You know the drill: The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons, of continents or islands, in countries, counties, cities, towns, villages, neighborhoods, streets, cul-de-sacs, nor governmental or non-governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then why are you here? Seriously, if guy-to-guy sex stuff makes you barf or is going to screw up your mind, you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most states and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such.
% Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection.
FoR SaLE By OwNEr: CK's STuD MuFFiN PaRTy 11 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
%
"Hey, hey... wake up sweetheart," Alex says, his hand shaking at Kyle's left shoulder, making his pecs shake like Jello.
"Huh?" Kyle responds with one eye open. Then realizing the reality of the sweet story he was sleeping on, he whimpers, "Ooh-h-h why did you have to wake me Alex!"
"Oh, did I interrupt something important?" Alex, seeing the tented sheet, sums up the situation. "Like a 'nice' dream?"
"You had to be there... er-r-r, you were actually."
Alex giggles as he says, "I better have been there!" He sits on the edge of the bed. "So, who else was there besides me, helping to keep this," he gives Kyle's 'tent' a small stroking, "stiff?"
"Don't you think you're enough for me Alex?" Exchanging glances, Kyle amends, "Nalin... and I can't believe you were encouraging him!"
"Me?" Alex replies, his flat hand across his chest in exclamation.
"Yeah, if it wasn't for you I wouldn't have had Nalin halfway down my throat!"
"Oh? And," Alex draws quotes in the air with both hands, "where was 'I' when all this was taking place?"
Kyle smiles, telling more of his sweet dream, "Right where you're supposed to be?"
"Oh really?" Alex says, wanting more than a visual picture of himself.
Rather than rename every aspect of his dreaming, Kyle instead confronts his lover, "Don't you think you could try Alex? I know it would feel really, really good, more than in my dream?"
"How-w-w about," Alex gets an idea, standing, then throwing a leg over Kyle's thigh, "I improvise?"
Thinking Alex serious, about lining his cock up to his ass, he smiles, but then realizes, "Oh my God!"
"What?" Alex replies as he unearths Kyle's cock from the sheets, holds it firmly in his hand and then bends over.
"This is how my dream got started... you bending over... ready to suck me off Alex!"
"Suck you off? Are you crazy. I was just going to..." he bends over, but instead of any tongue action, blows a cool breeze over Kyle's cock.
With mixed reaction, Kyle renders, "Oh... okay."
With a knock at the door, Alex stops giving his superficial 'blowjob'.
Thinking back to his lovely dream, Kyle says, "That'll be Nalin I bet!"
His feet flat on the floor, Alex walks over to the door, sliding it open a sliver.
Kyle wondered if he was right, or not, piqued his own anticipation.
"Oh hi Wattie. What's up?"
'Wattie?' Kyle said to himself, almost in disappointment.
"Cayman wanted me to make sure you two made an appearance at brunch this morning?"
Alex jokes, "If I can get my horny other half out of bed this morning!"
"Oh?" Wattie inquires, his eyes trying to peer beyond the slight opening Alex has left for them to chat through.
Probably Wattie felt cut short, Alex saying, "We'll be there," closing the door promptly.
"Does this mean you're not going to," his question trailed off, the one in his mind which still entertained thoughts of Alex working his lower half, when a knock comes at the door.
Opening it, Alex addresses the clenched hand, "Yes?"
"Hi. Um, I guess they told you about Nalin and all?"
"No, nobody told us about... what happened to Nalin?" Alex questions the tall African-American, seeming to stoop rather than bang his head on the door frame, in order to fit inside.
His eyes were all up and down Alex as he asks, "You wouldn't happen to be Kyle Dryfiss, would you?"
To prove a point, one in which he knew he was thoroughly being checked out, Alex replies, "No. Sorry to disappoint you, but what is this all about?"
Rather than a quick, to the point explanation, the dude says, "Well you see, I was just waking up, at the dorm, and my roommate informs me my cell is ringing. But you better believe I'm up and out of bed when he picks it up and tells me the name 'Cayman Karlyle' is displayed. Right away I'm as ecstatic as hell, thinking this is my chance!"
"Chance?" Alex questions, still blocking the over six foot dude, maybe two inches taller than himself, from entering.
"Modeling, but for righteous sake, would you believe it? I get a call to come over and give some dude a massage."
Meanwhile, Kyle is listening and unable to turn in the bed to his advantage, to see whom is speaking with his lover, he summons, "Who is it Alex?"
Looking over at the bed, both can see Kyle with hardly anything covering him. While Alex was away from the bed, Kyle kept himself 'maintained'.
"Oh my. It does certainly indeed look like Mr. Dryfiss needs my attention! Mind if I come in?"
It was on the tip of Alex's tongue to refuse.
In fact he started mumbling his disapproval, when Kyle speaks up, "Sure!"
It's not that the dude wasn't appealing to Alex, matter of fact, very good looking! It's that if he refused the dude entry and his lover later finding out how hot the dude was and was dismissed, well Alex knew what it would be like! Instead, he vented, "What happened with Nalin?"
"Righteous!" The dude says, standing before the bed, his massage table in one hand, a carrying case in the other. "You're an angel in disguise!"
Illiciting a fake cough, Alex says, "Um, that'll be my partner you're talking about?"
Then, to cover himself, the dude says, "Oh well... um... uh... then I'll just have to say what a lucky man you are." Then he quickly changed the subject, "Nalin... he had to suddenly go back to the city, about a relative falling sick." Little did they know, on the dude's mind was just how lucky he was, not too many heartfelt feelings about Nalin's predicament.
Alex comments, "Too bad. I hope things work out for him. Um, you got a name?"
"Oh sure," the dude says, setting down the case in his left hand, passing the table from right to left and offering up his right hand, "I'm Palmer." And taking Alex's hand, his big hand adding a firm grip, "I was right down the road, in Syosset, when I got the call. I'm a massage major at New York College and well, I could hardly refuse Mr. Karlyle's request, what with needing a massage specialist on the spur of the moment."
With his hand still in Alex's hand, Alex replies, "Oh I'm sure these hands can be quite powerful!"
Palmer replies, "Oh well, you have a nice grip yourself."
From the bed comes, "I could sure use 'somebodys' grip right now?"
Whatever, Palmer didn't really mean it like Kyle was spelling it out. He profusely apologizes, "Righteous! I swear! I didn't mean it that way. If you thought I did, I'm terribly sorry it came out the way it did!"
Kyle takes the reins, saying, "Of course we didn't take it 'that' way, Palmer. Did we Alex?"
Smirking, Alex readdresses the situation, "You needn't had brought a table. There's one in the next room?"
"Oh no," Palmer says, all nervous like, "I've brought my own thanks!"
The two watch as Palmer, in not time at all, unfolds the table, sets it up and slaps his hand on it, saying, "All ready when you are!"
The three watch as the table collapses, roaring as it falls flat to the floor.
"For righteous sake!" Palmer exclaims, both hands to the sides of his face.
"Good thing I wasn't on it!" Kyle contributes.
Alex asks, "I hope you kept the warranty, Palmer."
"Excuse me one second," the twenty-three year old says, picking up one end of the table, resetting it on two legs. Approaching the other side, "Me and this table... we have an understanding."
Alex says, almost inaudible to Kyle, "I wonder which one has the bigger brain!"
"Be nice," Kyle replies, as Alex stands next to the bed, arms doubled over in front of him as the two watch Palmer trying to do some magic with the table.
"Oops!" He says, when uprighting the other end, the opposite side collapsing.
Feeling sorry for him, Kyle suggests, "Alex, why don't you help him out?"
"For sure," Alex drops his arms to the side, heading for the other room.
Seeing Alex walk in the direction previous stated, Palmer heads for the door, saying, "No... no... I can get it!"
"Are you sure you don't need my help?" Alex offers.
He wore a long, white outfit, something you might see in one of the mid-eastern countries, but sleeveless, Palmer's arms suggesting muscular fitness a part of his lifestyle, holding up both biceps and flexing, "Not with these!"
Returning to the bed, they hear all kinds of nonsense, Palmer yelling, "Um, where did you say that other table was?"
"He's so cute, isn't he?" Kyle poses to Alex.
"Damn adorkable!" Alex responds. "Like, the table is in plain sight?"
But when Alex enters the room, he finds himself in error, saying, "What happened to the table?"
Mellowing out his opinion, Alex smiles, seeing Palmer's expression, like Kyle had said, cute, as he shrugs both shoulders.
"Maybe we can fix my table?" Palmer points his thumb in the direction of the other room.
"Um, maybe it could be fixed," Alex replies, but trusts more his intuition, "but I'm not so sure of how safe it would be, regarding your powerful hands?"
Possibly Palmer takes Alex's reasoning with different meaning, offering, "I can show you how powerful they are, if you wish? I can massage two at once?"
He had to stay still in the bed to hear what was going on in the other room, Kyle picking up on their conversation. With due silence, he figures his lover is lost for words, so provides him a buy out with a shout, "Alex, I'm hun-ngree-e-e!"
"He's hungry," Alex concedes. "Maybe we can put off the massage till later?"
"I can go home and come back I suppose?" Palmer replies.
"Maybe you can help get Kyle ready first," Alex says as the two walk back into the bedroom.
"Hey guys! Look! I'm all better?"
Alex says with worry, hustling over to the side of the bed, "Kyle, you crazy?"
"I'm just standing Alex. It's not like I'm doing jumping jacks yet!"
Right by his side, Alex talks to his partner as if a dog, saying, "Sit!"
"I'm tired of sitting!" Kyle pouts.
Facing each other, the two seemed at an impasse, till Palmer suggests, "I'm strong. If Kyle falls, I can catch him!"
In his mind, Alex was thinking, 'Yeah, like you caught the table?'
But then softened his opinion when Kyle agrees with 'the enemy', "Yeah. Palmer's so awesomely muscled. He can probably catch me with no problem, Alex."
With new energy, Palmer states, "That's right and I can help wash, dress... anything you like I can help with!"
"Please?" Kyle asks, his look like that of a puppy dog wanting special favors.
"Alright, but we're taking it real slow," Alex gives in.
And that they did, walking Kyle over to the jon, Alex and Palmer the buttresses, if Kyle had felt the least bit of dizziness.
When they were inside the jon, Kyle was already prepared for the shower, except his briefs, which before had been propped under his balls, when in bed.
"I will get that!" Palmer exclaims, his hands on Kyle's briefs before Alex could react.
As Palmer lowered Kyle's briefs, it was like he was bowing to a king, Alex thinking, 'I bet you're one helluva cocksucker too!' It made him smile, laugh on the inside at his own joke.
"What's so funny?" Kyle asks, as he looks up from sitting on the toilet lid.
"Nothing. Nothing at all," Alex replies. He then says, "I better get ready to help you."
"No, no," Palmer says, his hand temporarily placed on Alex's chest. "I will help. That's what I am here for!"
And in no time, Palmer had stripped his one-piece garment off over his head.
'OMG!' Kyle was thinking, looking upon his briefs, the bulge as big as a cannon!
"Go for it," Alex sort of mumbled.
"What?" Kyle looked up at his lover.
"Nothing," Alex resigned.
But Alex wasn't too wowwed, Kyle even more so, less enthused, when Palmer shed his briefs, a mere eight inches popping out.
"Okay. I can help you now," Palmer offers, his cock and balls bouncy along as he bends, helps Kyle up, uprights himself, with gentleness moving him to the shower.
"I better give you a hand," Alex says.
Of course it didn't go unnoticed, Palmer's eyes glued to Alex's pubes as he shed his own designer briefs.
It's then Palmer acknowledges, giving himself away, "I really like those briefs Alex. Where'd you get them?"
Almost the whole shower time was taken up with Kyle explaining to Palmer about the handmade briefs, which included the first batch, sold off to Alex's high school atheltic crowd. One thing led to another and before they exited the shower, Palmer knew all about the couple.
%
"So when do we get to hang out again?" Michael asks Phillip.
"Probably early afternoon. By the time Cayman's done with us it'll probably be one or so. I'll catch up with you at the pool, okay?"
With a quick kiss to the lips, Phillip was on his way to the main house, Michael heading towards the place where breakfast was being served. As he walked in, his eyes were not on the wildly carved ice sculptures, nor the array of foods, but rather two of the chefs, adorned in those tall hats, which Michael thought looked kind of funny. He remembers seeing Scotty in one once and couldn't keep himself from knocking it off his head. But being they were no longer considered a couple, he refrained from doing so. Inching his way around the room, he made it a point to stray from his ex-lover. Though, as he picked at the different foods, his attention was still drawn away from the eggs, bacon, toast, fruits, salmon and other delicacies. Then, their eyes met briefly, Michael dropping his to the plate of crepes in front of him. When he looked up, Scotty was gone, but his mind refocused on Alex and Kyle and some big dude with them, apparently keeping people from
bumping into his charge. With no one else particularly in mind to dine with, he walks over to them.
"Hey guys! How's it going?"
Affectionately, Alex and Michael hug. Kyle runs his hand up and down Michael's arm.
Palmer says, "You can introduce me, if you want?"
Alex says, "Michael, this is Palmer. He's helping to take care of Kyle."
Flashing his usual smile, Michael says, "He can take care of me too!"
He stood about five inches taller, Palmer saying with a smile, "I can do that! I mean, I am here for Kyle... but..."
They found a table, Kyle being situated and Alex going for the food tables, choosing a plate for Kyle first.
Palmer said he would help, but he was no help, Michael catching his ear.
"Hey, I don't know if you know this Palmer, but people can see right through that dress you're wearing?"
Palmer laughed his ass off, pawning off Michael's comment, "You okay that I'm a crossdresser?"
Then reassessing things, Michael corrects himself, "That's not a dress, is it?"
"It doesn't matter. What matters is..." and his eyes lit up for this one, "if you like what you can see through it?"
Then Michael confesses, "I can really only see it from the waist up. You must be wearing briefs?"
"I am."
"And probably it's because of your dark skin."
"You like brothers of color?"
As he holds a plate, his second, since Michael was at the platters of food, he thought of a second helping as he responded to Palmer, "I've only tasted 'one'."
Having designs of his own on Michael, Palmer replies, "I would like to taste you... get you deep into my throat!" He helped himself to food too, Palmer really loading it on his plate.
Michael smiled and the conversation was ready to continue, when they hear a sarcastic voice say, "What the fuck are 'you' doing here?"
Looking around Palmer, like around the corner of a building, Michael sees Kostas.
Palmer, turning around, is on his best behavior and as courteous, asking, "I beg your pardon?"
"You're the fuckin' asshole who screwed up my massage last year. You almost broke my rib!"
"I don't remember," Palmer said.
Standing as tall, maybe an inch taller, Kostas is about a foot in front of him and accosts him with his words, "Maybe this will remind you!"
Bending over a little, Kostas brings his fist up between Palmer's legs and smashes it into his balls.
"Ugh-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-oh-h-h-h-h! Oh-h-h-h!" Palmer screams, dropping to his knees, holding his hands between his legs, his plate of food hitting the floor.
"You asshole!" Michael yells at Kostas.
Wanting some more revenge on Palmer, Kostas yells at Michael, "Fuck off," pushing Michael in the chest, which sends him flying backwards, into some other guys. He too falls on his ass, his plate of food right up against his chest. He watches as Kostas kicks Palmer in the stomach, yelling obscenities at him.
To their rescue, Alex appears and tries to break it up. Fortunately he is caught by two onlookers.
By now, Palmer has rolled over on his back and is still in pain.
A little stunned, Michael watches from his 'ringside seat'. But when Kostas lifts his foot, readying to pounce Palmer again in the balls, he jumps up, grabs a tiny-tined shrimp fork and pokes Kostas in the back of his speedo! "That'll teach ya to mess with me!" he addresses Kostas from the rear.
Kostas proceeds to do a version of the jerk dance.
More concerned about his friend, Alex says, "Are you okay Michael?"
"I'm fine, but poor Palmer!"
At his side, Michael squatted.
Alex stood as he heard Geoff's voice, "Do you know anything about this?" he addresses Alex, holding a shrimp fork in his hand.
"As I see it Geoff," Alex states, "it was self-defense?"
Geoff getting the firsthand account from the person who's ass it was sticking out of, he says, "Michael, you'll have to come along with me?"
"It wasn't his fault," Alex replies.
And from down on the ground, Palmer rolls to one side, one arm propping him up, protesting, "It was Michael who saved me from a bad beating."
"He was beat bad enough," Michael defended both of them, "Palmer taking a fist to the balls and a kick to the stomach."
"You hurt bad?" Geoff asks Palmer.
"Nah. Nothing broken," Palmer replies, "except maybe my ego!" And before anyone else gets a word in edgewise, he says, "Michael, you saved my life. I owe ya!"
Right away, Michael was thinking of ways for repayment!
"Alex, are you okay?"
"What are you doing out of your seat?" Alex showed more concern for his lover, who by now stood with the small enclave at the 'scene of the crime'.
As Michael walked away with Geoff, Palmer asks, "I wonder if the security guard is going to need a statement from me? What do you think Alex?"
He could see the forest through the trees, Palmer more concerned about Michael, rather than Geoff's need for reporting the incident, so releases him from his duty, replying, "Maybe this afternoon you can give Kyle a massage."
Agreeing, Alex and Kyle watched as Palmer caught up with Michael and Geoff.
"Alex, I don't know if I take much more excitement," Kyle says as they finally settle down for some brunch.
"Oh really?" he asks, downing a blade of bacon. "I thought maybe after breakfast I could drum 'up' some, but if you're not in the mood?"
"Really?" Kyle suddenly perked up. "You're gonna do it?"
"We'll see."
They pretty much had the large, round, circular table to themselves, when a voice asks, "This seat taken?"
In reality, there was room for eight at each table, so in addition to the one inquiring, five others immediately sat down on their tushes, dropping plates of breakfast foods on the table.
He introduces himself, "I'm Kyp and this is Gino, Micah, Yon, Peter and Erik."
Each introduced themselves to Kyle and Alex, reaching across the table, at least shaking Alex's hand. Of course, Alex standing to reach, he got the once over with each pair of eyes!
They touched on the subject of the feud, each showing no regret for the shrimp fork porking Kostas' ass.
Alex asks, "So, how come Kostas is so 'un'popluar?"
All of them spoke at once, their answers trickling down to Kyp representing their opinions, "He thinks he's God's gift to modeling, but I think he's really scared."
"Of?" Kyle asks as he sips some OJ.
"All the younger models coming up through the ranks."
Gino shares, "Everyday Cayman gets at least twenty-five portfolios in the mail."
Alex asks, "And does he go through them all?"
"That's why he's got Tom Space," Yon says in broken english.
Kyle hadn't met Tom, Alex suspecting he saw him, but wasn't sure if it were him, but before he could ask, to the table strutts a speedo-clad youth.
"Guess what Micah?" he's all bubbly with info.
Micah stands, kisses him on the cheek, taking both hands in his, addresses him, "Did you get it?"
"Well, not the briefs adverts, but Cayman says I can probably qualify for next year's 'Toolman' calendar. Isn't that cool?"
"Isn't that sweet?" Kyle says to Alex, when the two give each other a bear hug.
Alex replies, "I wonder what the prerequisites are for the 'Toolman' calendar?"
Overhearing, Kyp responds, "Oh I'm sure you would have no problem qualifying Alex!"
"Oh really? In what respect would you mean that be Kyp?"
Snagged, Kyp tripped over a few words before arriving at, "You're tall! Yeah... that's it... Cayman likes tall models for all his calendars!"
Satisfied in his faux response, he is contridicted by Micah's boyfriend, his demeanor dropping a few decibels in disappointment, "Really?"
Then, pitting Byron's emotions against trying to bullshit Alex, Kyp says, "Um nah," then apologizing, "Sorry Alex for um... checking you out."
Yon speaks up on behalf of his friend, "Hey, you're not the only one guilty of that Kyp!"
And when Kyp excuses himself to find a glass of water, the others follow, leaving Micah and Byron at the table, which Micah proceeds to introduce to the couple.
When hearing Byron found his way onto the estate much like Darryl Winters, Alex says, "And as I hear, once Cayman shows approval, there's nothing Geoff can do about kicking an 'illegal guest' out!"
Micah sides with his boyfriend as he reports back, "Especially if he's got a lot going for him!" He instigates a sweet kiss.
Detecting something more than a mere aquaintance, Alex asks, "So, what are your plans after the weekend is over?"
Micah, older, at age twenty, speaks for the two, "Byron is heading right back to finish up his senior of high school. As for me, well, I thought I could land something while here at the party, but it's slow going," him rationalizing, "with all the 'competition'."
Byron speaks up for him, obviously trying to cheer him, "The weekend is not over. You could still get something and if you don't, I can at least 'try' to ask my parents if you can spend some time with us?"
"Where were you staying before the party?" Kyle asks with concern.
Not wanting to admit it, Micah replies, "Here and there. Wherever I could find a place to stay. Sometimes it was with some homeless people in a shelter. A person can't complain for at least having a roof over their head and a meal."
Byron interjects, "I want to help, but I can't see any other way and my folks won't want Micah staying with us for long. I don't even know if they will in the first place, being they don't know I'm gay. When they find out, I don't even know if they will want 'me' staying there!"
Charity extended from Alex's soul, him being one of five children, growing up without a father, there were always neighbors or people from the church who helped them along. He had brought Michael Coelho home one afternoon, but didn't want to press his luck, being it was Kyle always footing the bill.
Fortunately, he was pleased when his lover addresses the situation, "We've got plenty of room where we live in the city, if either or you should ever need a place to stay?" And Alex was surprised when Kyle asks, "If it's alright with you?"
"Fine with me," Alex readily answers.
With pride, Micah offers, "Well I don't plan on loafing off of you two. I'll pay my way as soon as something comes up and I'm making money to support myself."
Alex jokes, "I wouldn't worry about it." And pointing to his other half, "Kyle's loaded!"
"You're lucky I know you're joking Alex... um, you are joking aren't you?"
Before the two could finish their merry-making, Tom Space happens by, informing, "Cayman wants you up to the house Bryon... you too, Micah."
"Really?" Micah's attitude sparks. "Me too?"
Byron says, "I put in a good word for you."
Taking in the threeway conversation, Alex asks before they leave, "Tom called Byron 'Bryon'."
"Oh yeah," Byron explains, "when they were taking my information down Tom accidentally spelled my name wrong. Now everybody calls me 'Bryon'."
"Except me!" Micah says of it all, a sweet smile sent Byron's way.
"See you guys later," Alex says as the two depart.
Kyle assures, "And don't forget if you need someplace to crash!"
%
"Fuck Kostas! Can't you keep out of trouble?"
"I promise I will from now on Cayman," Kostas tried getting himself out of hot water.
"Why am I finding it hard to believe you? I can't believe that a person on their way to becoming one of the top super models in the world is giving me so much grief! First you pee on some bushes, then you assault one of the workers?" Cayman fans his hand towards Palmer, whom is sitting in the small culdesac of his office amid a grouping of sofas and chairs, comfortably arranged around an wrought iron and tiled coffee table.
Then, anger turning him into a 'monster' again, Kostas brutally says, "The asshole was kicked off the estate last year because he almost killed me and some idiot allowed him back!"
"Oh really Kostas? And just 'who' was that idiot?"
"I don't know, but the man's a menace!"
Playing it cool, Cayman wasn't saying it was himself who had secured the services of Palmer, replacing Nalin, with the ensuing emergency leave.
Michael, Geoff and Palmer sit there attentively as Cayman asks, "Tell me Kostas, what was the response to your injuries last year?"
Recalling last summer's Stud Muffin Party and the incident, it angers Palmer all over again, him speaking up, "Nobody dialed 911, but him and his Greek buddies made sure I left promptly. And not only that, you're security man made sure I left with good warning never to come back!"
This interested Geoff, as well as Cayman, knowing the former security manager not only looked out for the welfare of his guests. Before Geoff could ask, Cayman was right on it, "And how would that go?"
"He stood there while Kostas' Greek buddies took turns working me over. I was sure, for certain, he was enjoying himself." Then to Kostas, "I know 'he' was having a good time!"
"That is absurd!" Kostas barks back at Palmer's remark, hoisting himself out of his cushy chair.
It gave Geoff creedance to get up, ready in case a new confrontation made things get out of hand.
Palmer tells all, "I would have liked to see the bruise you say you got from me massaging your abs. Me, I had plenty of them afterwards, not to mention not getting my massage table back. And your security guard," he pinned some of the accusations on Cayman, "threw my case out into the street. Not only didn't I get paid, but I lost nearly fifteen hundred dollars worth of equipment!"
Not all business, Cayman was feeling remorse for Palmer's situation, especially when something deep within was making the attraction more real. "Did you submit a bill to me?"
"I wasn't going to, but my roommate said I really should. I did, but I didn't hear anything back, so I gave up."
Cayman went to the door, said something which included the name, 'Tom Space'. Shortly thereafter, Tom appeared, Cayman inquiring, "Do you remember receiving a bill for equipment on behalf of Palmer...." he fished for a last name.
"Stroop. Palmer Stroop."
Leave it to Michael, "Stroop? That's kind of weird!"
Geoff tapped Michael's thigh, putting his finger to his lips.
"Yeah," Palmer replies. "Believe it or not I have some Dutch in me."
In the meantime, Tom was looking through his laptop files. "Yes, a Palmer Stroop. His matter was forwarded to our attornies."
"And?"
His laptop on the coffee table, Tom's hands showed frustration in the matter, him replying, "I don't know."
Without even a whim towards inverstigating, Cayman says, "Tom, cut Palmer a check for five grand and have it here on my desk within the next hour."
"Right away, sir," Tom says. As he's leaving, he makes sure he takes in the total worth of the man he's cutting a check for.
It doesn't go unnoticed, Palmer watching Tom leave.
Then things go back to addressing the situation, Cayman already having it in mind, "Kostas, I want Geoff here to escort you back to your lodgings and..."
And as Cayman slowly put it in as nice terms as he could afford, he slowly kicked Kostas off of his property. It didn't go well at all with Kostas, Geoff having to hold him back from him getting his last licks in with Palmer, off holding the Greek's arms behind his back in restraint.
Michael and Palmer were all eyes and open to Cayman shouting stuff like, "You're not going anywhere in this business with an attitude like yours, Kostas."
"You need some help, Geoff?" Palmer offers.
"Nah. I've got a lot more muscle here than pretty-boy!"
However, when Cayman opens the door, Vince happened to be standing there with a different 'offender', saying, "They told me you'd be here... need some help?"
Geoff indeed needed some, so with Kostas, he and Vince toiled at taking their 'prisoner' away.
In Kostas' wake, they were left with Vince's abandonement, Cayman asking, "So what are you in trouble for Steve?"
Right inside the door, Michael and Palmer were having a feast, their eyes on the medium brown-skinned dude being brought inside the office by Cayman.
In an island accent, the dark-skinned dude says, "It is not all my fault! When I get in the shower somebody take my speedo when I am not looking. Then!" Steve dramatically says, "when I come out there is nothing to dry off with and no clothes! I find a volleyball and hold it in front of me, but the security guard... he say it not proper clothing to wear outside. So... I'm busted!"
"You have a towel around your waist now?"
"I know. I get it after I am busted."
The way he was saying it, gave Cayman tough resistance towards keeping a straight face.
Palmer goes to bat for him, "As I see it, it's not Steve's fault at all!"
Michael could already see the 'writing on the wall', as the two connect eyes and respond with reflecting smiles.
Not oblivious to Cayman, he introduces, "Steve, this is Palmer."
"Very nice to meet you, Palmer," Steve says.
Palmer extended a hand, but Steve extends a full hug, encompassing his whole bod.
"Hi! I'm Michael," Michael says.
"Good to meet you too," Steve offers a handshake!
"So, is this the new model for the island shots Cayman?"
It wasn't, but Cayman figured since he forgot about Steve's afternoon shooting and finding a replacement for the model who didn't 'match up', plus the fact he thought five grand was the tip of the iceberg when it came to Palmer's suffering last summer, he said, "That's him!"
"Me?" Palmer asks, shocked to hear, his hand on his chest.
Steve's reaction, "Mm-m-m!"
With not much attention on him, Michael says, "I think I'll leave you brothers of color and go see what Phillip is up to!"
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Copyright 2010 T. Chase McPhee
`For Sale By Owner: CK's Stud Muffin Party' may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.
The more you stretch, the more you can fit in... 'spread' happiness! TCMcP.....