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 safetymatters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection.
PaTRick'S LuCKy CHarM 08 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"Aren't we looking spiffy today?"
"I'm wearing what Mr. Alvarez picked out for me," Patrick replied to Salv.
Giving a pull at one end of the bowtie, Salv yanks it loose, sliding it from Patrick's collar, "This is for the waiters and bellboys." He helped himself to unbuttoning the top of button of the Patrick's white shirt.
"And then what happens when Mr. Alvarez complains I'm dressing too casual?"
As he smoothes down the collar, "You tell him to see me."
"See you? Alvarez is the boss. What he says goes."
"Yeah right," Salv replies. "After I have my say in the matter!"
Patrick thought on it a second before letting it go over his head. "What's on the agenda for today?" He looks at the sheet of paper attached to the clipboard.
Taking it, Salv says, "First order of business is picking up the Hawaiian dude at the airport. C'mon. Let's go."
Funny', Patrick thought, I thought Ke'ala Alaka'i wasn't coming in until early afternoon'. As they hop in the country club jeep, Patrick asks, "Aren't we heading out for the airport a little early, Salv? I thought you said Ke'ala Alaka'i wasn't coming in until afternoon?"
"Right, but we've got some errands to run."
"Oh. Okay," Patrick replied, seeing it normal.
"How about breakfast?" Salv asks after turning into a café labeled, Doms Breakfast Café`.
"I ate my breakfast at home."
"You can use a bagel and coffee, right?"
Salv didn't wait for Patrick's answer, hopping out the doorless vehicle. "C'mon or we'll never finish up our errands before we hit the airport."
Patrick did what Salv did, manhandled himself out of the jeep and stepped lively, arriving at the wooden porch right after him.
Inside, Salv sat at the counter, telling the older, tall, muscle-bear right away, "This is the new manager out at the country club." And meant to inflate his ego, "Dom here makes the best eggs and sausages you ever tasted! Isn't that right Dom?"
Leaning over the counter, Patrick gulped, thinking this over-six-feet-tall dude could probably hammer a guy ten feet into the ground with his pinky. Instead he was as sweet as pie, taking Patrick's hand in his and gently holding it as he says, "It is so good to meet you, um..."
"Patrick," Patrick said.
"Patrick. Would that be Irish?" Really, Dom wouldn't care if he were Jamaican!
"I was born there."
"Think of it Sal... Salv? Where'd he go?"
"I don't know," Patrick replied, looking around. Realizing Dom hadn't unleashed his hand yet he asks, "Mind if I have my hand back?"
"Oh I'm so sorry," Dom said as sweet as a kitten. Rubbing one hand over the top of Patrick's hand before letting go. Really he had visions of his hands migrating under the shirt, journey beyond equator at his waist.
"It's okay," Patrick replied. "Maybe he had to go to the jon?"
"Most likely," Dom figured too, but was more inclined to think he was in the kitchen `talking' with the chef. "So, what can I get you?"
"I'm really not hungry."
"Coffee?"
"Sure."
"I'll be right back." As the big bear walked away he readjusted his crotch and exhaled a deep "Whew!" As he's done for sport, with other young guys, he'd be sure to spike Patrick's coffee with a load of his own special crème, then got hot under the briefs watching him drink it down.
Little did Patrick know what was going on in the kitchen. For summer employment, Dom didn't mind helping out one of the town's college students, giving him a job as a short order chef. He met all the criteria, twenty years old, nice build, handsome and the most specific item on his list, a tight ass! "I thought I'd find you here, Salv. Your friend is waiting."
"He's going to have to wait a little longer. Hector here is such a hot, tight fuck!"
Dom stood there, right away unzipping and fishing out his ten inches of soft meat. Like Salv, he couldn't wait to take care of business. Salv stood there, his pants down to his ankles, shirt parted down the middle, yet he had Hector totally stripped out of his chef's clothing. "Oh yeah... you're so tight Hector. Yeah, pulse that ass ring... "
Words and actions made Dom's cock become bloated in no time. "Oh man Salv... you've got me so horned up! Leave some of that tightness for me!"
Needing tuition money real bad, Hector really had no choice in accepting a job which rightly should have been paid less, but because of the special arrangements he made with the boss, received a nice sum for his week's toiling.
As for Dom, a hot ass around the establishment meant he could find relief any ole time of the day. Plus, it was an extra bonus for business, amassing some easy bucks on the side as patrons stopped by with the same intentions.
There was a reason Salv hit the café early on in the morning. By afternoon Hector's ass would be too loose for his requirements, as any man who stopped by for a hot fuck, a nice and tight ass ring.
Meanwhile, out in the café Patrick wondered why it was taking Dom so long to fetch a cup of java. He said to himself, "What did he have to do? Go to Colombia for it?" Too, he was a little annoyed at Salv, bringing him someplace and then deserting him. Picking himself up, he walked to the edge of the counter and up to the double doors leading to the kitchen. He thought he heard something, but said, "Nah." Hearing it again, Salv's voice groaning, `Oh yeah.... Oh yeah.... Oh fuckin' yeah!" He pushed the door open. Hearing but not seeing it, he ventured in further. "Shit!" he exclaimed, seeing Salv back off from the guy bent over the butcher block table. He first took in Salv's cock, all slimy, then the guy's ass, cum dripping out of it.
"Oh! Hi!" Dom said. "I guess you're wondering what's going on here, huh?" Hastily he stuffed his meat back into his pants, zipping up like a pro.
Too late, Patrick couldn't help but notice Dom's big ten inch beer-can-sized cock, stiff as granite as it was held with two hands, one cupping his humongous balls and half the weight of his shaft, the other stroking, which now halted. He had never seen such a big one. Swallowing, he says, "I never seen such a big one before."
Smiling, Dom asks, "Care to see what it feel likes?" He prayed.
But Salv quickly put himself in the middle of the two informing Dom, "Um, Patrick doesn't swing that way."
"I thought you said he was gay?"
Patrick then gets his digs in, "You told Dom I'm gay?"
"Uh, it came up in conversation," He lied.
Dom cordially invites, "Hey I got an idea. Why don't you get with Hector and show us what you got?"
"Huh?" Patrick wondered, looking over to the Latino, buckling his belt.
"Yeah. C'mon," Dom took Patrick by the shoulder, walking him over to where Hector was standing. Then to Hector, rather adamantly, "Drop them pants boy!"
It was his third day on the job and Hector's ass was hurting mighty bad from all the side-order business Dom was drumming up for him. First day Dom had more than his regular customers enter the café, curious to see what the new chef's ass felt like. Second day word had got around and the side-order business doubled. Hector's ten hour shift amounted to a minimum of four clients an hour. Today his day began with Salv shoving his tool in and out of his ass chamber. Last night he had thought about it. Other than his first customer' of the day he was tired of putting up with having his ass raped over and over, which resulted in more sex than cooking! He only stuck it out because for the past two weeks the paycheck brought in not only the regular salary, but tips, which about doubled his salary, which Dom let him keep as collaterla`. "Um no. I think I have had enough Dom."
"What?"
"No more ass-fuck!"
Then, from the sweet man Patrick met at the front counter, Dom's disposition changes as he directs to Salv, "I think you and Patrick should wait outside."
"Sure. No problem," Salv replies. "C'mon Patrick." And then to Dom, "See you tomorrow morning. Bye Hector!"
From Patrick's perspective, things didn't look rosy neither for Hector, nor Dom and he voiced his opinion, "Salv, don't you think we should wait around a little bit?"
"What for?"
"Didn't you see it?"
"See what?"
Pulling harshly on Salv's sleeve as he was about to leave the café, "Hector. Like he didn't even acknowledge your saying goodbye."
"Eh, he's always like that. All he cares about is getting his daily fuck."
"I don't think so. You heard him. And Dom..."
"He was a little upset okay?" Salv replies, trying to leave.
Again Patrick pulls him back in. "I don't like the way Dom is treating him. If you ask me, it's no way for Dom to treat somebody."
This time, Salv makes it through the door.
On Salv's tail, Patrick is still at it, "And why isn't Hector having a choice in whether he gets fucked or not?" Sitting in the jeep, Patrick stands outside, arms folded across his middle like he's standing his ground. "Something fishy is going on here and I for one don't like it."
"You're making a lot out of nothing Patrick. Now will you get in?"
"No!"
Salv had started the jeep, shifted and then out of frustration with Patrick, threw it back into park. "What do you want me to do for God's sake?"
"I kind of fear for Hector's safety that's all."
Then in a different direction, Salv says, "Getting sweet on him, huh?"
Still in the stiff pose, Patrick tells, "I'm not the one who fucked him."
"I swear Patrick." And after a slight thought, "How about we pick up the Hawaiian dude," abbreviated because Salv couldn't keep the name from becoming a tongue-twister, "and then double back and check on things."
"I suppose," Patrick gave in, but still had qualms about leaving the café. However it didn't last. Tight in his little bundle.
Patrick's arms folded tightly across his middle and feet flat on the floor showed Salve he wasn't giving up on Hector's situation. Salv, out of seeing this was going nowhere fast, asks, "So, what do you want?"
"I want `us' to go back to the cafe and make sure Hector is okay."
Huffing, Salv slows, pulls over on the gravel shoulder, does a u-turn and heads back from whence they came. Pulling in the same spot of the empty parking lot, Salv steps out of the jeep, with not the enthusiasm he had an hour ago.
This time Patrick led them into the café. "Where are they?"
"I tell you Patrick. You're making something out of nothing. You're bound to go and get yourself totally embarrassed. You'll see."
It was the end of breakfast time and the place was empty, including it's owner.
"Check the kitchen," Patrick told Salv, but was in the lead.
They checked. It was void of noise.
"What's that?"
"I didn't hear anything," Salv said.
"That's because you don't `want' to hear anything." Patrick utters, "There it is again."
"Sounds like a wounded animal."
"Oh so you did hear it, Salv?"
Now it was Salv hot on the track for a lead to the sound they heard. He walked past a door, heard something and immediately backed up, his back crashing into Patrick. Salv's ear went straight for the door, Patrick second.
"See? I told you, didn't I? Open it!"
Patrick tried first though and it didn't budge.
"Here, let me try." And after trying, Salv reports, "It's locked from the inside. Next he tried the most logical thing, banging on the door, yelling, "Dom are you in there? Open up!"
Both backed away from the door when they heard footsteps. They couldn't find out as Dom quickly unlocked the door, opened it, stepped outside it and closed it. Since the stairs descended, apparently this was a path to the basement.
"What do you want?" Dom asks demonstratively.
Patrick gulped, right away seeing the leather belt in Dom's hand.
"Um, Patrick was a little concerned over Hector and...."
"It's my business, so keep your fuckin' nose out!"
Patrick asks, "Um, will your pants stay up without a belt, Dom?"
A mistake, not leaving the belt where he was taking care of business, he says, "I was getting dressed, if you don't mind?"
Now it was not only Patrick with suspicions, Salv asking, "Um, I forgot to tell Hector something. Where is he?"
"He left. I fired him for insubordination."
Salv was buying it, but Patrick wasn't. "Okay. Fine. C'mon Salv."
When the two looked accepting, filed out to the parking lot, Salv renders, "See Patrick? I told you there was nothing happening."
Patrick had it all figured out and responded, "Dom's lying through his teeth. You don't buy that excuse that Dom was getting dressed do you?"
"He could have."
Having a gut feeling, Patrick says, "In as basement? Why not the jon? Besides Salv, I thought you had your suspicions?"
"I did, but..."
"I'll tell you what's going on. I don't know what Dom has over Hector, but Dom wasn't using that belt to hold up his pants and I betcha right now he's down in the basement harming Hector with it."
"You're imagining things, Patrick."
"I'm not," he replied like he always challenged Jason.
Sitting in the jeep, legs hanging outside it, Salv says, "Will you come on? Like Dom says. It's his business, okay?"
"And who's business is it if Hector is being abused?"
Then from the front of the café comes Dom, all cheery, "Hey guys. Sorry I talked to you like that. Why don't you come in and have some coffee... Have some bacon and eggs. It's on me!"
"See?"
"I see what I know," Patrick tells Salv.
Salv tells Dom, "Nah. We have to go. Tomorrow."
About a thousand feet up the road, Patrick sat like a statue in the jeep.
"Are you going to give me the silent treatment all the way to the airport?"
"We should go back."
Salv slowed the jeep, pulling over onto the shoulder. "Are you always like this?"
"Only when I know I'm right."
"Ugh."
"All I want to do is see Hector 'in the flesh' and know he is alright. You said yourself we have plenty of time before Ke'ala Alaka'i's flight comes in."
"I did have some more errands to run."
Seeing right through Salv, Patrick says, "I think Hector is more important than your 'fuckin' machine'!"
Salv didn't weigh whether Patrick was right or wrong, him knowing he was right. "Now what?" he asks, sitting there at the side of the country lane.
"Turn around and go back."
"And then what?"
Patrick devises, "While you are having your coffee, bacon and eggs at the counter, keeping Dom busy, I'll pretend I have to go to the jon and snoop around."
"And what happens if you get caught?"
"I kind of think Dom is the type of person who takes the law into his own hands, so don't allow that to happen Salv?"
He made a U across the double line, headed back in the direction they came. Five minutes later they were parked in front of the café. They were the only vehicle, which meant the only customers.
"And what if you are wrong?"
"I'll feel very relieved," Patrick told Salv as they exited the jeep.
Entering, Dom wasn't immediately available. When he finally entered he again greeted them like it was the first time. "I see you decided to change your mind!"
Patrick was amazed Salv not only played along, but helped things progress, "I was kind of hungry and Patrick need to use the jon."
"It's right back there," Dom says.
Putting on an act, Patrick gleefully replies, "Thanks!" Watching over his shoulder, Patrick waits till Salv starts talking up a storm, then slowly opens the kitchen door, enters and softly closes it. Nothing is happening in the kitchen so he walks towards the door they saw Dom exit from. He slowly opens it. After listening, hearing sounds which gave him inclination something indeed foul was in progress the last time the basement door opened, Patrick put his feet to the wooden stairs.
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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.....