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.
Various states and countries have various rules regarding reading or viewing adult material'. It is up to the reader to research this subject, abiding by their own laws. The pages of this story contain adult material', intended for an `adult audience'. Bypass this warning at your own risk.
% Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection.
Hey dudes, if you have enjoyed reading NiFTy stories as much as I have, over the years, consider adding some support for `internet $pace'. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html
^o^ Concluding remarks ~ reading this story could make you stiff or gooey, so I would suggest not reading it at work... just sayin'! :)
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FiRE iSLAND BiKiNiS ~ `beLLyhOLe ALeRt!' 02 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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From Jay's observations, at Warrior One, he drew his own conclusions, regarding Tim, Sean Hardy acting like a boss, with only a hello. Sean was nice to him, but not like when Greg Smith set crutches inside the door, swinging feet to land on the floor.
Willing to share, when he caught Tim alone, Jay says, "I think you and Nash look cute together."
Tim liked Nash, but wasn't into stealing him away from Jay, "He's a nice guy."
Knowing Tim was acting standoffish, and why, Jay changes his strategy, "We're good together, aren't we, the three of us?"
From Tim's thinking, he read into Jay's thoughts, but still confused, "Who do you mean?"
"You, Nash and me!" Jay smiles, hoping Tim would go for it.
"Sure. I think we're good friends."
More than that, Jay toys with the idea, "I think it would be cool if we hung together."
Satisfied with that and not more entanglement, Tim replies, "I like hanging with you and Nash."
Leaving it at that for now, Jay says, "I better get busy, before I get yelled at!"
"Impossible," Tim replies.
"Why?" Jay does a wheelie, almost.
"It makes a big difference on how a person is treated, when they happen to own the place?"
It's not which Jay didn't think the same thing, first couple of days, but when he found out the trainers treated no one different, other than matching up what worked for their particular disability, "Well maybe that could be true, which, could prove valuable, Tim. So, if anyone decides to give you grief, you come to me and I'll straighten them out real quick!"
Jay was being real cute. Tim wondered if a little of `Joseph' had rubbed off on him, the way he acted right now, like Jay not being afraid of anyone, nor anything.
However, he liked his job at Warrior One, taking up the slack as a result of Jake's promotion, "Just the same, I don't want to be accused of being a slacker!"
Turning around, Jay headed off to the gym.
"And Jay?" Tim grabs his attention once more.
"What?"
"Just have someone give me a hollar when you're ready to go!"
He could easily feel sorry for himself, but Jay kissed that feeling goodbye months ago. Partially, it was the opening of Warrior One, seeing himself not alone in the handicapped pool. To his knowledge everyone who signed up for Warrior One showed advancement, which came large and small with volumes of improvement.
Rolling into the gym, his presence would have shown Tim how wrong he was, about money talking or walking the walk, regarding a person in the upper echelon.
"Where have you been?" his trainer comes over, waving arms, as if to mimic the point, "we have so much to do today!"
"You?"
"I'm Peter. I was told your trainer had to leave and they are substituting me."
All Jay could do is smile, brightly as if in a swarm of northern lights. He had to remark, Peter walking quickly around him, taking up the reins of his wheelchair, steering him into the gym, "If I get a speeding ticket, you're paying for it!"
Perhaps Peter thought he was cute, likewise, Jay looking up and seeing his lips curl up. He also caught a glimpse of Peter's left hand. There was no wedding band!
"Okay, suppose I were to dump you out of your chair, how do you think you would land?"
"You're kidding?" Jay looks up.
"No, I'm not kidding."
Apparently, he wasn't kidding, Jay thinking seriously about it, "The only things I have to land on are my hands!"
"Ready?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"Not really," Peter replies, lifting up slightly on the handling bars.
"Hold it! I'm not ready!" Jay exclaims, grabbing the handrails with intensity.
"There, that's what I wanted to find out!"
Looking upside down at Peter, Jay taps out an unknown rhythm on the metal of the chair, "Find out what?"
"Attitude, reflexes, to name a couple of things."
"Um, I got news for you," Jay informs, "I wasn't going anywhere with this chest strap on?"
"What chest strap?"
Now, this was a reflexive move Jay didn't mind at all, Peter doubling over, eyes almost glued to the strap running under his pecs.
Quick as he hinged over, he stands up, clinging to both pecs, "Like, oh my god, I can't believe you did that!"
Like, Jay didn't care he guesstimated where Peter's nips were, under the Warrior One tank top and zeroed in on the little morsels!
He forms an excuse, "How else was to tell you, your bending over me was like, cutting off the circulation from my windpipe?"
"Well, I'm sorry about that," he was still rubbing both pecs, Peter still rambling on, "but I've got such... never mind," he drops both hands, "next time just grunt or something."
Jay grunts like a pig.
"Knock it off," Peter replies.
"Did I make you hard?" Jay was tickled to know, expecting to hear, `I'm not gay!'
"I'm supposed to be training you, not exchanging anatomy tips!"
Jay held on now, suddenly pushed forward, but something grabbed his attention, dead ahead, "Oh cool! Is that for me?"
The 29-year old trainer, with credits towards a physical therapy degree, halts right at the mountain of foam rubber and not wasting any time, "It mo-certainly is!"
While Jay sat there, Peter opted to come around the chair, instead of bending over, after having failed the first time, asks, "Now, how do we get this chest strap off?"
He lied, Jay saying, "I dunno. I never did it myself?"
Peter fell for it, but first remembers the privacy clause everyone had to read, "Okay, but is it all right if I try to help you out of it?"
"Sure. Why not?" Jay asks.
As he goes for the strap, seeing it doubled through a locking mechanism, Peter says, "It's protocol. We all have to ask before touching."
"Touch me all you want!" Jay cheerfully relays.
Stopping a moment, Peter asks, "Listen, I know you're gay, but..."
"Who told you?" Jay gets serious.
"I saw you kiss Jake when you came in," Peter says.
Giving him a tough, but fun time of it, "How do you know we're not kissin' cousins?"
"Because Sean filled me in," Peter replies, going back to work on the strap, which opened right up, making Jay fall forward.
Right in the middle of condemning Sean, Jay says, "Oh cool!"
With Peter's hand pressing against Jay's chest, to keep him from tumbling over and out of the chair, "That's why we're supposed to ask before touching."
"Oh no," Jay says in a worrisome manner.
"What?"
"You didn't feel that?"
"Felt what?" Now, thinking about it, not Jay's safety, Peter says, "Oh, now I do," feeling Jay let go of his torso, "but I'm sure you didn't mean it."
"I didn't ask."
"That's okay. I'm not going to sue you for sexual harassment."
Jay asks, feeling frivolous, "Didn't feel sexy enough?"
"Want to concentrate on the therapy, please?"
Using it as an excuse, Jay tells him, "You know I'm gay, but how else am I going to find out if you are?"
"Ask," Peter says, giving Jay an alternative, "or wait to see if I kiss my boyfriend?"
Disappointed, Jay laments, "Oh, you have a boyfriend?"
Past who's gay, or not, Peter says, "Well, I don't know if that's the right term. I met a guy last night at the club and I'd like to see him again, but he left before we could exchange numbers. I'm hoping to catch him again tonight."
"That's sad," Jay says, then brightens up, "Hey, I was at HOODWINK'd last night with my friends. I didn't see you there."
"You didn't know me then."
"Oh. That's right," Jay feels like a total moron.
"Well, are you ready to jump in the pool?"
It wasn't a pool with water, but filled with giant particles of bulky foam rubber, Jay saying, "Sure, but I can't jump."
"Okay, then try this... I'll help keep your legs straight and I want you to push as hard as you can, launching yourself out of the chair. Um, I strongly suggest keeping your mouth closed!"
There were others around, which probably was why they were all laughing, when Jay did indeed `launch', but instead of winding up in the giant pool of foam, fell right on top of Peter, bowling him over into the mass of foam!
"Oh shoot!" Peter remarks.
Jay observes the very reason he didn't `launch', "Um, I think we need to make sure the brake is on?"
At least he didn't mind it, his forehead touching the `U' of Peter's tank, nose nestled in all that wonderful fuzz!
To observe safety, Peter didn't want to just roll on his side and dump Jay on the floor. In order to accomplish anything, he did roll, but held one of Jay's shoulders and the back of his head.
For anyone else, it looked suggestive, borderline on X-rated, reason why they heard comments from his buddies like, `wanna get a room, Jay?'
Jay, paying attention, because he didn't want more problems, still kept his humor about it, softly taking hint from the masses, asking, "Hey, do you wanna get a room, Peter?"
"I'm not going to answer that, on the grounds it might incriminate you," Peter replies, setting Jay on his back, standing.
"Can't put a guy down for trying!"
All Peter could do at this point is roll his eyes and suck his teeth, saying, "What am I going to do with you?"
Angelic reply, "Um, I could think up a few things?"
Back to the beginning, Jay with his butt back in the chair. Braking this time, he `launched', which made him forget about gay sex, because... it was fun!
Once in the foam patch, size of a small schoolyard playground, Jay was instructed to crawl around, which in middle, hidden from view, Peter hears, "Ick!"
"What?" Peter wasn't too disturbed.
"This stuff tastes yucky!"
"Didn't I instruct you to keep your mouth closed?" Peter looks all around, seeing only Jay's two legs in the pile.
Happening along, Evan puts two fingers to his lips, for Peter to shush and takes a leap into the foam pool, yelling, "Cowabunga dude!"
Jay exclaims, "Evan, is that..." is cut off feeling the whole pit rock, "you?"
"Hey," he says, arm having fallen across a foam piece, which had been sitting on Jay's butt.
Knowing he had been tagged, just not feeling it, "My head's in a cave," several pieces of foam congregating over Jay's head, "work your way over here and we can neck!"
But it wasn't meant to be, Randy coming over, "I turn my back for minute and my boyfriend is hittin' on another man!"
They had met earlier, Randy and Peter, but Peter didn't know the score, who else at Warrior One was gay, "Oh, you two are together?"
"Uh, yeah," Randy admits, but then backs down, saying so only Peter can hear, "trainers and clients aren't supposed to mix and Jared is trying to set a standard, if you know what I mean, so keep it to yourself?"
Sort of, Peter thought, "Sure. I can keep a secret." He also caught the name, `Jared', which is the same name as the dude he met last night and making conversation, perhaps hoping to learn something, "Jared, he's the owner?"
Knowing the change up in the split ownership of Warrior One, Randy probes, "I guess you were hired by Jesse?"
"Now I'm not sure. I thought that little guy," Peter holds a flat hand to about pec height, "Sean, he's not a part owner?"
Randy had to laugh, "Sorry, but I never heard anyone put it quite that way, but no, Sean may act like a big boss, but he's just the manager of the gym." Though, Randy was quite taken by Peter's height, probably a little over six feet and a guy who kept himself in shape.
Then they hear from the pile, intentional sounds of kissing.
Grabbing Jay by the ankles, Peter pulls Jay out, "Okay, mister, you've spent enough time in there!"
Really funny thing, pulling Jay out, it turned his tee shirt inside out, over his head and right off his bod, of which he remarks, "Well, if you wanted my shirt off, Peter, you could've asked. I'm sure your boyfriend wouldn't have minded!"
Knowing Randy is gay, Peter says, "So much for secrets!"
Able to keep things confidential, Randy tells him, "If you're not out, it's not a problem?"
"I wasn't till I came here, but I see that, two guys walking down the street, holding hands, is no big deal."
Having let go of Jay, he took to crawling back into the pile.
"I see you've made progress already with Jay," Randy comments.
"How's that?" Peter asks. New to the job and client, he looked for anything which could help.
Backing up a few weeks, in telling about Jay, it also lent to sharing how Evan and he came together. It also shed some light on this `Jared', which he finds out is Jay's brother and is not just owner of a few establishments on the island. It comes out, Jared being gay, which makes Peter think he's getting closer to the identity of his mystery man, though leaving a margin for error, keeps his opinions to himself.
"Sounds like a busy guy," Peter looks for more details. "I guess he doesn't have much time for enjoyment?"
"As I understand it, prior to this summer, `no', but he's let up on the reins a bit and have allowed people to help him, like Sean is doing."
Mulling over what Randy has said, Peter asks, "Does Jared by chance ever go to the clubs?"
Placing a hand on Peter's shoulder, Randy says, "What gay man doesn't?"
"Hey, Rand, what do you think you're doing?" Evan yells out of the pit, seeing the attached hand. Same time he's tapping Jay, to show he's pranking his lover!
"Mind your own business," Randy calls back, "Am I asking what you and Jay are doing?"
"Um, I think Jay's getting worn out?" Evan cordially says.
Truth in the matter, again he's yanked out by his heels, Peter interrogating him, "Tired all ready? We've just gotten started."
Helping Evan out, Randy and Evan go their separate way.
Not a how are you doing?' or are you feeling ok?', Peter asks Jay, "What did you have for breakfast?"
When Jay went back into the pit, he didn't have a shirt on, "Um, before I answer that, can you go find my shirt?"
Reaching in, he comes out with Jay's shirt, tossing it to him.
"Hey, aren't you going to help me put it on?"
"What do I look like, your mother?"
"She's dead," Jay says.
"Oh. I'm sorry," Peter replies, being more kinder, pulling the shirt out of Jay's hand, "let me fix it for you."
"I almost had it," Jay says. He didn't, but it fun to tease Peter!
"It didn't look like you had it?"
"Are you callin' me a liar?"
Smiling, Peter says, "Yeah, I am, matter of fact! So, what did you have for breakfast?"
"Poptarts."
"Just Poptarts?"
"Juice."
"Well, that's gotta change."
"No way," Jay whines, "Poptarts are like a stable for me!"
Peter smiled at the grammatical error, but didn't want to leave his train of thought, "And that's why, a 1/2 hour later you're ready to quit. From now on you're having bacon and eggs. You can keep the juice in your regiment, but make sure it's fruit."
Not wanting to give up tradition, Jay moans, "Orange is a fruit."
"What did you bring for lunch?"
"Bring? We don't `bring', we eat out!"
While Jay covered up his barechest, they talked food, after which his `dominant' trainer made him crawl back to the mat near the ropes hanging from bars. He kind of had a feeling what they were up to next.
"Here, eat this," Peter gives him a protein bar.
"How come I can't have Poptarts for breakfast?"
"I'm not forcing you to have or not have anything, but every morning, no matter how you feel, I'm going to be putting you through all the stations everyone else is going through. If you're tired, that's your tough luck!"
Even though Jay didn't mean it, he says, "I thought you were a nice guy."
"I am a nice guy, that's why I care enough to tell you what and what not to eat. If you want to do good for yourself, you will listen."
"Got a problem with my bro here?" Jared comes up from behind Peter.
Turning around, Peter forgot about his and Jay's problem, "It `is' you!"
"Oh yeah," Jared recollects, "didn't we meet last night at..."
"Right. That was me. I was hoping to exchange numbers. I went to take a leak and when I came back you had gone."
"Doesn't pay to take a leak these days, does it?" Jared made it known, he had an interest too!
Impatient, or just wanting to get back at Peter for taking away his Poptarts, Jay interrupts, "Um, you going to show me the ropes, Peter, or are you Jare going to play 50 questions?"
"Excuse me. Your brother is being a real noodge today!"
"What else is new?" Jared replies.
He did have other business, catching up with Jesse, or Sean Hardy, whomever he ran into first, but figured he could give the new trainer a piece of his time, hang out with Jay and rekindle the fire which started last night.
Standing there, arms folded, his mind suddenly slipped, which meant Jared was keyed into the utmost present, Peter helping Jay out of his chair, a different way, "What the hay?" Still eyes beaming on the long distance looking, he came closer. Smiling, he wished Peter's hand was on his own chest and lackadaisically, daydreamed, the other hand on his nuts...
"Hey, Jared, what's up?" Sean had to break him out of his man-tasy!
"Y'know Sean," Jared comes back at him with animosity, but quickly chills, "sometimes you come along at the worst times?"
Of course, Sean knew Jay was paired up with Peter Brekker. He arranged it himself, but from Jared's perspective, he knew eyes weren't zeroed in on his brother, "Hot looking guy, huh?"
Shoveling it off himself, shoving it onto Sean, he says, "Really, Sean... my own brother and me? Get real?"
Yet, Jared was branding himself a liar of sorts, having given his brother first taste at how it feels to fuck a guy.
"No, not Jay, I meant the new trainer I hired. Dreamy, isn't he?" Sean's infectious smile fills his face, one in which the other person could not find fault, causing them to return the lip-curl.
Theme entering Jared's mind, though he wasn't serious, "Is that your prerequisite for hiring, Sean?"
Sean got to know a guy very quickly, which was to say, according to how Jared perceived hiring practices, it could be the first motive in wanting to review an application thoroughly, "I picked up all my hiring tips from you!"
"Oh. Well... I'm glad," Jared pats Sean on the shoulder, "you're working on your human resources skills."
He was, but wasn't into Peter as much as it looked like the big boss was, moving eyes so no one could tell he wasn't paying attention to Jay and his trainer, to one side, and out of the corner of his eye, Sean catches a glimpse of Greg. Off his crutches, it very much looks like his trainer, Hiro, pinch-hitting for him while he assumes the responsibilities of gym manager, a self-appointed position, Sean watches Greg being lifted under the arms... too much to bear, to keep a distance, Sean says, "Nice to see Jay is getting a lot out of his trainer. Excuse me a sec," he walks away.
Cracking half a smile, better known as a smirk, Jared can see the writing on the wall, rather Hiro's hands on the client, sensing a little friendly, jealous rivalry. Getting the same idea, Jared focuses on his brother, "Hmm, I wonder if Jay needs a hand?!"
Jay need a hand? More like Peter, Jared walking over and just the opposite, approaches the trainer, "If you're having a problem with my brother, maybe I should stand by, in case you need help?"
By the time Jared guided his attention over to his brother, Jay was with his back to the mat, hands clasped around a rope.
Peter, squatting down, was coaching Jay's hands up the rope.
Figuring his brother in good hands, Jared squats down, his mind with the idea it might be a better angle to get a look at what he could not get a glimpse of last night, in the dark night club. Looking at his brother, coupled with Peter's coaching, he interjects, "Sorry I ran out on you at the club last night. I wondered if..."
Peter didn't turn his head, nor thoughts away from Jay, purposely ignoring him, but not without reservations, "Excuse me a minute, but we're having a crucial moment here."
Watching Jay's shoulders leave the mat, he understood. In a way Jared was embarrassed, encroaching on his own brother's therapy session, trying to stir up personal conversation, when it was his trainer's time with Jay, not meant for personal interruptions, "Sorry. My fault," he stands. Instead of addressing Peter, he says, "I'll catch you later, bro."
Walking away, like a sad puppy, Jared looks back, now thinking how it was bad timing, to mix personal feelings with one of `his' employees, trying to coax a client. For himself, shimmying up a rope would be no problem. A guy in Jay's predicament, half-paralyzed, wanting to do better for himself, he really came down on himself.
"Why the sad face?" Oz asks.
Making himself look worse than it was, Jared returns, "I'm such a jerk."
"I know," Oz smiles. "My client left early. I'm headed to the lockerroom. Need some cheering up?"
Briefly dating, the man who tore Oz away from Jared was a thing of the past.
"I could use some cheering up right now."
However, it wasn't going to happen on Warrior One turf. Entering the hallway to the lockers, they are beset upon workmen, noisily moving lockers from the room.
"What's up with this?" Jared asks.
Not being able to interrupt Greg's training session, Sean had been called to the hallway.
"Oh, Jared," Sean, a muscle-dwarf to many, 5'9, steps forward, tagging the boss' shoulder, "Jesse did mention to you, my plan to make more space for lockers?"
Knowing Jesse more interested in surfboarding, Jared, with intuition, knew Jesse's neglect of the business, "Do me a favor Sean?"
"Of course. Anything," Sean replies.
A silence prevailing, both knew what was on each other's mind!
"Well, within limits," Sean meant!
Taking Sean under an arm, in his confidence, Jared states, "From now on, whatever business you have with Warrior One, consult with me before moving ahead on a project?"
"I thought checking with Jesse was the way to go, although," Sean had his reservations about that direction.
"I think we're both on the same page," Jared still affectionately hung onto Sean, "about Jesse, that he's a little lax in business affairs?"
He didn't want to accuse, having respect for both bosses, but Jared sharing feelings he had himself, not wanting to put Jesse down, Sean turns to resolve, "Of course I wouldn't have a problem coming to you about anything."
"Great. Now, why don't you explain what you're trying to achieve here?"
Instead of hitting the showers, Oz's intention, it was near impossible to do, lockers shoved here and there, blocking the entrance to the `wet room'. However, he didn't mind at all parking his gym bag in the hallway, stripping off his tank top, even in front of the two workmen.
He could have put his clean shirt right on over his sweaty bod, Oz taking time to pull out his towel and dry-cleaning the sweat off, much like he was drying off beads of water, right out of the shower.
"Careful there, Miguel," the owner, John Pinto, calls out to his workers. "Watch the people."
With the loose-fitted flannel shirt John had on, sleeveless and unbuttoned, Jared wasn't watching the workers, but makes a comment, "I would think, with all the muscle you're packin', you could push those lockers around all by yourself!"
"Jarrod warned me about you," John replies. "You're Jared, right?"
The 40-year old's hand was already there in front of Jared, how could he refuse, "You know Jarrod, do you?" He really wanted to say he admired the muscle!
"When he hears of something, he sends it my way and vice versa."
Dropping hands, Jared banks on it, "Tight grip you have there. I don't suppose you would want to quit the construction business, for a job in physical training?"
Smiling, John says, "Who do I get to train?" he laughs, but eyes were scanning Jared from head to toe.
Knowing what that wisecrack was about, Jared sways from it, "So, are these your sons?"
"Nah. There are no sons," John replies. Seeing no `interest' from Jared, he follows the lead, going back to supervising his workers.
"But your workers shirts?" Jared points to one, the tanned youth, wearing a Pinto & Sons shirt.
"Yeah, I know. There never were any sons, but it just looked good on the truck. Makes people think I'm a family man!"
Not that he meant to say it, it just came out, Jared inquiring, "So, there's no Mrs. Pinto?"
Unfortunately for Jared, John had gotten the heads up from Jarrod, which caught him completely by surprise, "No. Why? You interested in filling the position?"
Thinking he had it in the bag, Jared comes back with, "I wouldn't know the answer to that question until after the first date?"
"Wow, it's amazing how we got on the same page right away!" John smiles a toothy grin.
"Thanks to Jarrod?"
Confessing, John says, "Yeah, okay. He might have mentioned something. So, what time, where and when is this date taking place, that is if you're okay with an old fart like me?"
Jared replies, "Me? I have nothing against senior citizens!"
Since John wasn't paying attention, Sean stepped in, but he had other things to attend to, like the surfer Tim found in the surfboard closet this morning, which he intended on bringing the matter up to Jared, because Jesse was out on the water with his students.
Not afraid to speak his mind, as much as Sean minds coaching the hot lads in their work, butts in, "Hey, you mind stepping over here and taking care of business?"
It could have embarrassed John, but as bold as Joseph could be, "I beg your pardon?"
Tagging John's arm, Jared notices it muscled as a rock, "Um, you'll have to forgive Sean..."
"No, no, I love the attitude! No problem whatsoever," John replies. Then, thinking he's opened up to some of his kinky desires too much, falsifies his thoughts, "We should have more leaders like him and then the world wouldn't be so messed up, huh?"
"I suppose," Jared says, detecting something amiss, only out of knowing Joseph and stories his bud has told him, which made Jared aware of attitudes in general.
Of course, Jared would not leave the locker room area without finding out the boys names.
"These two I've employed during the summer, Doug and Miguel."
Doug yells out, "We'd shake your hand, but our hands are kind of busy!"
True, Doug and Miguel were hauling out another set of 3 lockers. Both had shirts up, pinned against the back of their necks.
"Oh, by the way, you should have your air conditioning checked," John suggests.
Jared was rather enjoying the warm temperature, but was courteous, "I'll do that, thanks."
Then, the next set of lockers comes out, scraping the floor, the boss going to the rescue, "Hold on there, JZ, I'll help you."
Halfway through the door, JZ announces, "It's stuck."
"I'll say," John looks through the door opening, about a foot and a half wide.
"How's it on your end?" JZ asks, sliding between the door and locker. In the process, the twenty-three year old cub hears a tear and a rip, "Uh-oh!"
Joking, John says, as he and Jared look upon JZ, tee shirt torn right across the middle, having got stuck on a door or handle, "I think you should take a gym membership out with Jared here," he points his thumb.
Now, Jared knew Jay's affectionate response to any guy wearing a fur coat on the front of his bod, which would fit Jay's expectations to the max, "Sure. I'll set you up to train with my brother!" he laughs.
Smiling, but not knowing why, JZ says in all seriousness, "How much is it going to cost me?"
Fortunately, Jared didn't have to provide any answers, John asking Doug and Miguel to see if they could budge the lockers still lodged in the doorway.
"I see the problem," Miguel says, having slid, without incident, back through the door.
Peering through, at Miguel pointing to the floor, John blames, "JZ, you idiot, you put the foot of the locker right through the floor!"
Meanwhile, one of Miguel's work buddies calls out, for him to come find a shirt in his size, Sean handing out Warrior One tank tops as freebies!
"How do you know the hole wasn't already there," JZ states his claim. Wanting to tear himself away, with hope, as last man being handed a tee shirt, it would mean him and Sean could be alone at the `shirt shack'!
Regardless, John turns to Jared, "Tell ya what, we'll put in a new floor, free."
Smiling, Jared asks, "Even if the hole was already there?"
"Do you know for a fact the hole was there?"
"No," Jared replies, shaking his head.
Facing Jared, John smiles, saying, "I appreciate your honesty. I'm sure you know, being a business man yourself, there are those who are always looking for `something for nothing'?"
Small grin on Jared's lips, he submits to his own feelings, after perusing the empty corridor, "Speaking of hand outs, how about you and I go find you a Warrior One tee shirt to fit... that is if we have one for such a muscular man?"
Being a `nice' boss, John tells his returning workers, "Make sure this room is empty," of lockers, "before I come back!"
Jared, tagging the top of JZ's `handout', mentions, "Take your time with that!"
Entering the closet, large enough to accommodate three persons, Jared asks, "So, what size are you?"
"Drop your pants and I'll show you!"
Jared ignores the comment, "I meant shirt size?!"
"Oh."
Putting back on the shelf the XL tank he had pulled out, Jared turns around, his hand going for John's crotch, "Although it's always nice to know what I'm up against?"
Not much room was behind him, for John to fall back against, but feeling Jared's hand on his favorite construction tool, "Oh-h-h," he's caught off guard.
From hand on the outside, Jared unbuckles John's belt, unbuttons top button of his workpants and with his exploring hand, touches hairy flesh, "Looks like I got you right where I want you, huh boss?"
Knowing he had to be at least 10 years older than Jared, the milestone of midlife upon him, 40-years old, John replies, "You sure do, `son'!"
When Jared had unbuttoned the pants, John took the liberty of unfastening the last two of his sleeveless flannel shirt. Arms slightly elevated, holding onto two shelves behind him, the shirt opened wide, which made it not only a sight to behold. At the ripe old age of 40, the salt hadn't set in, but there was plenty of pepper!
"Y'know," Jared's hand, which is not keeping John's cock firm, rubs over the muscled, hairy pecs, "my brother would go crazy over all this?"
"He's not the only one!" John replies, but gets an extra kick, Jared leaning in, lips caressing the right nip.
After the tantalized tasting of both nips, John takes Jared's necktie in hand, hoisting Jared up to his lips.
Back at the lockerroom, first the talk had been about the construction business, JZ, the unofficial assistant boss, saying, "I like the freedom of these tanks. We should get John to make some up for us."
Sean had lingered, instead of going off to attend to the business he always used as an excuse sometimes, "I can see why you wanted a size bigger!"
A few years older than Doug and Miguel, JZ felt okay with assuming the role of foreman, the two co-workers thinking of him officially bestowed with the illustrious title, which often had them pulling more weight than JZ. Like now, standing there, JZ had given the order, for Doug and Miguel to work on getting the 3 attached lockers in the hallway and not halfway through the door.
In doing so, this freed JZ up to chit chat with the Warrior One manager, "So Sean," he weaves his hands in the sides of Sean's tank, barely touching skin, "what are you into?"
Taking the situation by `the wrists', Sean plucks JZ's probing hands from his torso, "My first rule is not to mix business with pleasure."
Cruel measure, on JZ's books, he was always mixing it up, "Y'know, you really know how to hurt a guy, Sean?"
Though, Sean could tell, JZ not really bent out of shape, the sexy smile lingering, "However, I'm not opposed to pleasure, `after' business hours."
"Cool," the 23-year old replies, with immediate followup, "how about later?"
Not which he didn't have a burning desire to get to know JZ, on other turf, Sean says, "I get off at 6, but by the time I make sure everyone else has done their job in cleaning up, could be 7, 7:30 before I get out of this place."
Really feeling the vibes from Sean, the gym manager's hand planing up and down his treasure trail, which made JZ break down Sean's own code of ethics, says, "I'm sure we'll still be around by then. As John informs us, this is more than a 2-day job."
Mutual smile, Sean says, "See you later, then," he leaves by way of the shower exit, locker room door in, safety exit out to the main gym.
Before continuing on course with his construction duties, JZ had to find an empty stall to relieve the built up pressure!
%
Back in the main gym, Sean had found things next to normal. A new `fixture' to the gym scene, he walks over to where Jay is working out with his new trainer, "How's it going Peter?"
Rather than answer for himself, Peter cleverly replies, "Ask your client!"
Not taken aback by being turned off course, "How's it going Jay?"
Right in the middle of reaching a point, having grabbed onto a rope with both hands and lifting his back a fraction of an inch off the mat he was lying on, Jay says, "Wanna give me a hand?"
"No," Sean replies, looking to Peter.
"Good answer," Peter replies, him and Sean laughing over Jay's `misery'.
`Tales from the crypt', or rather his good friend, Joseph, Jay says, "Maybe you should get a job at The Spin Club, Peter. You'd be good at it!"
"Hm, what's he mean?" Peter was honestly baffled, not being a resident of the island for long.
Sean, hearing some applause from an edited version of a climbing wall, replies, "Uh, I'll leave that up to Jay to explain," and he was off.
It was either working at the rope for the 10th time, or resting, while filling Peter in, Jay flops his back down on the mat, "My friend, Joseph, he goes there all the time. He like, lives for a night at The Spin Club."
Seeing Jay probably truly needed some downtime, Peter sits cross-legged next to him, "So, what is this Spin Club all about?"
Over at the climbing wall, Randy had been working with Evan on hoisting his dead weight in the air, hand over hand, when Greg Smith happened by. Unable to cope with both, Sean cordially invites himself, "Need a hand there, Randy?"
Holding onto 2 props, what looked like swimming pool noodles' bolted to the walls, only stiff, instead of floppy, it became an easier hold for the handicapped warrior' to grab onto.
Being directed by Randy to help Greg, Sean had no problem in following the directive, grabbing the teen about the hips and assisting in a lift, "Going up!"
`Up' wasn't too high, Sean being short. Yet, Greg taller, he was able to climb the first hurdle, latching on to one of the noodles, with warning, "Don't you fuckin' dare let go!"
Sean did have a dirty thought, allowing Greg to slowly drop, right onto his rigid icicle, but reversed his thoughts, "Don't worry. I wouldn't want you to break anything else, Greg!"
Others thought it, but Sean didn't let it bother him, knowing he had the hots for Greg, which in turn made it seem like he granted the teen special favors. If anyone could gain access to the records, it would show Greg's parents paying the full tuition for his summer `rehabilitation', plus a small fee for the use of the climbing wall.
"Uh, like that means a lot to me," Greg replied, grabbing up for the next noodle.
A foot or so off the floor, Randy calls it, "Okay, that's enough for today."
Evan complains, "Enough? Like I can almost touch the ground," though in reality, Evan's heel could very well lash out on its own and kick Randy in the balls...
"I know you can," Randy says, "but a little at a time?"
Both were brought down at an equal pace. Evan, Randy carefully lowered him to the floor.
Landing on one foot, the unaffected, broken limb, Sean was more than he had to be, careful, hugging Greg around the waist.
Only so Sean could hear, Greg turns his head to side of the face, "No wonder everyone's talking about us!"
Taking it serious, Sean acts on the defensive, "Like, I give a shit?"
Trying to lighten things up, Greg says, "Like, me neither." What he derived from this, was a feeling of Sean really caring about him, something which he had originally thought was just being friends and nothing more.
For now, Sean was torn away from his optional duty, seeing the door to the outside opening, surfing students entering.
As things turn out, unexpected, a new part of Tim's job is added to his already busy custodial duties, Sean grabbing an arm and in tow, is brought over to the side door, "When it gets around lunch time, I want you to stand by the door. Any of the surfing students coming in, you are to direct them back out and to the side door. Got it?"
Full of `what ifs', Tim asks, "What if they don't want to?"
"Not a problem. You know the Warrior One cards they wear on the chain around their necks?"
"Yeah, I know."
"You memorize their name and then pass it on to me. I'll take care of them!"
It made Tim smile, watching Sean handle those first two, which he took notes. He also noticed, for a short guy, Sean sure did have a lot of moxy, handling guys who towered over him. Being meek-minded, he hoped he could do the same.
Right after Sean left, Tim gulped, presented with his first bout with a surfboy. Toting the board and dripping wet, he says, "You'll have to go back out and around the side of the building. You can't come in here."
The board was under his arm, but the surfer, in an attempt to wanna take a shortcut, digs the end of his board into the mat, much like beach sand underneath, "Listen, I really gotta take a leak. If I run around the building, I could lose it."
"Sorry," Tim says, "I'm only passing along what my manager says."
"Fuck your manager," the dude gets rude, walks right past Tim.
Knowing he would have to answer to Sean, which probably would be nothing more than a wrist slap, Tim uses psychology against his own timidity. Grabbing a bottom fin on the surfboard, he causes the board to pull loose from the surfer's grip, it dropping on the mat, slipping out of his own hand.
"What the fuck?!"
Fortunately there was a mat to land on, a hefty push from his aggressor, sending Tim's butt into landing mode.
"Fuck off!"
Having just exited the mens room, Derek Gardner, physical therapist for one of the other clients sees Tim in distress. Dropping the paper refuse he used to dry hands, he rushes over. In the niche of time, a high school dude readying his foot, perceived as putting Tim's lower anatomy out of commission, Derek takes the surfdude up in a full nelson, dragging him back.
Scrambling to his feet, Tim doesn't wait around, running into the lobby, voice trailing, "I'm outta here!"
By this time, some of the other trainers are rushing to Derek's aid, Oz putting a 911 call in.
By the time the police arrive, both Sean and Jared are on the scene as well.
Soon, Kevin Plank arrives, Ian on his tail, the two out of breath.
"The way your man talked," Kevin meaning Oz, "it sounded like we were on our way to a riot." It's then he recognizes the `kid' they've wrestled to the ground, Kevin seeing the outline of the form, faced down to the floor, "Not again, Eric?"
They all are appalled at what could be construed as `police brutality', Kevin lifting the downed victim up by the hair on his head and talking directly down into his face, "I thought we had your behavior under control?"
There were a few things Eric was feeling now, not to mention Derek's knee to his back, arms held up in contrast, making it look like the two were in the ring. In addition, his cock and balls were plastered to the floor, but it wasn't until he heard Officer Plank's voice, that his balls started to come alive.
Eric wanted to behave, like he had for Kevin, putting on an act, him the prisoner, being literally, whipped into shape' by his parole officer', which at the end of a couple of hours of hot roleplay, including his asshole vigorously massaged, the both lost their hot loads.
Not in private, it wasn't about to happen, other than Eric totally embarrassed, because he had acted like such a mean, bully-type, "Uh, I'm really sorry, sir."
And because Kevin was there, he could guarantee Eric's evil behavior turning into an angelic repose, "You can let him up now," he tells Derek.
"Are you sure about that?" Derek asks, still in a pinning position.
"I'm sure," Kevin tells Derek. Of course, Kevin was also moved by the distraction, switching attention from Eric, to Derek.
"Aren't you going to cuff him?"
He would liked to have answered Derek with the pair of cuffs he wore at belt level, placing them around Eric's wrists, but they weren't in that type of environment, "He'll be fine. Let him up." Then, seeing an `in' for some entertainment, which could possibly make Eric blush in total embarrassment, Kevin changes his mind, "Hold it. Maybe I should cuff him."
The first thing Kevin learned, is Eric could get quite hard, just from the touch of metal cuffs around his wrists. First time Kevin applied them, all it took was a click, to hear Eric moan.
He wasn't looking for signs right now, gazing upon Derek, trying, without getting snagged, looking between all that arm-room of the W.O. tank top.
"I guess you were right," Derek says to Kevin.
"Cuffs or no cuffs?" Kevin replies.
Frankly, Derek could have gone in either direction with his answer, but something else was taking up space in his mind. Not leaving Kevin in the lurch, he says, "Either or?"
His detective side kicking in, Kevin can very well feel out the returned comment. How different could the trainer be, than himself, with so much at stake to cause distraction!
"Okay, lets break it up," Ian took a hold on crowd control.
Conferring with Jared, Ian finds he's not placing any charges, will talk to Tim about doing the same, providing Eric gets some help, perhaps in the form of rehabilitation.
"I can take care of that," Kevin replies.
Even though Kevin had the cuffs put on Eric's wrists, at the exit to the gym, he removed them. Both having an understanding, when they left Warrior One, the dialogue they were used to, kicked in.
"I take full responsibility for my actions, sir."
"You fuckin' better believe it boy and just because Mr. Evans is dropping the charges, it doesn't mean you don't have me to answer to!"
And so it went, Kevin marching Eric out of the gym, along the walkway, destination the island police department. Eric was silent for the most part, occasionally saying `hi' to someone he knew passing by. Kevin, visions danced in his mind, with focus on an idea, just thinking of how he could degrade Eric, with perhaps having the surf-jock on his knees, licking Tim's cock. He smiled at his wickedly good idea!
After Warrior One let out, for the handicapped portion of the facility, a family member or friend would stop by to pick up the clients. For Jay, if Nash didn't show, unsure about Terry's first day on the job at Westside Market, not certain of how the day would pan out, there was always Tim, who knock it off for a few hours to walk Jay home.
As Jay had already found out, the only clothes Tim owned were either on his back, or in his knapsack, of which he gets the brilliant idea, "Let's eat out and then I want to go shopping for some clothes," he purposely did not mention Tim the one who will be in and out of the fitting room.
"Sure. Whatever you want," Tim says.
Testing, 1, 2, 3, Jay asks, "What do you want, Tim?"
"What do you mean, `what do I want?'" he was genuinely lost in the question.
"I think we need to work on getting you a real job, one in which you can earn some money to get back to college, get a degree and add definition to your life," Jay had to admit he was sounding like his brother, moping about after his accident!
"Only one problem," Tim hands back to Jay.
"What's that?"
"I can't go back to college, `cause I never went there in the first place!"
It was an opinion Jay was forming of Tim, no matter how dire a situation, he always remained in good humor, reason right now he had a quaint smile on his face, "What would you be interested in?" Jay wheels himself through the front door, held by one of the other clients' pickups.
"Me?" Tim stutters, "About that, I have no idea."
Strolling along, Jay says, "Well, then maybe thats a good place to start, for us to figure out what you would like to do for the rest of your life."
"Delivering pizza?" Tim replies.
"What, are you going to buy your mansion with tips?"
Shrugging his shoulders, which Jay could not see, in front of Tim, "I don't need any big, high-falutin' mansion to live in."
"No. It would be nice, but if it's not a goal for yourself it's okay, but even something half-nice, like an apartment in a nice block, or a condo or townhouse, I'm sure you would like something nice, right?"
Still not convincing himself he knew what he wants in life, Tim replies, "I really don't know. I'm really glad we've got Nash."
It made Jay smile, Tim including him in his answer, which spawned the idea, "Yeah, we sure are lucky, aren't we?"
For now, future plans involving Tim were put on the back burner, Jay saying, "Should we go in and give the waiters at The Nook a hard time?"
Jay had started off, with a pranking-good idea, saying the food sucked, Tim bringing up the idea the lemonade too warm. Tossing ideas back and forth, if they ever were convincing enough, instead of pranking the staff, it would turn around on themselves, getting kicked out of the now, family-owned luncheonette.
Tim pictures it, the two right outside the doors of The Nook, "I can just see you, faced down in the gutter with the chair overturned and top of you!"
"Oh really?" Jay takes it in stride, "And where would you be, faced down on top of me?"
Getting bold on Jay, Tim says, "I'm not going to hold this door forever!" Strangely, when Jay goes through, Tim rustles the top of Jay's head, like giving him a soft noogie.
Jay just smiles, even though he was wondering what that was about!
At the market, Terry's first day would go down in infamy as one of the worst days of his life. He had to admit he could not handle things, first not being accustomed to working a market and not all that good at being a `manager'.
Jared had left his cell number, for if Terry needed anything. However, apparently either Jared's cell was off or the battery gone dead.
Nash had gotten a kick out it, asking Terry what they should do, when they ran out of milk, Terry putting it back on Nash, "What do you think we should do?"
Nash didn't know. When Arne was manager of the market, he had a book with names of distributors. When he left, the book disappeared. Reason enough, he comes up with, "Like I always say," in the process of pulling his cell out, "when in doubt, call Homer!"
"Homer?" Terry thinks of the most unlikely person to call, but admits to himself anything is better than nothing.
"Yeah," Nash replies, listening to the ringtone, "Homer, he'll know what to do."
Sure enough, Homer did not make a liar out of Nash, saying he would take care of it.
How Homer solved the problem, he had for years, pranking some of the surfers, stealing their ice chests. Sometimes he got lucky, finding a cache of beer! Regardless, he loaded them into a wheelbarrow and stopped here and there along the way, at the pizzeria, bakery, an assortment of stores where he knew the owners and bought 2 or 3 half gallons from each. Arriving at Westside Market and because Homer flaunted the muscles to move a heavy wheelbarrow, had collected enough for the rest of the day, "Take a look here and see if this is enough?"
Terry exclaims, "You're a lifesaver, Homer!"
"Yeah I know. If you want to repay me, I think I can think of a way?"
Picking up an ice chest all by himself, Terry a hefty he-man, he says, "I'll think about it," gives Homer a wink!
"Don't worry," Nash places a hand on Homer's shoulder, "if Terry's not into it, I'll find someone," Nash made it up as he went along, "to help repay you... or something like that!"
"I dunno," Homer replies, helping liquidate the load in the wheelbarrow, "I kind of like the looks of Jay's brother!"
"Of course," Nash responds, able to only pick up 4 cartons and walk to the refrigerated cases, "I could just as easily fall in love with `Matt Bomer' too!"
"Oh my god!" Homer says, "I kept running it through my head who Jared reminded me of and you... you picked it... I mean, him!"
For the rest of the afternoon, Terry kind of caved in, happy that Homer stuck around. He didn't speak of himself, all the glory he could receive from the `owner' of Westside Market, but rather gave Terry ideas to bring up to Jared for improvement, "Yeah, and get rid of all this little shit. It's not healthy anyway."
"What if Jared likes it?" Terry asks.
"His opinion doesn't matter."
Shocked, Terry says, "What on earth do you mean?"
"What I mean is, he's looking for someone to run this place. Part of developing a solid shopping environment is watching your customers and what they are buying. Look," Homer runs a finger along the counter, "when do you think is the last time anyone picked up one of these?" he holds up a dusty bag of candy, blowing the dust off.
"Looks like it's been there a while," Terry replies, brushing the dust off Homer's tee shirt.
"Feels good. Maybe I'll clean the rest of the shelf off!"
All Terry could do is roll his eyes, shake his head.
"In fact, I'm going to get the ball rolling for you."
Terry watches, Homer going over to where he left the wheelbarrow, rolls it over to the `ugly' wire rack, setting it in front of the shelf. With brute force he tips the shelf, everything on it upchucking, mostly into the garden transporter.
"Oh shit, what are you doing?" Terry exclaims, not making an effort to stop him.
"Out with the old and in with the new?"
Still lost in a world he hadn't a clue to what it was all about, Terry asks, "Well, what should we put there?"
"Nothing," Homer leans on the center, the little metal tines caving in, the ends folding to the middle, "what you're going to do is hit Jared up for new racks."
"Will he go for it?" Terry follows Homer and his hoard of candy.
"Maybe, maybe not. Important thing is, you make it look like you know what you're doing..."
"Even if I don't?" Terry pops the question.
Wheeling his load out the front door, Homer says, "You know, I have a feeling I should hang out with you and Nash for a few days."
Rolling out the double doors, Terry replies, "I think I'd like that."
Mind on something else, Homer replies, "I knew you'd come around!"
All Terry could do is laugh, knowing the strings which were attached. Then, his mind returning to question, "Um, like what are you doing with that?"
"Get one of your employees to write up a sign saying, `free', then tape it to the side of the wheelbarrow. People love getting something for nothing!"
Terry responds, "You know, you're pretty smart for a musclehead?"
Putting it back on Terry, Homer says, "You flirtin' with me, boy?"
Well there was a little age difference, the score, Homer 44, Terry 28, about ten years apart, but right now even though the score wasn't evened up, it didn't seem to matter to either one, yet Terry was looking up to Homer, happy to receive guidance, whereas he was deficient in what to do.
"Flirtin'? Uh, no, more I'm just happy to have you around, because in the long run I really need a job to make ends meet!"
Joking, Homer says, "Well then, it looks like I `own' you," he laughs on purpose, making it known he was a kidder.
"Whatever you want to call it," the cowboy was accepting, "if it's not broke, don't fix it!"
"Are we still talking business?" Homer asks, folding arms across his middle and chilling out, while waiting for an answer.
"Uh, do you think we better get inside before all hell breaks loose?"
"That's what I like," Homer says facetiously, tagging Terry on the shoulder, "a man with confidence in himself!"
Before the sign on the door was turned to face the outside world, telling people they were closed for the day, Terry just watched as if Homer owned the joint, moving things about, until he came back over, "I hope you don't mind I changed a few things?"
"Nah. It kept you busy from flirting with me!" Terry smiles.
"Hey, buster," Homer puts on this tough-guy facade, "let's get things straight, it's you who started flirting with me. Me? I don't flirt on the job!"
"I'm appalled," Terry says, standing there in the `chill-out' position!
"That's okay. You'll get used to me. By the way, I introduced myself to the help around here. What's your opinion of Kiernan? He tells me he works three jobs."
Counting on his fingers, Terry replies, "Yeah, busboy at Korbeau's, dancer at HOODWINK'd and then drags himself in here around noontime."
"Well," Homer bends in for confidentiality, "not to mention he's as hot as a fox, you should ask him to choose."
"Choose?"
Now the finger-counter, Homer says, "I don't care how you want to divide it up, Korbeau's and HOOWINK'd together, but I would offer him a raise to go fulltime at the market."
Biting a lip, Terry knew how hot Kiernan could be and felt Homer was getting the raw end of the deal, because when he saw how Kiernan could woo tips out of a man, almost naked on a cube, shaking all of his goods, with money popping out of the low rise speedo, "I don't think he would be interested in full time. Why do you want to get rid of him?"
"I'm not trying to get rid of him, god forbid!" Then, like he was siding with Terry on this, chooses another way around, "What about the other fellow, Tommy?"
"What about him?"
Coming closer, in Terry's face, Homer asks, "Did Tommy ever share with you how he picks up extra college tuition money?"
"I didn't really get to talk with him much... yet."
"Lesson number two, get to know your employees inside and out," Homer passes on the good word.
Smiling, Terry says, "Does that include you?"
"I'm not an employee," Homer sharply says, but not wanting to let a great opportunity pass, "but if it's all the same to you, you can think of me as such?"
"I got a better idea."
"What's that?" Homer questions, wondering the implications of the wheels turning in the store manager's mind.
"What do you do all day? Lay around and think of ways to jerk yourself off?" Terry laughs.
With squinty eyes, Homer says, "I oughta take you over my knee!"
"Careful," Terry confides, "you might start turning me on, daddy!"
There was nothing to follow, Terry laughing so hard, his cowboy hat almost fell off backwards, it became infectious, Homer saying he couldn't top that!
For the last three hours of business, Homer cued Terry in on how to approach both Kiernan and Tommy, about coming on board full time. Kiernan said he could easily give up waitering at Korbeau's, but he loved dancing too much at HOODWINK'd. He also clued them in, he was a little too intimidated, bringing up leaving to Arne, not sure he could swing it financially, which brought everything back home.
"Well, what about giving us almost full time, dropping Korbeau's? We close at 6pm and that will give you plenty of time to strip down, shower, change into a speedo and get your ass on over to the club?"
Kiernan had to laugh, "Wow, you've got my routine down to a `T'. Any chance you know from experience?"
After all the consideration of Terry speaking to the other employees, he chickened out. From afar, Homer knew the case, intervening, which is how he was getting all the info out of Kiernan. "Um no, can't say that I shake my booty for 2 hours nonstop, but even at my age I think I could pocket the bucks as much as you could!" Homer says proudly.
"Something tells me you could!" Terry says.
Homer replies, "Um, we're supposed to be interviewing Kiernan here?"
"Oh yeah," Terry says light-heartedly, "excuse me for allowing my mind to fall in the gutter!"
Okay, so they talked with Kiernan until Homer made up a suggested schedule for the 19-year old, dancing his ass off at night, go home, at a reasonable hour, sleep and then report to work at 10 am.
For Tommy Piani, the 21-year old college frat was all for dropping the internet search for tricks, which sometimes didn't show or reneged on the agreed on rate, after they had sex, for a full time job.
When the second hand on the clock called it a day, Nash took responsibility for locking up.
Last day on the old schedule, Kiernan needed to report to HOODWINK'd early, saying he forgot about dancing at a closed affair, a bachelor party, involving mostly college students.
Of course, Homer wanted to go along...
Tommy, he had one last trick on his calendar, of which Homer wanted to be a wannabe, along for the ride!
Speaking his mind, after the two departed, Nash sweeping up, Terry says, "Y'know you've got a lot of spunk for an old man?"
"I should bend you over my knee for saying something like that!"
"Interesting."
"What is?" Homer says, sitting across from Terry at his desk, in a small cubby of a room.
"Bending guys over your knee. You do that a lot?"
Sitting back, now that they were on non-store business hours, Homer confides, "No. Not necessarily over my knee, but I love taking care of a hot ass bent over a bed!"
Joking, Terry looks down to his crotch, "I think you made me hard!"
Slowly, with distinction, deliberation, Homer states, "Name the time and the place!"
Putting on airs, Terry tosses to Homer the old, broken down, gay cliche, "Oh, what I could do to you!"
"Like I said. Time? Place?" Homer sits there, like he's just woofed down a satisfying Thanksgiving dinner, only patting his crotch instead of a full stomach.
"Well, maybe sometime," it seems Terry is giving the brush off.
"Which means never," Homer is so confident. "What's the next order of business?"
Placing hands on the desk, like he's ready to dig into what's next on the sketch pad he's been composing all day, Terry rises up out of his swivel chair, "You think I'm opposed to messing with muscle-hunks older than me?" he tosses in a flirting way.
Knowing business was not to fall on their plates right now, Homer says, "Why don't you come over here and put me across your knee?"
Terry, thinking Homer expects a mediocre answer, boldly goes where they didn't go before, "I was thinking more of dropping my pants and," there's an audible sound of a zipper going down, "bending over the desk. Damn, I'd like to feel your tongue fucking me hard!"
"Let's get it on!" Homer is all for it.
Then the zipper, which was heard opening up Terry's crotch, seals it up, "And how would it look, if Jared were to walk in, seeing your tongue lodged deep in my ass crack?"
Shrugging shoulders, and with careless attitude, Homer says, "He'd probably join in!"
However, it wasn't Jared, but if the two had gotten it on, Nash would have walked in on them, "I'm done sweeping. What're we having for dinner, Homer, or since you're here and not, there, are we eating out?"
"Out," Homer makes a quick corporate decision.
"Good," Nash replies, "because Jay called me and said he's at The Nook with Tim. Don't wait up for me!"
With Nash on his way out, Terry says, "So, what are you up for, for dinner... Chinese? Italian? Fish'n'chips?"
"More hungry for your cock in my ass!"
Terry hadn't really thought much about getting it on with an older dude, the way guys younger or his own age lusted after his chiseled pecs, abs and lower muscles. As he was finding out, older guys could be just as appealing, like in Homer's case, older, yet keeping himself in tiptop shape!
%
Another day, another 4 pushups, hoping to reach the apex of his first level of achievement, 6, it was a tough, grueling day for Jay at Warrior One.
At their `watering hole', Jay and Tim sat at a table and what they found out, even though Jay was part owner of everything with his brother, whereas service was concerned, "I can't believe we don't have ten hot waiters waiting on us."
Tim responds to Jay's observation, noting a hint of a joke, "I don't think it would be fair. Do you?"
"Nah. Not really," Jay takes a sip of water.
"I think it shows something."
"What?" Jay looks over the top of his glass as he glugs it down, sip by sip.
"If they give us special treatment, just think what happens when someone else they know comes in to eat?"
"Wow, Tim, you're like a genius!" Jay calls it.
With goals still set on partial reason why they came to The Nook, Tim says, "So, did you think up any pranks to do?"
"Not really. I suppose I'm satisfied sitting here, taking in the eyecandy!"
"Like those two?" Tim nods towards the door.
"I guess they didn't see the sign," Jay says, him and Tim watching two shirtless dudes walk in.
As of yet, The Nook wasn't as sophisticated as some eateries, lacking a front door person who would seat people. At the same time, it flawed response to the sign hanging in the window, `no shirt - no service'.
"I got an idea," Jay says, having seen Yashir over at a table, nose to a writing pad, scribbling stuff down.
"What?"
"See the Indian dude over there?"
Looking left, first, Tim switches eyes to the right, "Who are we talking about?"
"Dah, the hot, darker skinned dude with the hairy chest?"
Okay, so Tim keyed in on most of the description, but was stumped when he only saw a small v-neck opening of Yashir's shirt, which he boldly volleys back to Jay, "Dah, like it's tough to notice when it's covered up?"
The two young guys had walked in, saw an empty table across the way and helped themselves to it.
"Well hurry up, before they get too situated. Yashir, he's one of Jare's boyfriends..."
"Really? How many does it have?"
Rather than talk up his brother's love-life-history, Jay says, "Just go over there. Tell him I sent you and..."
Before Jay could finish his instructions to Tim, lo and behold, they watch as Yashir gets up, drops his pen on the journal he was writing in and approaches the table with the two shirtless guys. They can't hear what's being said, but slowly each of the dudes at the table reach behind them, extracting their shirts from being tucked into the back liner of their boardshorts.
"Maybe he can read minds," Tim says, the two still staring.
"I think it's more than that," Jay differs in opinion, Yashir pulling out a chair and sitting with them.
"Damn, you think he meant to pick them up?" Tim asks.
"Could be, or maybe he's doing research for his book."
"Hmm, what's his book about?"
"I dunno," Jay says, as the two try to figure out, through signs, movement of hands, lips and expression to figure out what's happening."
Tim, seeing Yashir reach over to the table he was sitting at, which makes his back face the pair, "They're talking about him."
"Yeah," Jay agrees, "and I kind of have an idea of what it's about!"
Tim agreed, to some extent, watching the pair converse quickly, the raising of eyebrows, evil smiles and other ways a gay guy could tell something was up. At this point, it looked innocent enough, but soon more could be up than an idea!
Instead of pranking the staff, Jay and Tim's lunch entertainment became Yashir's interactions with the surf-dudes.
Halfway through their bagel sandwiches, Jay exclaims, "Holy cow!"
"Did I miss something?" Tim asks, about ready to chomp down on his lettuce-stuffed bagel.
"The dude on Yashir's right," Jay replies.
"What about him?"
His bagel on the plate, Jay says, "You've gotta stop eating and pay attention, man."
"What? What did I miss," Tim takes Jay's advice, dropping his bagel to the plate.
"The dude on Yashir's right. When he put his shirt on, he must not have tucked his shirt in. Stretching, it pulled up from his waist and I got a great look at his hairy stomach. That is, until he pulled it back down, shucks!"
All Tim could do is giggle, replying as he picked up his bagel, "Is that all?"
It's then that hairy chests, hairy stomachs, hairy pubes and the hairy beyond began Jay's topic of discussion, of which Jay further assesses, "Like, you're kind of hot looking, you know?"
"Me?" Tim adds conflicting opinion, "I'm not `real' hairy?"
"I know, but it's just cool how it masses around your pecs and the striped down your stomach. Love how your navel is deep too. Tell me," while Jay got more in a horny mood, "do you like guys with innies or outies?"
"Really?" Tim was totally surprised by stuff he never thought of, like whether his bellyhole was deep or shallow.
"Don't you find a dude's navel sexy? I do."
"It would seem," Tim didn't doubt it.
"Haven't you ever had a guy stick his tongue in your navel or lick around it?"
With not much gay sex under his belt, Tim replies, "Like, you're the guy with all the experience?"
"Oh yeah. I forgot. You're sex life is morally bankrupt!"
If they weren't good friends, Tim knowing how Jay yearned to have a normal response to being horny, he took the accusation is stride, yet, "I nope to change that, but I'm not like going to pick up boys in a cafe!"
"Yikes, I never thought of that. Now it gets interesting!"
Tim's brows dip, "Like how would that go?"
"Eat slow. I want to see how this ends up for Yashir."
Perhaps, but Tim was thinking of more the young surf dudes. Leaving The Nook today, Tim would have more of an education, stuck in his mind about Jay's `bellyhole' education. Self-researching, he wanted to discover the reality of whether he liked innies or outies!
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Copyright 2014 T. Chase McPhee
FiRE iSLAND BiKiNiS, and developing segments of this story, may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.