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, in towns, cities, countries, nor governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most state and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such. % Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection.
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"For Sale By Owner" 48 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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It was after twelve when Jack dragged himself in from the barn. The sun beating down upon the landscape made everything warmer than the norm. Right in the kitchen sink he bowed over, saturating his head with water from the faucet. A dish towel became a bath towel, drying his soggy scalp, scaling it down his chest and stomach, wiping away some sweat, lncluding his pits and sides. Awful quiet around here,' he said to himself. He had left Jim in the bedroom last, so decided to check there. It was like walking into a foreign country, cursing, What tha?' Gone were the pile of clothes in the corner, socks on the floor removed, his dresser neat and tidy as a pin, the bed made, Jim molding the mattress to fit his bod, legs spread out, hands behind his head, sleeping like a baby. 'Out like a light!' Jack exclaimed to himself when sitting on the bed, his ass sinking down into the mattress. Leaning over, he placed his hand on the part of Jim's bod which first drew his attention. His hand rose and fell to Jim's inhaling and exhaling, a slight whistle exiting his nose. Not muscled, but not chubby either, rather beefy, Jack's hand discovered Jim's abs as he rubbed his hand around. He smiled, daring himself to poke his finger into Jim's bellyhole. Wiggling it around he began to get some moaning from Jim's lips. Sliding down, Jack wondered what other reactions Jim could have while sleeping.
"Feels good," Jim suddenly said, keeping the sleeping image.
"You faker!" Jack called out, roughly slapping his hand down on Jim's stomach.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Jim cried out, his hand going to his abs, doing a full crunch, then slacking back down.
"Want another?" Jack asked, grinning.
"Maybe later. The horses taken care of?"
"Yup. How about getting a shower then we'll go rustle up something to eat?"
Thinking it a good idea, he got up with Jack's help, hand to hand.
"Oh, by the way, what did you do with everything?"
"Ain't tellin'. Looks like you'll have to force it outta me!"
Jack responded to Jim's playing, "I love it when a boy plays 'hard-to-get-along'!"
They both started together in the shower, Jack turning on the faucets, complaining, "Where's the hot water?"
"I suspect the washing machine is hogging it all?" Jim replied.
Back in the bedroom he marveled at the cleanliness, even the raunchy odor gone. He sat on the side of the bed when the phone rang. "Hello? Yeah he's here. Work? Oh, I bet he forgot about it..... Is that so?" Jack answered Bill's questions and made some observations. "So you and Eric got along pretty good, eh?"
"Who's that?" Jim asked, appearing at the door, towel draped over his shoulders, one hand utilizing it to fluff up and dry his shaggy hair.
Jack mouthed the word, 'Bill'.
"Oh shit! I was supposed to open today!" Bending to look at the alarm clock, Jim saw it was after noon, only 6 hours past the time when he should have had the coffee brewing.
"Oh what a shame, Bill," Jack showed no mercy, "you had to put yourself out so!"
Bending over to read the clock, Jack took the liberty of giving him a nip tug! "Owch!"
"Oh no. Jim can't come in today. He's got a terrible back ache!" He winked at Jim.
"Tell him I'll be there tomorrow. He's supposed to open and I'll so it for him," Jim kind of whispered.
Quite the contrary, Jack told Bill, "Oh by the way, he won't be coming in til Monday."
"Monday?" Jim questioned Jack.
Unknown to Jim, Bill, on the other end, exclaimed the same thing.
"Yeah, I think he needs a four day weekend to get himself together." After a brief pause, Jack says, "Of course I worked him over real good. He was craving for the pain, so what was I supposed to do?" Then, cupping his hand over the receiver, Jack directed to Jim, "He bought it!"
"Cool!" Jim replied.
Then Jack said something to Bill which set Jim to thinking, "I heard my muscleboy complained about you."
Having to piss something fierce, Jim couldn't stay to listen, but made a note to ask later about Bill's circumstance.
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"So Scotty, you have a boyfriend?"
"I hope so," Scott returned, Reiko coming to mind. Then he said of Vince's dishpan hands, "You know there's a dishwasher?"
"Yeah, well call me old-fashioned, but I like doing things the natural way."
"Okay 'old-fashioned', have it your way. I'm going to get ready," Scott replied.
"Where you going?"
"Shopping. Kyle needs to pick up something for Alex. And oh, if the door bell rings, answer it?"
"Right-oh," Vince replied. Whistling a happy tune, from an old Rodgers & Hammerstein movie, he swirled the towel around the griddle, doing something his mother taught him, coating it with oil. All done, he walked back up the spiral staircase, finding a layout of jeans and a shirt lying on the bed.
"I think you're my size."
Turning, Vince wanted to snuggle up to Alex all over again. "You're tempting me there again, my friend!"
"Sorry. I'd like to stand here and chat, but my shift starts in an hour," Alex said, grabbing clothes here and there out of the drawers, letting a hanger swing erratically after pulling the white shirt from it.
Watching Alex's hairy ass crevice walk off to the jon, Vince shook his head, wondering what it would have been like if he and Alex were friends twenty years ago. After zipping up the jeans, Vince felt a little horny, thinking he was gilded in the clothing 'sexy Alex' had worn. "Oh shit!" He called out when the doorbell rang. Throwing the tee shirt over his head, he fed his arms into them as he ran around and around, calling out, "I'm coming! I'm coming!" Getting to the door, he flung it open. Unable to say a word his mouth fluttered open and closed like a goldfish.
"Is Kyle at home?"
"You... you.... you're Dex Riva, the guy on Tv!"
"Just don't stand there, Vince. Invite Dex in," Kyle swept by him, taking Dex's hand and inviting him in.
"I watch your show all the time, Mr. Riva!" Vince said as he slipped past him, thinking of all the times he's watched the gay channel, seen Dex in action either showing how to decorate a wedding cake or making party favors. Shutting the door, he opened it was again, looking out, seeing his chauffeur mulling about outside the vehicle. "Hey, you wanna come in?" He yelled to the guy.
Being nice about it, he declined Vince's invitation, saying, "Maybe another time."
Well when all was said and done, upon hearing that Dex Riva was going shopping with Kyle and Scott, Vince had to be in the numbers. Rustling Jarrett and Jason from sleep, gone were thoughts of the whale watch.
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"Alex you have to do something!"
"What do you mean?" Alex asks, walking in the front door of the Coffee Bean.
"Bill is on the warpath. He already went ballistic on Derek for not hustling fast enough setting up the pastry cart," Ian reported.
"So, what's his problem?"
"Jim. No show, no call. That is until he called... well he didn't call," Ian reported the jumbled facts. "Some guy called him out."
"Uh-oh." Then remembering something, he said, "Didn't Jim have that sbmp thing last night?"
"Bdsm. And yeah, guess what else?"
"Noooooooooo," Alex replied to Ian when he sprung on him Bill took Jim to the dungeon party. "I don't believe it. Okay, I do believe it. When Bill's having a cow, I can picture him as a mean sob, but most of the time he's this laidback pussycat."
"All the more reason why you have to go talk with him, Alex."
"Why me?"
"Because, Alex, you have celebrity clout?"
Alex rolled his eyes. They all knew David Sonnemaker was into this bdsm stuff and the dungeon party at his estate. The connection, Sonnemaker liked Alex, catapulting him into savior status around the Coffee Bean when dealing with Bill, plus it didn't hurt Kyle was his boyfriend, son of one of New York's most wealthiest realtors and friend of thee `Stephen Braddock', Braddock's enterprises spanning two continents as well as Austrailia. "Alright. I'll see what I can do."
"Yes?" Bill asked in a gruff manner, but mellowed out tremendously when Alex stuck his head in the door.
"Got a minute?"
Smiling, whether true or fake, it was enough to invite Alex into the small office.
"What can I do for you Alex?"
"How did it go at Sonnemaker's kinky party?"
"You missed a good one. Coffee?" Bill asked, returning his swivel chair to face Alex, a cup from his maker in his hand.
"No thanks. I take it you didn't have a good time with Jim?"
"Oh, so Ian told you?"
"Me and the others," Alex replied.
"As far as I know Jim had a good time," Bill said, avoiding his own welfare.
"Ian tells me he called out. He didn't get hurt or anything?" Alex asked, concerned, but curious as well.
With a smirk on his face, Bill told him out straight, "He had a good time alright and now he's sitting in the lap of luxury on a horse farm up in Westchester, while I'm sitting here in this cafe, working my tail off!"
Alex was debating on whether to mention or not that his Bill's `tail' doesn't see much more than his swivel chair ninety percent of the day. Instead, he asked the dreaded question, "So, you didn't enjoy yourself?"
Bill sat there, hand frozen to his coffee cup, staring at Alex.
"If you don't want to talk about it, I'll leave?" Yet Alex remained glued to his chair.
"It was a complete.... fucking shambles, that's what it was!"
He could have lied, told Alex everything went along as planned. However, truth is, he was bursting to tell someone about his incompetent experience last night.
"Didn't you and Jim go together?"
"That we did," Bill rendered, avoiding the details since it was part of the code of ethics 'not' to reveal the goings on at these dungeon parties. "Jim and I went 'in' together, but when it was over I went home by myself."
"So, who did Jim go home with? Or did he go home alone too?" Alex interrogated Miller.
In one way he wanted to stay bound to his oath, in another way Bill wanted to get everything off his chest. In order to do so, he would have to name details. He started out, "Everything was going along fine from the time we left the car and Jim stripped off his clothes."
"Like all of them? Even his briefs?" Alex asked, shifting his butt around in the chair.
"Yeah, well there's this ritual, in the beginning. All the boys are assembled outside, stripped down then... well I'm sworn to secrecy not to tell..."
"Well you've started already, so you can't leave me hanging here, Bill," Alex insisted.
Last night at the dungeon party he did his best to deliver a performance of top class, emmy-nominee master for Jack's muscle boy. Later hearing the muscle guy complained, wanting his money refunded for Bill's incompetence, it filtered back, hanging a bad name around his neck. The bomb dropped when David Sonnemaker called in the wee early hours telling Bill unless he got his act together he could forget an invitation to the next dungeon party.
It was a mouthful, a thought sticking in Alex's mind, "So these 'boys' have to 'pay' to go to the dungeon party, even though they are the ones getting roughed up and all? Like how much did Jim have to pay?"
"'I' paid Jim's way," Bill revealed. "Then Jack Kovacs had to go and steal him away from me...."
"Wait! I thought if you brought Jim to the party, you were like his 'master'?"
"I was. But Jack Kovacs put on his charm, telling me of the hot muscle boy he brought to the party, a guy who was almost no limits, ripped abs enough to stand a hundred gut punches and balls of steel. What else was I suppose to think?"
"Um, Jim doesn't have balls of steel?"
"He's a novice. This muscleboy has been around the block a few times. He knows the ropes. He was just waiting for me to belt him."
"So? Why the complaint if you did what you were supposed to?"
"First off, you have to know Jack Kovacs. All decked out in his leather, the man is a vision of an evil warlord. He's got years of experience behind him, knows what a guy is thinking, what makes him tick. He knows how to turn a guy on, how to intimidate him, humiliate him, how to..."
"So," Alex cut him off, "what you're telling me is you felt unqualified with your inept abilities and it showed through, with this... muscleboy?"
From high school, diving into the workforce, Bill didn't follow the big words, so stuck to simplicity, explaining for himself, "I felt like I didn't know enough to make it real enough, Alex."
Back to reality, Alex says, "If that's the case then I think you better get your act together. The Coffee Bean isn't a dungeon club and the guys shouldn't be treated like one of your slaveboys. I don't blame the lot of them if they are thinking about walking out of here."
"Has it come to that?" Bill acted nervous.
"Not yet, but if they don't get some respect from you soon, it could resort to it."
"Alex, I don't know what I'm going to do," Bill said, rubbing his head as he looked down at his desk.
"It's up to you, Bill. Either you change your attitude or change your staff and to tell you the truth, I'm not going to stand by letting the guys think I'm your brown-noser!"
"But I don't think of you that way, Alex. I don't mean what am I gonna do about the cafe. What am I going to do about Sonnemaker?" Bill still acted depressed.
"I don't know about Sonnemaker but being you're at work, I think you should concentrate on getting through the day first?" With that, Alex picked himself up and left.
It pretty much shot to hell the rest of Bill's day. Sure, he lightened up on the Coffee Bean crew, but behind the facade of the cafe, going through more coffee than it was good for one to drink, Bill sank deeper into his dilemma.
Before long, Alex came knocking at the door, letting himself in, saying, "I'm leaving now."
"Leaving? What time is it?" Bill said, unaware his smooth morning shave had filled in with 5 o'clock shadow.
"It's four o'clock. Remember I asked you yesterday if I could leave an hour early? You said yes?"
"To tell you the truth I forgot. Are we covered?" Bill questioned his most loyal and trusty worker.
"I've got it all covered. Derek cuts out at four, but is staying til five thirty and I called Phil and he should be here any minute to start his shift early. That sound good to you?"
"I'll take anything at this point," Bill replied.
"You know you shouldn't be so hard on yourself, Bill. Aren't there other guys with dungeon parties you can go to?"
"You don't understand, Alex..."
He cut Bill off with, "Oh you're like right on there, Bill. I don't have a clue to what goes on at these events."
"Well anyway, there 'are' other dungeon parties, but none like the one Sonnemaker throws. On a scale of one to ten, he's like eleven!"
"What makes Sonnemaker such a hot shot?" Alex deviated for a moment from looking at his watch.
"Oh lots of reasons. He's got the secluded environment, the whole basement of his mansion is a playground for his guests, plus he has outside facilities and...."
"Okay, that's good enough," Alex replied, his hand stopping Bill from rattling out the assets.
"Also," Bill mentioned lastly, "since Sonnemaker has quality, all the quality masters are there." But then Bill sank down into his alltime low, saying, "And then there's me."
"I think I have the solution for you, Bill."
"Oh? I tell ya Alex. If you come up with something and it works, I owe you big time!"
'Hmm', Alex thought to himself, his wisdom and logic could pay off. "It's easy. If you need the practice, than go out and find some guy to practice on. Didn't you mention once there are flocks of guys wanting to be owned?"
"Yeah," Bill answered Alex, the same time setting up some new plans, telling him, "that's what I'm gonna do. Tonight matter of fact."
"Huh?" Alex asked, inquisitive to know Bill's after work activities.
"Tonight. There's another dungeon party happening."
"Sonnemaker?"
"No," Bill says, his mind wondering as if he's been given a second chance at living, "in lower Manhattan. I've got the flyer around here someplace."
Alex looked at the time, hoping Bill would hurry it up.
"Here it is! The 'BYOB' party of the year!"
"Bring Your Own Bottle?"
"Not 'bottle', 'boy'?"
"Oh right," Alex said, pointing his index finger to his head and pulling the trigger. "So you going?"
"If I can find a boy. Know of any?"
"Don't look at me," Alex said, assuring him, "I don't swing that way. You know that."
In a more upbeat manner, Bill says, "Oh, it slipped my mind, but David Sonnemaker was terribly disappointed you didn't show up."
"I wasn't invited. Remember? I hinted him of my disinterest last week?" Alex told him, a bit of annoyance programmed into his speaking.
"Whether you know if or not, when he mentions anything about a dungeon party to someone, it's in their best interest to attend," Bill said it as if Sonnemaker himself speaking, dictating it as if to say, 'be there or be square'.
"Well then this should definitely give David Sonnemaker the hint that I'm 'not' interested. I gotta go. I hope you find a boy."
Bill did too, sitting back and wondering if any of the numbers in his little black book were still active.
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"I can't believe I spent so much money!" Vince said, walking in the door.
Jarrett, the wiseguy says, "You bought every fuckin' thing Dex Riva suggested." Then hypothetically, "If he asked you for a blow job would you given it?"
"I'm gonna smack you, you..."
"You're not really going to smack Jarrett are you Vince?" Jason speaks up in a tiny voice.
"Um no. Of course not. We were only kidding weren't we Jarrett?"
But Jarrett held out, not saying anything, knowing it would get Vince in a heap of trouble.
"I said, 'weren't we' Jarrett?" Vince impressed upon Jarrett, changing his lively tune.
"Sure we were. Don't worry about it babe," Jarrett said to Jason, putting his arm around Vince, saying, "We're as happy as two peas in a pod together, aren't we Vince?"
"Why yes. We are," Vince forced a grin while his hand, around Jarrett's back, was forcing itself down the back of his pants! When the others fled for the jon, kitchen, bedrooms and the Tv, Vince said to Jarrett, "So, you didn't mind my hand down your pants, huh?"
Jarrett smiled, replying, "Felt kind of hot. I bet you are a good ass rimmer!"
"One of these days, Jarrett McCollough, I'm gonna strangle the living daylights out of you!"
Laughing, Jarrett walked away towards the jon to make sure everything was coming out alright for Jason. As Vince watched his teen ass walk away, his tongue traveled the length of his lips, wondering if it was hairy or smooth. "Oh yeah!" He suddenly interrupted himself, digging his hand into his right pocket. Among a bunch of receipts, he found not one, but two cards. He compared them side by side, as if comparing the flower delivery guy to the chaffeur!
Walking in the front door, Alex asks, "Where the hell did all this stuff come from?"
Kyle, walking in, meeting Alex at the door with a 'welcome home kiss', frankly says, "Vince maxed out his credit cards!"
"What is all this stuff?" Alex asks, his hands in every bag, pulling out this and that. What's Vince going to do with a potato masher?"
"He said," Kyle informed him, "if he didn't mash any potatoes, it would be good use as a massager."
Taking it, Alex toyed with it around his pubes. He reported, "Doesn't do anything for me," tossing it back in the bag. "By the way, what's Scotty whipping up tonight?"
Alex's nostrils led him to the kitchen, as Kyle surprised him with, "It's the Scott Broyles-Vince Maselli cooking show in progress!"
"Hey Alex! Come get your hands wet! Scotty and me are havin' a helluva good time!" Vince greeted Alex, overjoyed with someone else discovering his delight in kitchen work.
"No thanks. I've got to get ready."
Kyle put an index finger to his lips, suddenly realizing, "Oh yeah. I almost forgot."
"How could you forget Carlos' trumpet recital at Manhattan School of Music? He only called everyday to remind us!"
"I love trumpet music," Vince butt in. "Is he going to play anything Italian? You know, like..."
All three, Scott, Alex and Kyle rolled their eyes, staring at each other as Vince started singing 'Funiculi, Funicula', dancing the tarantelle, trying to coerce the three into doing the same.
Coming into the kitchen, Jarrett mocks them saying, "Didn't you hear Vince? Disco is dead!"
"I'm gonna smack you Jarrett McCollough!"
However, Vince did get a little compensation for Jarrett's joking, swinging his towel, snapping it right at his front.
"Owwwwwwwwwwwch! Oh shit! You saw that guys.. the old man is a abusing a child!" Jarrett yelled. "Somebody call 'Family Services'!"
All smoothed out though when Vince casually said to Jarrett as he lifted up his tee shirt to assess the damage, "Cute little treasure trail you got there, sonny!"
"Yeah and your weapon painted a stripe right down it!" Jarrett replied, his finger following the red mark to his navel.
Losing interest, or pressed for time, Alex and Kyle excused themselves, Scotty going to check the Chicken Florentine in the oven.
"Hmmm... I wonder where this trail here leads?"
"You know Vince, you're too horny for your own good. Don't you have some nice guy your own age to play with?"
"Nope!" He shot out with. "Not yet, but I got two prospects just waiting to wrap their lips around my big piece!"
At least it changed Vince's mind about following the trail down under Jarrett's belt buckle. However, the eighteen year old was already turned on by an older guy feeling the fuzz up under his navel, zings going through his loins.
"Two prospects huh? They your age?"
Sensing something, maybe piecing things together since he's come to know Jarrett, Vince replies, "Why? You lookin' for a daddy?"
"Me? I'm not into older guys."
"Oh," Vince said, "then I apologize. I figured since you were asking maybe you wanted one for yourself."
"Forget it old man. I'm kind of into Jason and I'm not about to let what we have go to waste. So give up on trying to pedal one of your two old men off on me." Jarrett did turn around to look at Vince when the towel was snapped on his ass.
"Oops!" Vince said of Jarrett's look. "Please don't report me!"
Before exiting, Jarrett says, "You'll get yours old man!"
In reality, old man to Jarrett meant over thirty, as over seventy might have been the other end of the ratio for Vince.
"Get over here Vince!"
"What's up Scotty?" Vince said, hovering over the eighteen year old 'chef'.
"Even though the chicken has been in the oven for only thirty-five minutes, it's done. Which brings me to the conclusion."
"What's that?" Vince asked as Scott manned the oven gloves and removed the hot pan.
"This stove is not accurate. It could be.... older than you!"
Taking Scott for a total serious guy, Vince at first dummied up, thinking him serious, but then found out Scott can be a jokester too!
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Copyright 2008 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.