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.
%
FoR SaLE By OwNEr 61 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
%
Morning at the Coffee Bean might have seemed `extremely busy' to the ordinary guy, but for the crew who worked there it was just another day. So Alex thought it would be.
"Alex I got something to tell ya." Adrian worked his hands, folding them nervously then cracking his knuckles before he confesses, "I've been on the phone off and on all day with Petr and..."
Alex knew this was all coming to a point, so....
"Y'see, Petr's folks run this dairy farm back in Wisconsin. It's been in the family since about... wooo maybe..." Adrian went on and on.
Being a good audience, Alex stood there and listened, a slight smile on his lips, knowing Adrian was avoiding the real reason for wanting to tell him something. "Ah, Adrian, is there something you wanted to tell me?"
A pause followed, Adrian knowing Alex knew this wasn't about Petr's family's farm or how many cows they owned. "Alex, you've been really nice to me and... and.. well... I'm going to have to ask you to let me go."
With a slight smile on his face, Alex replies, "How can I not bow to the wishes of someone who got David Sonnemaker off my back?"
"You mean that for real? I mean you understand, don't you?" Adrian still pleaded.
Cutting to the chase, Alex asks, "When's your last day?"
"Today?" Adrian says, but waits for a reprise.
Anger wasn't one of Alex's traits, so instead he reaches out with his hand and wishes, "Good luck to you then, Adrian."
"Thanks Alex," Adrian replies, giving Alex a friendly hug. "I'll get my stuff and..."
"I understand," Alex tells him, still feeling like Adrian is trying to apologize after two days of working there, then cutting the strings. Seeing Adrian out the front door, Alex wishes, "May the force be with you!"
Adrian smiles, saying, "You too, Yoda!"
"What's up?" Michael asks Alex as he stares out into the crowded street.
"What's up?" Alex says to Michael, eyeing him up and down. "What's up is...." he puts his hand on Michael's shoulder, "What's up is `you' are promoted from bottle-washer to waiter!"
"Then who's gonna do my job?" the eighteen year old asks, like he was ten years old.
"I dunno. I'll have to get some other sucker down on his luck!"
"Oh. So that's what you think of me!" Michael replies, in a cheerful manner, knowing Alex is pulling his chain.
"Only one problem," Alex says as his eyes return to Michael like he's checking him out, "if we don't get some meat on those bones the waiter's attire is going to be hanging from that skinny frame of yours!"
"Oh really? Maybe I can scrounge around outside and find a half-eaten burger in the trash!"
"Michael my friend," Alex takes him under the wing of his arm, "those days are over." Then like he's looking into a crystal ball, his hand making circular motions, Alex tells him, "I see a bright future for you."
"You do?" Michael asks innocently. "Um, can you tell me if it includes Scotty?"
%
Without reservation or as it seems carelessness, when Chris was released from his bondage he fell right on top of Asaf's bod, rolling over onto his back, neither his father nor Asaf's father showing any remorse. Not only had his back suffered under the one hundred lashes, but the tip of the whip had wound around his side, lines halfway across his chest and stomach. Neither of them could hear of their fate, planned by what would seem like uncaring fathers. However, bound by tradition the two had done their duty' as caring parents in disciplining' their children. After delivering the just punishment for their crimes, sexual intercourse with the same sex partner, Chris and Asaf were now considered outcasts and so treated as such.
In their native tongue, the two fathers gathered up their sons, the two men lifting each one, Asaf's father taking the legs of Chris as Chris' father taking him under the arms. Trekking up the stairs, Chris was placed faced down by the front door. Soon Asaf joined him, the two side by side. Again the father's tongues began telling each other of what they should do. They decide to wait til nightfall before they spring into action.
%
When they got to talking this morning, Vince talked on and on about Breaux, Kyle at the mercy of having nothing much to do. So, to shut Vince up, nicely, Kyle offered to take him shopping rather than get tied up in cups and cups of coffee while hearing about Breaux's modeling career over and over. No, Kyle had to contend with Vince while shopping Braddock's.
"So, which outfit do you think I should wear to this party we're going to?"
"I dunno Vince. Maybe you should have stuck to shopping in the older men's shop?" Kyle replied.
"What does some twenty year old have, that I don't have? I mean I'm only thirty-four years old. It's not like I'm forty!"
"Well Vince, from what I hear of these parties, it doesn't matter what you wear because after you walk in the door you'll be saying `bye-bye' to your clothes anyway," Kyle tells him.
"Oh really? And how many of `these' types of parties have you been to mister?" Vince asks, still holding the burgundy and pink, diagonally striped D&G shirt, as both hands are placed on his hips.
"I've been tagging along to parties with my brother since I was sixteen. Hey, it's not so tough when you've got a dad who's drawing in a seven digit salary every year, to find a party to go to."
Returning to the mirror Vince asks, "So you think the pink would clash with my fair skin?"
"Not if you got a tan, Vince!" Kyle puts into his head.
"Get a tan? We're not like in Barbados you know?"
"I was talking about a tanning salon, Vince. I know of a good one downtown. `Sgot a real cute staff too!"
"Hmmm," Vince admires himself again in the mirror. "I suppose this bod `could' stand a few rays."
"I'll get the phone," Kyle says, knowing he's won out over Vince by pointing out certain aspects of the salon. But just as flips open his cell, it rings. Cupping his hand over it, he tells Vince, who is looking curious, "It's Jakov."
"He misses me already?" Vince says as he chuckles, the two having seen Jakov not less than an hour and a half ago. Then he drops the cheerful facade when he sees Kyle's happy disposition fall. "Whatsamatter?" he provokes.
Two seconds later, Kyle is hanging up.
"So?"
"It could be nothing. Jakov and Chris were planning on getting together for lunch. Jakov can't get him on his cell."
"Maybe his cellphone ran out of juice?" Vince inquires.
"Possibility."
Seeing Kyle mulling over it, Vince asks, "But you don't think so?"
"Got an idea," Kyle says, turning from Vince to his cellphone.
The busybod, Vince listens to Kyle asking for a `Raul Quintana', then silence.
"Friend of yours?" Vince asks.
"My father. He helped out Raul's family when they moved to the US and became citizens. Turns out, Raul's father started at the bottom of the totem pole at my father's company and in no time was ready for the board."
"Cool!" Vince replied. "So his father became a bigwig like yours then?"
"No. He quit, formed his own company, worked hard and made enough to put Raul through college, as well as the other kids and still had plenty of loot leftover!"
Little did Vince know, Raul caught the last part of the conversation, accusing Kyle of spreading rumors about him.
More on a mission of mercy rather than everyday chit-chat, Kyle immediately sprang to the matter at hand, explaining as little needed, "Right and the last we all saw of Chris was early this morning.... yeah, as far as we know he was headed home."
When Kyle told him he hadn't an address for Chris, Vince injected food for thought, "Tell him to call the limo company!"
"Oh right. Raul, Vince just reminded me..." then Kyle was interrupted, "Vince, the guy who's with me..." Kyle listened then replied in a disturbing manner, "Noooooo, he's not the trick I just picked up!" He was going to elaborate but this wasn't about him. It was about Chris.
When Kyle signed off, Vince asks, "Is he cute?"
"Vince, you're taken. Get used to it!"
"Oh yeah. I forgot." Then Vince jumps back on subject, "Soooo, what's Raul up to with Chris?"
"He's calling the limo company."
"See?" Vince says with pride, "I am' worth something afterall!" When Kyle smiled, Vince knew it was something of no good'. "What are you holding back on?"
"Raul. He's as horny a bastard as you are. He asked me if you were cute."
"And?"
"You heard me. This call was about Chris, not a trick hotline, Vince!" Taking the pink print off the rack, same one Vince fancied, Kyle adds the last bit of detail, "but before I hung up, Raul `did' ask me how big you were!"
Kyle should've kept his mouth shut, because for the rest of their shopping trip Vince wanted to know every stat and detail about the private detective.
%
"Guys! Guys! Look what I got!"
Michael hadn't heard about Alex being the `king' of tippers, still holding the honor since Adrian had vacated the premises. Scotty had known the $100 tip Alex received and was about to make mention of it when Alex butt in with, "$50? Cool! You keep that up, Michael," he took Michael by the shoulder like a bosom buddy, "and you'll be swimming in a bank vault full of money!"
"Yeah!" Michael screamed out in excitement, jogging across the floor and forcing himself into Scotty's arms. "Then we can get our own place, huh Scotty?"
"That we could do," Scotty returned the affection, smiling at Alex, illiciting a mouthed reply, "You're so sweet!"
Ian appears, complaining, "Um, sorry to bother you Michael, but there's like an army of people out there and my arms ready to fall off from toting trays?"
"Keep your shirt on, Ian," Alex tells him. But as he ushered Ian out of the kitchen he was wondering what was under Ian's shirt!
As the two entered the people' part of the cafe they were greeted by regulars, Alex taking on some of the unfamiliars'. "The coffee will be along in a moment," Alex said as he seated two `suits'.
Alex didn't catch this, but Ian picked up on it, telling Alex when they reached the waiter's station, "You've got to look over your shoulder more often Alex!"
"Huh?"
Ian nodded to the `suits' table, "The one in the brown, scratchy looking suit.."
"Scratchy?" Alex sidetracks Ian.
"Looks like somebody took a nail to a table," Ian explains. "Forget the suit. The cute one...."
"Cute one? Which one would he be? They're both cute," Alex gives Ian a hard time.
"The one in brown, the older guy as opposed to the one in black and young, watched your little ass wobble from side to side as you paraded yourself away from them."
"Tell me Ian, how would you know' I have a little ass' and that it wobbled?"
"Um," Ian scratched his head as he looked down at the floor. Not finding an excuse he says, "Doesn't matter. The older dude was checking you out."
After Ian's remarks Alex `had' to waiter this table even though it wasn't his job. But sometimes things required his services. Plus, before he left Ian, he told Ian to tell Michael to get his butt out here!
"Here we go," the brown `suit' said when Alex shows up with a silver carafe of coffee.
The picture Alex painted in his mind was gay', his mind made up as the brown suit' wouldn't leave his eyes off of Alex's, even though Alex looked away to the other guy, coming back, there was the suit's eyes, staring right up at him. So he used the old cliche, "I know I don't know you, but do you know me?" put in a roundabout manner.
"I don't think we've had the pleasure." He sticks out his right hand, "Jeffrey Ferguson and my associate, Wade Okano."
The guy was real slick, in Alex's understanding, waiting for the door to open, then taking advantage of things. He could have refused the stranger's hand, instead caving in to the flashy smile and good looks, "Alex Nouguet." Sitting across from him, Alex thought Wade more attractive. Plus maybe it was his shyness, compared to Ferguson's outrightness which drew Alex to the assistant. As with Ferguson, Wade's manner kept Alex at bay longer than necessary.
"We're from Polydor," Wade offers Alex.
Alex felt like a sap when Wade tugged his hand away. He knew which way Wade leaned, but to him Ferguson was as straight as a nail. "Polydor?" Alex asks, frankly not making any connection.
But instead of the shy side of the table answering, Ferguson blurts out, "You don't happen to sing or play guitar do you Alex?"
"Believe me," Alex replies, seemingly giving Wade more time than equally dividing his attention, "you `don't' want to catch me singing. Not even in the shower and as far as guitar. Let's just leave that one alone. Nope," and then he slips, "briefs are my claim to fame!"
"Briefs is it?" Jeffrey asks, sexual connotations in the manner of asking.
"Dad, you're embarrassing Alex!" Wade spoke up.
Pointing the finger back and forth, Alex quickly evaded the subject, "You're father and son?"
"Step-father," Wade put it.
Then the conversation became two-sided, Jeffrey asking why his son always had to bring up the `step-son/step-father' business.
"More coffee?" Alex forced a temporary truce.
"Excuse me," Wade said, backing himself out from under the table. He threw his napkin down in front of him and exited to the back of the Coffee Bean.
Alex jokes, "I guess if you've gotta go, ya gotta go!"
Jeffrey didn't find the comment funny, but at the same time wasn't annoyed by it. "Alex, what is it with kids these days?"
"Hm?"
"Wade there. I've taken him under my wing, made him my right hand man and this is the thanks I get!"
Not knowing much about the two, Alex did see something which plagued parents over the centuries, diagnosis - the generation gap. "Maybe that's the problem," then not being scared to say, "Ever think about the way you treat Wade?" Alex sat in Wade's chair and felt like a therapist.
Meanwhile, Wade lingered in the jon, hands on the sink. He looked up into the mirror. He loosened his tie and unlatched the top button. He put his head down, looking into the sink, exhaled then looked at himself in the mirror again. A bit calmer he thought about getting back. Before doing so he took water in two hands and splashed cold water on his face. "Oh shit!" he said out loud to himself as it came out full throttle, splashing like a tidal wave towards his pants. The lower part of his shirt didn't escape the onslaught of water. He stood there for a moment, a smirk on his face, staring at his wet shirt from almost below his pecs to waistline.
"What happened to you?" Ian asks the total stranger.
Flustered, Wade replies, "I just wanted to wet my face and this torrent come out like..."
"You don't have to tell me. Been there, done that," Ian McCollough says. "And happened to me the `worst' of times, when I was waiting on tables and couldn't stop in between to change, so did the only thing I could."
"And that would be?"
Punching his fist against the silver knob, the hand dryer kicks in at a supersonic sound.
"And then?"
"I know I could get in trouble for saying this, but... take your shirt off!"
"Hmm," Wade outweighed the situation.
It's then Ian figures, "I guess I'm in trouble!"
But to his surprise Wade reaches for the knot in his tie and begins to unravel it. Looking down he unbuttons each button, occasionally glancing up at Ian.
His eyes roamed here and there, but Ian couldn't hide the fact his curiosity sought out what was under the shirt.
With two buttons to go, Wade halts his actions. His hands drop to the sides of his sport coat. He looks at Ian.
With wordless communication, Ian steps forwards, his hands reaching out. He hasn't done this too often, helped a man out of his clothes, but it was with precision he undid the last two buttons. Then in a switch, Wade took Ian's hands and forced them inside his shirt.
"You beat me to it!"
But Ian couldn't express himself with more words as Wade placed his hands on Ian's shirted ribs, slid them around his back, drawing him into his clutches, his lips on a collision course.
Withdrawing after a short kiss, Ian states, "From looking at you I hardly thought of you as the forceful type."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it to be `forced'."
He said it sweetly and Ian was eating up the affectionate response. "I didn't think of it as such."
Coming to an end, the garbage can which Ian had placed under the door handle gave way to clunking when the handle was jiggled from the outside.
"Oh, well I guess I better start heading back to work." Then instructing, "You can blow the dryer on your shirt and it should dry in no time."
"What about my pants?"
They weren't in a place where his opinion could be validated so Ian told him, "They are dark. No one will notice." Sliding the can out of the way of the door, Ian manhandled it.
Getting in his last say, Wade asks, "If your free this weekend I'm going to a party. You're invited."
His hand releasing the door handle, Ian walks back and says, "Moving kind of fast aren't you?"
As the warm air blew into Wade's bod, his shirt billowing up like a hot air balloon, he responds, "I didn't mean to be, but... don't take this wrong, but I've never invited a guy to accompany me anyplace and...."
"I didn't take it offensive and... sure. I'd like to help break in your `out' side."
Seeing more could be had from talking with Ian, Wade asks, "But maybe we should do dinner. Later? Tonight?"
"Can you swing by here later? I get off at six."
%
"You weren't kidding," Vince says to Kyle as they stand at a deserted counter at Sunless Heat tanning salon, downtown. And as a young guy walks past, Vince's eyes following, "lotsa hot meat floating about!"
"Hey Kyle, where you been man?" The attendant asks in his Jamaican accented voice. "Got any hot men in your life or are you still up for grabs?" Of course, his staring at Vince stimulated his thoughts towards the asking.
"Got myself a hot boyfriend." Then Kyle seeing the correlation, "It's not him," He points to Vince. "How about you Desmond?" Kyle replied.
"Not yet," Desmond replied, his eyes noticably scanning Vince from the part of his bod which could be seen above the counter.
Then seeing, Kyle introduces, "This is my friend Vince. He's looking for a tan. Got any cancellations?"
"Take care of him myself!"
"Mmmmmm," Vince replied.
Kyle rolled his eyes, knowing Desmond could be a flirt. It wouldn't be the first time he's seen Desmond leave his receptionist post to take on a guest at the tanning salon. In fact Kyle remembers the time the owner came by with an older client, requesting the hot looking Jamaican guy from behind the counter and how Desmond fussed so much his boss backed down. In no time Kyle was chatting with another hot dude, Jaime, after Desmond led Vince away.
"Very private," Vince remarks as Desmond ushers him into a room and closes the door, clicking it locked.
"It's the way I like it when taking care of `special' clients."
Vince had to ask it when seeing Desmond lift the tails of his Sunless Heat' tee shirt and peel it off over his head, "Um, aren't I' the one getting the tan?"
"Today is a special. Get a tan and massage for the price of one," Desmond replied with suggestion.
"But Kyle. He's waiting and..."
"Oh yes. Kyle. I almost forgot."
While Desmond called the front desk, Vince wetted his lips, taking in Desmond's smooth, blemish-free back, the outlines of his blades, as he looked upon the light brown-skinned attendant's bod. When he heard how long Kyle should wait before he made the pickup, Vince exclaimed, "Three hours?"
Hanging up, Desmond said to him, "Today the special includes the super deluxe massage and we finish off in the hot tub. Any complaints?"
With a toothy grin, Vince responded favorably without any complaints coming from him!
%
About three minutes after Ian left, Michael tries again to enter the men's jon. Immediately upon entering he sees Wade, his shirt open and the hot air still trying to dry it.
"Shirt got wet," Wade says as he looks over his shoulder.
Handing him a tip, Michael suggests, "Probably would dry faster if you took it off and held it under it." Then he went about his business at the urinal. When he flushed and backed out, started pulling up his zipper he couldn't help but miss the white, smooth shoulders. Doing his best to ignore, Michael washed his hands, but his eyes caught the reflection in the mirror. He knew the tingling in his crotch wasn't from the need to urinate. Seeing his gazes went unnoticed, he didn't even wait to allow it to become conspicuous, but rather grabbed a paper towel and fled.
"Problem?" Ian asks Michael as he breezes by?
"Could be. Some half-nude guy is airing his shirt out under the hand dryer."
"Is that so?" Ian asks. When Michael is out of sight, Ian cracks his knuckles and heads back towards the jon.
%
Copyright 2009 T. Chase McPhee
This story 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.....