurance too? You are quite the businessman Kevin!"
"Right and if I like working around the flower shop, Rahmi says there's a chance to move up. Cool, huh?"
"As long as it doesn't jeopardize the plans we've made for you attending college."
They all halted, Kevin speaking and the others listening, for Brendan to let out a huge vocal yawn. "Oh, sorry," and to Jean-Claude in particular, "I called out, but I can't take the trip to see the new beach house."
Before Jean-Claude could ask why, Kevin was on him, "What new beach house?"
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Across town, Dario was just waking up, rolling out of bed and headed for the jon for his morning relief.
Right behind him, his cousin Mark shows, asking, "I had a nice time last night."
"Are you talking about dancing our asses off at Paradise or the paradise you and I had in the sheets?"
"Why don't we go back to bed so I can make up my mind?" Mark put his arms in between Dario's arms and ribs, hugging him with his piss-erection nuzzling his ass crevice.
"If I squirt this all over the place, Mark..."
"Mm-m-m, can I clean it up?" Mark replied.
"You're so gross man! Don't expect 'me' to get involved with any of that kinky stuff you and your friends do!"
"Why not Dario? Maybe you and Tariq would like to come party with us!" Mark says, walking away.
Finishing up, with a squeeze up his barrel and shaking it, Dario is speaking before he even follows Mark into the bedroom. Mark then goes to the jon, assuming 'the position' as he takes a leak, Dario following him, standing in the doorway as he says, "Don't even think about it Mark. I never involved myself with that waterboarding stuff..."
Mark laughs his ass off, saying, "Stoopid! Watersports you idiot!"
"Well the kind of watersports I like, doesn't involve drinking recycled beer and don't even suggest anything like that to Tariq." Dario excuses himself without saying so.
Seeing Dario totally serious, Mark walks over to where he is finding himself a tee shirt from the dresser drawer. Placing his arms around Dario, this time he zeros in on his pecs, giving his nips a little squeeze.
"Oh-h-h-h-h... don't do that man! Oh-h-h-h fuck!" Dario replies, when Mark continues. Encouraging, rather than shooing him away, he places his hands behind his head, elbows high, stretching his pecs out.
"By now I should know all your weak spots, huh Dare?"
"Yeah, well don't you go saying anything to Tariq neither about us sleeping together."
"You don't know, Dare. Maybe Tariq will go for a threesome!"
That did it, Dario lowering his arms, cutting off the pleasuring of his nips.
"Oh come on man," his cousin complains, "I was just about ready to give you a hot blowjob!"
"Not anymore," Dario replies, laying out some jeans and the tee shirt he picked out, some lowrise CK's and socks. "I really like Tariq and I want to make it work."
"I thought you were into muscle guys?" Mark says, still on his knees even though Dario has gone on with his morning prep. "Tariq is like a skinny wimp."
"I like you Mark, so where's your logic?"
"Hey, nothing wrong with my stomach. I like hanging around with my 'bear' friends for your information!"
"Like I didn't know dah! Besides, with some help I bet Tariq could put some muscle on that bod of his."
"To each their own," Mark replies. "So you hooking up with Tariq today?"
"I'm going to call him in a few minutes, go to my classes and then find out what he's up to."
Finally standing, Mark freshens up his cock and balls, tumbling them around with one hand. "I betcha Kevin's hot in bed?"
"He's hooked up with Emre, so leave Kevin alone, okay Mark?"
"I think Kevin's an adventurous dude. Maybe he'd like to hang out with me this weekend."
"Mark, get your mind off of Kevin. I fuckin' told you he's partnered off with Emre."
"Whatever you say, Dare," Mark replied. "Doesn't hurt to keep an open mind!"
But Dario's known his cousin since the two of them grew up from grammar to high school, living in upscale Greenwich, Conneticut. Early on, they both discovered their 'special selves', which led to innocent boyhood discoveries about their anatomy. Entering high school, a peculiar incident, Mark's father being accused of a Ponzi scheme, his mother involved also, took them away from him. Sympathetic to their neighbors and being a fine Christian family, Dario's parents saw fit to take in the lone sibling. Often, when the parents were away, Dario's father on business, the house mother, which was usually a college guy from the church the family went to, minded his own business. And while, David attended to the babe he had over, Dario would attend to 'his' 'babe'!
"Hey, Mark," Dario tenderly caved in, walking over to him, bowling him over on the rug, laying his bod on top of Mark's, "we both knew this day would come for both of us. I can't help it if I beat you to it!"
"I know," Mark replied, accepting the truth.
And before he did a pushup, getting up, Dario gave Mark a tender, sweet French kiss.
"Can we at least get together once in awhile, Dare? I know I'm really going to miss your cock!"
"I don't think so Mark. Sorry."
"You're really serious about Tariq, aren't you?" Mark asks, joining Dario on his feet.
"I told you. He really turns me on."
Half leaning on the jon vanity, so he's facing Dario and not talking with his reflection, Mark says, "Don't forget to tell him about your sensitive nips!" Arms extended, he tweaked Dario's nips, giving the two pec spots a mighty grab, pull and twist!
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With the boys off and running, getting ready to make their employment rendezvous, Jean-Claude pours two mugs of coffee, setting one in front of Brendan and asking, "So, what's the good news from Mike Knight?"
Suddenly, Brendan was as live-wired as Kevin, telling, "Mike says there's an opening for a campus security specialist at Brookdell Community College. The security manager up and left suddenly, defecting to Lucent. Mike says they're pretty hardup for a director."
"Hardup, huh?" Jean-Claude says, bearing a smile. "Sorry," he responds to Brendan's reaction.
"Anyway, if I want a stab at it...."
Jean-Claude could have had a field day with this too!
"I have to get my resume together like 'pronto'. I hope it's okay I gave him your email?"
"Knowing Mike Knight, I'll probably start getting male enhancement spam, but it's okay!"
"Good thing you don't need any!"
"Thanks for your support Bren."
"So, what do you think?"
"About male enhancement?" Another cocky look, told Jean-Claude Brendan wasn't talking about big dicks, but Jean-Claude knew that anyway. "What I think is, if you really want it, go for it, but will this position be something you will enjoy? You should ask yourself, 'will this be challenging enough for me to want to stick with it for as long as I am employed?' I mean, it doesn't mean you can't move on to a higher position either at the college or a corporation."
"It all sounds logical, but the way Mike talks it's a good, solid position."
"Solid, eh?"
"And you tell me I'm always horny?" Brendan questions him.
With a smile, Jean-Claude asks, "So, this is going to interfere with our little drive down to the beach, is it?"
"Mike knows all the higher eschelon at the college and can set me up for an interview. I have to call him back after I get the email naming all the specifics."
"Well, Bren, then maybe I'll have to take the trip alone."
"Why don't you take a trip to Brookdell with me. While I'm attending the interview, you can sit on a bench and watch all the hot frat-guys stroll by?"
"Now that's a thought! Maybe one of them will invite me up to their dorm room!"
"That's one thought I don't like!"
"Just kidding Bren. Just kidding!"
Brendan knew he was and the two shared some light humor, elaborating on 'the guy' inviting Jean-Claude 'up to his room' and named 'things' they would be doing!
"We're ready," Kevin said, him and Tariq dressed in jeans and tee shirts, Emre in business attire, still wearing the suit he wore to dinner with Josh Dunziger.
"Aren't we forgetting one small detail?" Brendan asks.
"What?" from Tariq, stares from the others seek information.
"School?"
Emre says, "I told him, but does he listen to me?"
"It totally slipped my mind," Jean-Claude says, adding, "What would I do without you Bren?"
"What would 'I' do without 'you'!" This time, instead of Jean-Claude steering the eighteen year old straight, Brendan says, "You know Tariq, it should not be Emre, nor Jean-Claude or myself for that matter who has to remind you about an important thing like going to school. It's there for your benefit. Sure, finding employment is important, but so is school. It's the foundation for your college years and you should figure it in as part of your responsibility, as well as your new job. Know what I'm saying?" Brendan hoped so, because he wasn't too versed on putting thoughts into words on short notice.
"Okay," Tariq replies. He could see he wasn't going to get out of going to school today. Turning to Kevin, "Kev, I get out at noon. Do you think you can come pick me up and I could start work later?"
"If Rahmi still has stuff for us to do." But then he passes on the decision to, "As long as Emre says it's okay?"
Redeeming himself, Tariq asks his brother, "Would it be okay Emre?"
And to show he was loosening the reins, Emre replies, "As Brendan says, you have to accept responsibility."
"Cool!" Tariq says.
Brendan excuses himself, "I better go look for that email from Mike."
"Why don't you print it out and bring it in here. We can go over it Bren."
Then Kevin reminds him, "Do you think you can drive Tariq to school and drop me off at the new shop?"
"Somebody around here better learn to drive!"
"Sorry J-C," Kevin replies, "I sort of learned from one of my friend's, but never really got my license. Do they teach driving in college?"
"I suppose I'll have to set you three up for some lessons. They may offer driver's ed. at your high school Tariq," Jean-Claude said, putting his mug in the sink and making his way to the kitchen door, in transition between there and the bedroom. As he left them, he was all smiles, hearing how excited the trio over their taking up driving!
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"Just act natural. The way you would do it at home, Gazi."
Taylor Ridgestone, the host at the Halloween party back in October, at Gazi's request, got him an interview with Gregg Ballintine, owner and director of Ballintine Studios, producer for worldwide distribution of gay porn movies. He had just given Gazi the thumbs up, sitting there next to Gregg.
"Looks a little nervous," Gregg says.
Taylor responds, "How nervous was I when I did my first movie with you, Gregg?"
Paying attention once again, Gregg yells out, "Cut!"
Gazi, coming out from stage right, dressed in only a pair of lowrise briefs, stopped in his tracks. "I do something wrong again?"
Going on what was just discussed, Gregg walks onto the set, telling Gazi, "You are inexperienced doing this Gazi." Yet, Gregg is not ready to give a hachet job to one of the hottest porn stars in-the-making, not with Gazi's rather well endowed lower region, hot shape of his middle and rather defined mideastern facial features, rounded out with a close-cropped beard, which sets off the rounded out bod. With dollar signs stuck in his mind, he turns back to where Taylor sits, "Taylor, why don't you take some time and go over some routine moves with Gazi. It might make him more relaxed in his role?"
Gazi liked the idea right away, going through some moves with the famous Taylor Ridgestone!
"Sure. I think that will be possible," Taylor said, getting out of his director's chair. "We'll use Studio B."
Unknown to either one of them, even thought Studio B wasn't being used today, Gregg told the crew to keep a low profile, but get some shots. "Especially focus in on Gazi's pubes."
"Yeah," Phil, one of the cam guys says, "those briefs were really bulging."
"You know what they say?" Gregg asks, but answers as well, "The bigger the meat, the bigger the dollar!"
"Hell! If he's 'that' big I'll buy a copy myself!"
Gregg quips, "I hope your lense is big enough!"
Over at Studio B, the twenty-seven year old porn star began Gazi's tutoring with walking out onto the staging area. "You were too stiff. You need to relax. And," Taylor walks, "more like this Gazi," he puts his hands behind his head, "you know, make it look like you're stretching... really show those dark tufts of pit hair." Taylor had to stop and laugh his ass off, Gazi lifting up his arm and taking inventory.
"I do have a lot of hair!"
"You do and later on, when we get to the bed scene I'll show you how I can take care of it!" Taylor said with suggestion.
Gazi came up with a great idea, "Why don't we start with the bed scene and then work on the small parts?"
"I guess I don't have much choice, do I?" Taylor says, Gazi already lifting the tank top off over his head.
"You make me so horny, so now I have to do something about it!"
"I like your logic there, Gazi." Even though Taylor spoke, his eyes were on Gazi's hands, thumbs lifting the elastic over the bulge. "I can do the rest. Why don't you take off your 'wardrobe' and climb into bed. I'll be right with you." As he walked towards one side of the stage, where a fake window was embedded in a wall, Taylor passed to the side of it. "I thought so."
"Oh hi there, Taylor!"
"Don't try that crap on me Phil. What are you doing here?"
"Mr. Ballintine. He said to get some shots of Gazi."
"Not to mention me, Phil?"
"You just happen to be there," Phil tried covering for Gregg.
"I think I have a better idea." Taylor took the twenty-four year old theater arts major, doing a bit of moonlighting today, right out onto the set.
"Who is this hot babe?" Gazi asks.
Phil didn't know what Taylor had in mind till he said, "Give me the camera Phil."
"What do you mean 'give you the camera', Taylor?"
But Gazi knew what Taylor was up to and setting his eyes upon the delicious dish in front of him, Gazi wasn't at all bashful to say, "Come on Phil. You take your clothes off and get over here on my cock!" He had already started firming up his ten incher.
What Phil hadn't mentioned to Gregg, back in Studio A, when they were talking about Gazi's 'package', he was hoping it to substantial size because he loved taking shots of a guy's big cock and balls. Standing up straight from between Gazi's legs he knew what the cock looked like, but didn't have a clue to ball size. He really wanted to, replying, "I don't know Taylor. Mr. Ballintine is counting on me showing him some worthy footage."
"He'll get his footage and tell you what Phil, if you make it 'worthy', I'll give you a couple of hours with me behind closed doors!"
"I'm waiting, Phil," Gazi says, still stroking his pipe, head to the ceiling.
"Strip Phil?" came Taylor's request as he stood there, strap keeping the cam glued to his shoulder.
"No," Gazi differed. "I want to strip him!"
Taylor laughed when Phil got shocked, same time Gazi began owning him, grabbing his tee shirt at the collar and ripping it down the middle.
Almost like doing something erotically sexual, Phil moans, "Oh-h-h-h-h!"
"You take your shirt off, Phil," Gazi dictates.
"Uh... sure," He doesn't hesitate. Then, licking his lips, "You look... scrumptious!"
"And," Gazi lifts his arms and puts them behind his head, "you can start right here. I didn't shower today and my pits are nice and ripe." He lied. He really did shower, but he wanted to see Phil's reaction, which was favorable.
However, it wasn't only Phil's reaction. Taylor, letting the cam slack from his shoulder, "Hey! They were supposed to be mine!"
Looking back and forth to each pit, Gazi says, "There is enough for two?"
Taylor thought on it, making a decision between Gregg's footage or his own 'footage', the short walk to the bed. Too, with Phil standing on the bed and stripping down, it was doubly tempting. He set the cam on the floor and hurried over to the bed so Phil would not get too far ahead of him!
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Kevin peered through the double doors of the soon-to-be florist shop. Right now all he saw was a table with some papers sprawled out on it. "Hey!" he called out when fingers quickly ran down the sides of his bod and stopped. Turning around fast he says, "I should have known it was you Mike!"
"I was passing by and wondered who was loitering in front of the new shop."
"And so you thought you would stop by and harass me?" Kevin jokes.
Mike replies, "Read me my rights. So, what's up with you?"
"My future place of employment," Kevin replies.
"Selling flowers? How sweet!"
"I know it's not as macho as 'baton-twirling'!"
"Twirl it right up your ass if you don't watch your step!"
That's how it went, Kevin and Mike going at it, trying to outdo the other, till it became old.
"So, you're ready to join the work force?"
"Until college starts, then full-time becomes part-time. I hear you got Brendan a job with campus security at Brookdell?"
"Yeah," Mike replies, breathing hot air on his fingertips and buffing them on his uniform. "I'm almost jealous. He's got it made I tell you, with all those hot boys under surveillance!"
"But then again Mike, just think of it... you get to patrol the city streets stalking hot boys to shakedown!"
It was starting up again, the tit-for-tat, but this time the apex of their outdoing the other curtailed with a truck pulling up.
Of course Mike had something to say about the small truck parking within several yellow lines.
Kevin, knowing all too well who had to be behind the wheel, says, "Cut him a break Mike. He's my new boss!"
Looking through the windshield first, Mike had already decided to let him slide. When the operator opened his door, jumped down onto the pavement, then walks around the front, saying, "I'm okay parking here, right Officer?" he knew he made the correct decision. Only detail was to find out if the dude was straight or not!
"Uh, Mike, this is Rahmi Serkin. He's setting up shop here in Jersey," the 'Jersey' lingo was starting embed itself into Kevin's vocabulary with usage, "for Aldo Biancolini."
"Is that so. Well, welcome to Jersey, Rahmi," Mike said, treading lightly on his words as he followed the driver to the back of the truck, tailing him and Kevin.
With precision, doing it over and over again for ages, Rahmi muscles the latch open and throws up the back gating of the truck. "Here," he forces a box into Mike's hands.
"I'm on duty. I'm not supposed to be doing things like this," he reports.
"Fine," he steals the box back. "Kevin?"
Kevin knows Mike Knight is not used to taking orders, mainly giving them and as he takes the box from Rahmi, he nudges him, giving him a sly, toothy smile.
At first disturbed by the comment from Rahmi, Mike quickly mellows out when Rahmi, who has hopped into the back of the truck, is squatting, untying some of the load. Rahmi's jeans have hiked down his ass a fraction, enough for Mike to get a quick peek. "You know, the city often reminds us we should extend ourselves to citizens when in time of need?"
"Good. Take this," he says.
Mike, feet on the pavement, Rahmi up in the truck, gravity did it's best to weigh the box down, Mike almost losing his grip as it was more of less tossed to him. "Who-o-o-oa-the-e-e-re!" he says as it slides down his chest-stomach-pubes, catching it about thigh level. "I think I did something to my back!" he complains, balancing the box, back on the edge of the truck.
Almost in his face, Rahmi turns and says, "I didn't know cops in this town were such wimps!"
Standing there, Mike was floored, his jaw dropped open. "Is that so? Well I'll have you know I've been decorated by the mayor of Asbury Park, not once or twice, but a few times in the past for my service?"
"Suddenly there's a lot of hot air blowing around in here?" Rahmi replies, throwing a tarp off a mound of items.
Coughing, Mike backs off, only to have the box slip. "Oh shit!" he says, his reflexes catching it with his chest butting up against it. "What tha?" he asks.
It wasn't himself doing it. If not for the fast reaction on Rahmi's part, Mike would have been flat-lined out on the pavement, the box bouncing off his stomach. However, do to quick-thinking, Rahmi's hand to Mike's chest, grabbing at his shirt, kept him and the box upright, both from descending to earth.
"Sorry about the uniform," Rahmi said, sitting on the edge of the truck and taking the hand-creases out of the front.
Their eyes locked, something which got Mike to thinking this Rahmi character wasn't as straight as a nail.
He was doubly convinced when Rahmi says to him, "You know, for a wimpy cop you're kind of cute?"
"Really?" Mike said, a grin on his face, with all of Rahmi's past evil deeds towards him instantly forgiven.
'Uh-oh', Kevin is thinking, seeing the two staring at each other, Rahmi's hand grazing the side of Mike's face. He figured this a good time as any to interrupt, "What else you have for me to bring inside?"
Mike takes the box 'he' was supposed to carry inside and shoves it into Kevin's arms, "Here!"
"Wimp!" Rahmi tags Mike, with an addition of a smirky grin.
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"Do you think this would look good, if a row of bushes came around the side of the building, Cody?"
Cody had to stand to look upon the plans for the new mall, a concept involving a low profile of buildings and several courtyards. Walking from computer to where the master plan sat out on a long table, he asks, "Do you mean here, Emre?"
Jean-Claude stood at the door, arms crossed, waiting for nature to take it's course. Seeing the two immersed in Cody's plan, he butt out, "Let me know when you gentlemen are interested in lunch?" He didn't feel at all hurt when instead of looks he got a wave from Cody and Emre saying without looking, "Okay Jean-Claude."
As he closed the door and headed up the hallway, he was greeted by his new receptionist, "Jean-Claude, I have scheduled an appointment with a Mr. Antonio Frisari for..."
"Frisari? Do I know him?" Jean-Claude asks Sebastien.
Sebastien knew Jean-Claude was not too keenly 'fond' of him, but made identification, "Josh Dunzinger's partner?"
"Oh," Jean-Claude's tone of voice dropped several decibels. "So he's sending his partner as his emissary to do his dirty work now?"
Sebastien, who has proven already he can be efficient and professional when it comes to his position, but also going beyond his job sometimes, like carpet-sweeping the front office, replies, "You know I don't become involved with our clients..."
"Now I know," Jean-Claude replies, assuming the position, arms crossing his suit, shirt and tie, in a listening mode.
"I bent my own rules because Antonio... I mean Mr. Frisari started to go off on a tangent, which crossed over from business to personal."
"Are we getting to a point here, Sebastien?" Jean-Claude more than less not wanting to have an interest in the man he loathed.
"It might cool your opinion towards Antonio, to know he fell out of favor with Dunzinger."
It grabbed Jean-Claude's interest immediately, him straightening up his posture. "Fell out of favor, like they are not partners anymore?"
"Got kicked out of the mansion last night with only a suitcase of belongings. He's staying at the Colonial Motel. And to make a long story short, I think he is hitting you up for a job."
"Or rather Dunzinger is implanting one of his 'spies' in my business?" Jean-Claude replies, untrustingly.
"You know, I got the impression Antonio is not at all the person Josh Dunzinger is. In fact I think he came across as a decent, nice person. If anything, I would think if the two have parted ways, Antonio could be looked upon as rather an asset than a liability?"
"You know you're a real shrewdie, Sebastien?"
He smiled, perhaps a little blush showing to his cheeks. "So, is ten minutes from now okay?"
"Ten minutes?" Jean-Claude is floored.
"I'm sorry. I would not have done this to you other than I felt for the guy and Antonio was very honest with me, telling me he had another interview lined up this afternoon. I think you should give him a try."
"Very well."
From hanging around the office, versus his first real day on the job as Jean-Claude's receptionist, Sebastien coaxes him on, "I will have coffee made, and if it is fine with you, I will go out and find some bagels or danish?"
All concerned, with what's been told him, Jean-Claude had a feeling of calmness about, putting his trust in Sebastien. "Sounds like a plan. Don't take long. I'm getting used to you juggling the phones!"
"Thanks," Sebastien took it as a compliment.
"And oh," Jean-Claude says as he eyes Sebastien up, "I think we better see about getting you a more office compatible attire?"
"Oh. The jeans and tee. Yeah. Sorry. Garritt being a student and working in his uncle's bike shop, between the two of us we couldn't come up with anything which resembled a business office dress code. Maybe you could advance me a week's salary?"
A glance to the clock, Jean-Claude replies, "When did you say Mr. Frisari was going to arrive?"
"I'm on my way," Sebastien said.
"Oh wait!"
Turning back, Jean-Claude hurried over to the door with opening his wallet. "I think this might help?"
"What do you want me to do? Buy out the bakery?"
"I want change!" Jean-Claude said, the fifty dollar bill changing hands.
No sooner had Sebastien departed, the glass door opened.
"May I help you?" Jean-Claude, in Sebastien's stead, offered.
"I am Antonio Frisari. Your receptionist made an appointment with you for me and I am very thankful for the time considering the short notice?"
This was a side of the Dunzinger empire he had never seen, somebody actually bowing to him in words, without all the pompous banter he would normally get from Antonio's partner... former partner. Too, he was impressed at the attire; suit, dark tie, white shirt slightly protruding over the bulge of Antonio's stomach. "Jean-Claude Lomberiou," was enough to say, feeling obligated to pull all the stops out and be formal as if talking with one of his highend clients.
"Here is my resume. I think you will find it impressive."
"Why don't we take a look?" Jean-Claude took him into his office. The largest working quarters of the building, it boasted a long table, much like a board member's meeting would sit, two tables used to lay out plans, an enormous desk with a computer and other business items and against a far wall, a cupboard of brushed silver, when opened would accomodate a small gathering for drinks and snacking.
"Very nice tastes you have Mr. Lomberiou."
"Thank you. Feel free to roam!" Jean-Claude replied, now more interested in the resume. As Antonio walked around, taking in the details of the office, small trinkets from past projects and travels, he opened the pale blue folder. A couple of times, while reading the opening stats, he would look up and think to himself, 'Put on a few pounds since he was in college!' and in another spot, 'Thirty-eight years old? Would he still be classified as a cub or a bear?' But then, flipping the page, he took in the details of Antonio's work history. "It says here you terminated your former job four years ago?"
"A 'big' mistake. It's when I met Josh. He more or less talked me out of having to work, saying I wouldn't need to with all the money he had in the bank. But look at me now?"
It seemed to be turning into a gripe session, but Jean-Claude was the type who listened to people's problem and too, he didn't mind at all hearing Josh Dunzinger's put-downs!
Taking a seat, he became more a psychologist, "The first year was great. Second, not bad, but three years into our relationship he had me 'running errands' so to speak in regards to his business. When I was away I knew 'the mouse would play'!"
"Infidelity," Jean-Claude termed it, wanting to smile, but for Antonio's sake kept his private grudging to himself.
"Exactly. I knew exactly what was going on."
"Why didn't you up and leave then?"
"Because I was infatuated with the dream of making money I suppose and having a man to live with. It didn't come easy with me, being... well I'm not exactly a gym rat with a chiseled bod!"
It was one of the few moments of comic relief, Jean-Claude enjoying the humor, Antonio smiling, which showed him it was okay to laugh.
He didn't have to coax Antonio on, picking up right away, "But one of the downsides to our relationship was the agreement I signed upon us forming our personal partnership. He could do what he wanted, see men and there was nothing I could do about it. Sure, I lived comfortably, but I got tired of being his slut at his beck and call, these other men in his life coming and going. I had had enough Jean-Claude... I mean Mr. Lomberiou."
"Jean-Claude is fine. So, what would I be able to employ you as, with a degree in fine art?"
"I was hoping something more than the interview I have this afternoon at the art shop, fitting fake prints into wooden frames or framing up teen posters of Rhianna or Lady Gaga!"
Being Antonio seemed to come across relaxed, gave Jean-Claude a good feeling. However, he still was at whit's end trying to come up with a position which would match up with Antonio's credentials.
A knock at the door brought Sebastien in, saying, "Sorry but I don't have any change."
It didn't really matter to Jean-Claude, though next time he might make an issue out of it. "And what have you spent my hard-earned money on?"
Sebastien clued him in, "I thought instead of running out for a high priced styrofoam cup of coffee, I would stop at the coffee shop down on Cookman and snatch up a few bags of beans. We can grind them ourselves, save some bucks and make our own, which would probably taste a million times better. Also, the coffee shop has so much better quality goods."
Convinced, Jean-Claude figured he would lighten the tongue-lashing and go with Sebastien's reasoning. "How soon before I'm going to be tasting this fantastic cup of coffee?"
"I'm on it right away."
He was amazed at how Sebastien must've cased the place, opening the cupboard in his office and finding the coffee machine. "We don't have a grinder though."
"I have one here," Sebastien said, removing a rectangular box from the shopping bag.
"I can't believe you got that, the coffee and whatever else for under fifty bucks?" he said, looking over Sebastien's shoulder, down into the shopping bag on the floor.
"Owch! Paper cut!" Sebastien shouted out, sticking his index finger in his mouth.
"Are you okay?" Antonio asks, jumping up out of his seat. Then seeing what caused it, says, "Here, let me bust into that for you!"
He might have been cub material, but Jean-Claude sensed there was more to Antonio than an interview could drum up. Too, he had forgotten all about the man behind Antonio who had caused his misery. Also, Antonio jumping right in and helping out, this turned out to be less of an interview and more of a coffee klatche!
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"You are so fuckin' tasty!" Phil said as he lay naked between Gazi's legs, licking his hairy legs and working his way up to the three big treats.
"I'll say," Taylor Ridgestone adds as he goes back to licking out Gazi's pit.
"I got better idea. Why doin'chu two fight over my balls?"
Phil and Taylor exchanged looks, frozen in place a moment, then dived right in.
"I've got him covered on the right!" Phil exclaimed.
"You can have'm both! I want his cock!" But Taylor wasn't so sure when he got there. He gulped, upon seeing how big it had gotten.
Too, Phil loved taking a guy's balls in his mouth and juggling them over his tongue, but two were too humongous to toy with. So, in went one with kept him from saying anything, but murmuring tones of tastiness.
"You can suck down half now and when your throat is stretched take the rest?" Gazi gave Taylor a reason to start bathing it.
"Yeah, right," Taylor replied, looking down upon it. For sure he wasn't ready to make his throat the same wideness as the Lincoln Tunnel!
"Excuse me, Mr. Ridgestone?"
"Yeah, Akbar?"
"Your agent... he needs you right now at the phone. He says it is very, very important."
'There is a God!' Taylor thought, having to forgo the throat stretching.
Same time it made Phil a little nervous.
But Gazi seemed to have the answer, staring at the messenger boy. "I need a replacement or you don't go," he said to Taylor, as he stepped into his briefs.
Gazi was giving the orders and so far his dominant attitude was mighty persuasive. Too, the impression he got from Mr. Ballintine was to do anything in his power to keep Gazi satisfied, till a contract could be drawn up and signed off. So, being it in his power, "Akbar, strip down and get into bed!"
The nineteen year old mideastern dude didn't know what to say, until thinking out his duties when hired, "I'm a messenger, not an actor in your kinky little movies!"
He was sending a message, one Gazi was likening to hear. He saw how eager Phil and Taylor were to jump in the sack and service him, but where this Akbar was giving Taylor grief, he began to think up a new scenario. "Akbar, you strip down and come lay beside me. It don't matter if you gay or straight. Phil will service both of us. You come and lay with me now?"
Taylor took off, leaving Akbar to make up his own mind. Chancing on, if Mr. Ballintine got wind of him refusing to bed with Gazi, which in turn might make Gazi unhappy, in turn making Gazi not sign a contract, it could turn out where Akbar realizes it could turn out where he would be on the unemployment line. The gay issue, he 'was', but he wasn't into sleeping with every man on the block. Weighing everything, he figured he could have a 'nicer' day at work today and being his own man, could do or not do what he wanted.
Even though Phil turned out to be quite a ball sucker, tantalizing each ball sac, the sight of nineteen year old Akbar disrobing in front of him, began making his cock pulse something fierce. Phil sensed it, sticky goo erupting and keeping things neat and tidy, he popped out the ball sac and cleaned things up.
"You are liking what you are seeing, aren't you?" Akbar tells Gazi.
"Woof!" Gazi says, the tip of his tongue in the corner of his mouth.
Being around the studio long enough, Akbar knew all the cliches, saying, "You want me, Gazi. You cannot deny?"
Gazi didn't realize he had wet his lips with his tongue, a complete stare at the teen's hairy front as he unveiled his bod. "I want to taste you!"
Everything was good, however Phil was sorry he wasn't picking up all this on cam. No script could be as good as the instantaneous dialogue between the two. He gave up on Gazi's balls, hopped out of bed, unmissed and grabbed the cam. With his own nakedness bobbing around, he began recording the different angles of the 'porn story' unfolding as it happened. Also driving Phil on was, in his own opinion, something equivalent to the Academy Awards!
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Copyright 2009 T. Chase McPhee
`'December Lullaby - NOVEMBER knockout ' 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.....