Disclaimer: The following story is a work of fiction. If you are offended by descriptions of homosexual acts or man/man relations, please exit this page.
TALES FROM THE RANCH Copyrightc 2002 by Tulsa Driller 7. All rights reserved.
This is a story of men who have two common interests. You will see that they love the land where they live and work, but it is also the story of young men who love other men and their coming of age in a culture of prejudice and misunderstanding. It is a story, which deals with difficult and often disturbing issues but, nonetheless, issues which must be confronted in today's world.
This is a work of fiction and in no way draws on the lives of any specific person or persons. Any similarity to actual persons or events is entirely coincidental. This work is copyrightedc by the author and may not be reproduced in any form without the specific written permission of the author. It is assigned to the Nifty Archives under the terms of their submission agreement but it may not be copied or archived on any other site without the written permission of the author.
PLEASE: In a perfect world AIDS doesn't exist. My characters have unprotected sex. I hope you use proper precautions because I'd like you to be around the read the last chapter of this story.
Tales from the Ranch Chapter 8: Let's Try Your Place This Time
One of the men, Michael, who worked at the Bar-W and was somewhat the crew leader without being Dale's assistant. He had worked there since last February and was dependable. Pat and started in the spring and John had just begun working at the ranch the day before. Since it was somewhat hot that day, Michael was working without a shirt and John couldn't help but notice Michael's well-muscled chest and the thick black hair that covered it.
Neither of the other two young men knew that John was gay, nor did they realize that he had discreetly checked each of them out. The previous day Pat and Michael had been driving the hay balers and John was loading the new bales on a conveyer where their foreman, Dale, bucked them on up of the stack on the wagon. Since he was working behind them, they hadn't had a chance to really look him over, but liked what they saw.
Michael and Pat lived in a sorry-looking but clean facility that had been the Starlight Motel in an earlier life. John had moved into a room there the night before he started working with them.
Their rooms were clean and rented by the week or they got a 10% discount if they paid by the month. Rules were simple, no loud partying and no food in the room except whatever they could eat that meal. Their sheets were changed weekly, however, they did get clean towels everyday. That was great since they were usually filthy when going back to their rooms after a day like yesterday and today.
Michael had known he was gay when in high school. Well, he really didn't know he was gay. He just liked to look at other boys in the shower. There were a couple of fellows in his class who would jackoff with him from time to time, but they never touched each other.
Pat knew he wasn't attracted to girls. He had gone out with a couple when in high school and it was almost a disaster. Rather than admit that they couldn't get Pat turned on, they kept their mouths shut, much to his relief. It wasn't until after he found that he and Michael lived next to each other that he had a chance to find out exactly why he wasn't attracted to women.
He and Michael had gone to the movies together on Friday night of the first week he lived at the Starlight. After the movie they went out for pizza and Michael ordered a pitcher of beer. Pat was not 21, but the waitress didn't bother to check his ID. Neither he or Michael were used to drinking and the alcohol was more than either could tolerate. The meal of pizza helped some, but they both had a pretty good buzz when the left the place. They were in Michael's car and carefully made their way back to the motel. Each went to his own room. Pat took off his clothes and got in bed, but immediately the room started spinning and he got sick. He couldn't make it to the bathroom in time and his bed was in pretty bad condition. He cleaned up the mess the best he could, his stomach still reeling, and dumped the sheets in the bathtub, then filled it with water. He wasn't in very good shape and wearing only his boxers, he went to the next room and knocked on Michael's door.
"Can I crash in your room with you? I lost my stomach and had to put my sheets in my bathtub."
Michael let Pat in and suggested that he take a shower before trying to sleep. "It will make you feel better," he said.
At that point in time Pat would have consented to anything to get to feeling better. He went back to his room to get his towel and decided that he should brush his teeth, too.
Back in Michael's room, he stripped off his boxers in the bathroom, not bothering to shut the door, crawled in the shower and cleaned himself up. In the meantime, Michael was sitting where he could see into the bathroom and liked what he saw. Pat Burns was 19 years old, had completed a year of junior college and decided to drop out for a year, either to save some money or decide what he wanted to do with his life. He was about 5'10", muscular, probably weighed about 185, blond hair, blue eyes. His body hair was a darker brown and he was a cut 6-inches. Michael liked what he saw and liked the fact that Pat had asked to sleep in his room that night.
Michael Russo was 21, 6' tall, a very muscular 200 pounds, brown eyes and lots of black hair all over his body. He had a 62" un-cut cock, his family having been patients of old Doc Hatfield.
Pat finished his shower and in his state didn't think about the bathroom door being open, giving Michael a good view of himself. He dried off, hung his towel over the shower rod and stepped back into his boxer shorts. Pat came back into the bedroom area.
"Thanks for suggesting a shower. I feel a lot better, but I need to crash."
"Yeah, me too. If it's okay, you take that side of the bed."
They crawled in and each pulled up the sheet, told the other good night and drifted off to sleep quickly.
Sometime later, Michael realized that it was time to "pay the rent" on the beer and got out of bed to go to the bathroom. There was a light in the parking lot that provided some light to the room. His task accomplished, he went back to bed and crawled in. His movement must have brought Pat to some awareness, because as he settled back in the bed with his back toward Pat, he felt him scoot in behind him and Pat's leg push between his. Pat also pushed his arm under Michael's and wrapped his arm around his chest.
That got Michael's attention - quickly. 'Was this deliberate or did Pat not realize that he was in bed with another man?' Not that Michael was complaining... he wanted this, 'but what was going on?'
He wiggled himself tighter against Pat. Pat was more asleep than awake and was simply aware that he was snuggled against a warm body. His senses were still somewhat dulled and although he wasn't really sick anymore, he didn't feel real good either. Pat slept on, feeling cozy and warm.
Michael, on the other hand, was fully awake and his senses were ringing alarms in his head. He was in bed with a sexy- looking hunk that was curled up as close as he could get. But, was Pat doing this deliberately or was this because he was asleep? He didn't know how long they lay in this position before he dozed off, feeling really good.
Sometime toward morning, it was Pat's turn to have to pee. He awoke suddenly, his chest against Michael's back and his arm and leg wrapped between Michael's arm and leg. 'What was going on?' He extracted himself carefully and made his trip to the bathroom.
Pat's movements and getting off the bed made Michael more aware of his surroundings and that Pat had left the bed. He stretched and settled back into his pillow. He didn't have to get up to go to work this morning and he had a headache anyway. Sleep returned quickly.
As Pat was peeing, he realized that he had been pressed up against Michael. It had felt good. He was feeling better now, but still wanted something... someone to cuddle against. He finished and flushed the toilet.
Getting back in the bed, he was still somewhat 'out of it' and without really thinking, worked himself into the same position as they had been sleeping.
About two hours later, Michael started to awaken. He had a hardon. Then he realized that Pat was pressed against his back and his arm and leg were intertwined with his. He stretched and realized that Pat's cock was hard and pressing against his butt - on the right cheek. 'HHmmm, what do I do about this?' he wondered.
He lay there quietly for another 10 minutes. Then he had an idea. If Pat got pissed off, too bad... he was the one that wanted to sleep here. He carefully took Pat's right hand from his chest and moved it lower, wrapping the fingers around his cock.
'Ohmmm, that felt good." He held Pat's fingers in place. At the same time, he pushed himself back against Pat's cock, which slid up his cheek. This felt sooo good.
Pat slowly awoke and became aware of his surroundings. 'UuNnnOo, he had a hardon and his right hand and fingers were wrapped around Michael's cock. His chest was touching Michael's back. What should he do?'
The uncontrollable urge to stretch overcame him. He hugged Michael a little tighter and stretched his body, poking Michael's butt cheek a little harder.
Michael was thinking, 'This feels really good and he's waking up.' Determined not to let this moment pass without doing something about it, he broke loose, turned to where he was laying face-to-face, front-to-front with Pat. His mouth found Pat's and he rammed his tongue past his lips.
Pat immediately wanted to break loose, but Michael's hand had found the back of Pat's head so he couldn't move back. Pat wasn't sure this should happen, but it felt good and maybe in the back of his mind, he wanted this to happen. His ability to resist this... if he really wanted to... dissolved at once.
Their arms found their way around the other, their tongues were in each other's mouths and their cocks were dueling for supremacy... or maybe they were just rubbing on each other. 'This felt so good,' they both thought.
About that time both their eyelids opened and they looked into each other's eyes. There was no sign of fear, this being something they wanted to happen. They kissed with more urgency, rubbing their bodies against the other.
Pat enjoyed the feeling of his lightly furred chest rubbing against Michael's hairier one. It felt soo good to rub their cocks against each other. They continued exploring the other's mouth. They were fully awake now; knowing what they were doing and they both wanted more.
Neither had any experience in man-to-man sex and the only thing they wanted was release. Their hands found the others cock and between masturbating each other and humping against the other, they both quickly reached the most violent, good-feeling orgasm they had ever experienced.
Breathless, they lay in each other's arms allowing their breathing to return to normal. Michael thought, 'So this is what I've been missing. I hope Pat enjoyed it, too'
Pat was thinking a similar thought. 'That was wonderful. I hope Michael isn't mad and we can do this again.
They lay entwined in each other, cum all over themselves and the bed. Neither wanted this to end, but it had to.
Finally, Michael said, "Are you mad at me... because this happened?"
Pat hesitated. He wasn't unhappy, he was elated. "No, I've wanted to do something like this for a long time... it was great... and I want to do it again, too."
They each had thoughts of relief. 'It was okay. They wanted to do this again.'
Not sure what one expected of the other, they finally decided that they had better get up and take a shower. Michael asked Pat if he was hungry and he was.
"Let's get cleaned up and get something to eat. We need to wash your bedding and mine, too. They are messy... for different reasons." Pat agreed. He went through the shower first while Michael shaved. Then they traded. After they were dry, Pat realized that he was going to have to go next door to his room to get clothes.
He debated about putting his boxers on, and then just wrapped the towel around him. His room smelled of stale beer and vomit so he opened both windows to allow some air into the room. He quickly got dressed, then swished the dirty sheets around in the bathtub, drained the water and tried to squeeze out as much water as he could. They could ask at the office for clean sheets, but they would be charged an extra $3 each. Pat didn't want to admit that he had gotten sick from drinking beer and also didn't think that they wanted the manager to know about the cum- stained sheets. It was easier to take them to the laundry and clean up after themselves.
About that time Michael appeared at Pat's door. He was fully dressed in Levis and a t-shirt with boots. "Are you ready to go eat?" he asked.
"Yeah, let me get something to put the wet sheets in." He finally decided to take the mattress pad, which was also soiled and wrap the sheets in them. Michael went back to his room to get the sheets off his bed and decided his pad should be washed, too.
They got in Michael's car and drove to the automatic laundry down the street, where they usually washed their clothes. They each had soap and change with them. No one was using the laundromat this time of the morning, so they didn't feel rushed. They started the machines then walked across the street to the Pancake House for breakfast.
After they got a pot of coffee and gave the waitress their order, an awkward silence set in.
Finally Michael decided to break the silence. "Hey guy, I hope what we did was okay with you. I mean. that it didn't freak you out." He was having second thoughts.
"No, I've been wanting something like this to happen, I didn't know how to go about it. I'm glad you wanted to do it, too."
They both felt better, although they ate their breakfast pretty much in silence, each of them thinking about what they had experienced.
Breakfast was over and they walked back across the street and put the sheets and pads in the dryers. Still more silence. They both wanted to talk about this, but didn't know where to begin. Finally the laundry was dry. Pat asked Michael if he had any room freshener. He didn't, so they stopped at the grocery store and Pat ran in to buy something with a citrus smell. 'Better than nothing... better than some,' he thought.
They each had other dirty laundry, but the problem with the sheets had kept them from thinking about clothes they needed to wash. They could each get by for another couple of days, anyway.
Each wanted to have the experience again that they'd had that morning, but weren't sure how to communicate that fact to the other. They went to a movie that afternoon and sat toward the back. The theatre wasn't crowded and no one was sitting at all close to them. Tentatively they found each other's hand and held it during the movie. This was something new. Although they wanted it, they had no guidance as to how they should proceed.
They slept in their own rooms that night, each wanting to be with the other, but not willing to ask or admit it.
Sunday afternoon they discovered that a room with two double beds was being vacated. The company the men worked for was transferring them. Pat found this out by accident and asked Al, the manager, what the rent was for that room. He found out that there was a refrigerator, with a small sink, counter and microwave in the room and it was $5 a week less than they were paying together for two rooms and was a lot larger. Pat told Al to hold the room until he got back in a few minutes.
He fairly ran to Michael's room and knocked on the door. Michael was wearing only his boxers and although not hard, was showing something in his shorts. Pat told him about the room and asked if he wanted to share it. When Michael found out about the refrigerator, he agreed. They could save even more by being able to fix their own lunches instead of buying them at the deli or convenience store. It was a good deal.
Pat went back to the office to tell Al that they would take it and wanted to know how soon they could move their belongings. Al asked that they give him two hours to vacuum, clean the bathroom and change the beds. That was fine. While Al was cleaning the room, they went to the grocery to buy some snacks, sodas and things they would need to fix their lunches. They were both thinking what a good deal they had fallen into - and were also thinking about the possibilities this opened for more sexual experimentation.
Thinking that they were the only two "queer" people in town, they kept to themselves with their secret. There was nobody to talk to who could give them guidance and they didn't know you could actually find books or magazines that were directed to an audience of homosexual males.
During the summer, they became more than best friends, but couldn't call themselves lovers.
Dale looked at his watch about two hours later and saw that it was 6:50. Time to think about quitting for the day. They had filled three big flatbed trailers with hay today and it would probably take one more load to get all the bales. Having five people working made the day go smoother and more quickly. He got Al's attention, making a slash across this throat to indicate he should shut his equipment down.
Pat and Michael were both headed toward the wagon. Dale waved his arm, getting their attention and made the same sign. Both went to the end of the row, turned their balers around and killed the engines. They climbed down off their seats.
As they approached Dale, he asked if they wanted to work all night. Both smiled and shook their heads. By this time, all the guys were standing together. Dale looked at John and asked him, "Did we wear you out today?"
John smiled. "I think I had one of the easier jobs today. All I had to do was start the bales up the belt. You were the one that did all the hard work, bucking bales up on top."
Dale said, "Well, I'm used to it and it keeps me in shape. Since Mort made me foreman, I spend more time chasing paperwork and ordering supplies than working with you guys."
"Al, thanks for your help today. You'll be back in the morning, won't you?"
"Yeah, that was our agreement, two days this week." He paused, "Wasn't it?"
"That's right. Tomorrow I'll look at the scheduled work but I think we can use your help at least two days next week, too."
Without saying anything more, the five men started toward the pickup for the trip back to the ranch buildings.
Dale drove home in less than 10 minutes. At this time of the evening there was little traffic on the streets. He was hot, dirty, sweaty, tired and sore. Then he remembered that he was going to Craig's apartment to spend the night. Suddenly he perked up. He hadn't had time to think about that all day. Too much work to do and four other men to keep track of had kept his thoughts occupied.
He started thinking about what he needed to take with him. Work clothes for tomorrow. Maybe he should take something a little dressier in case Craig would let him take them out for a bite to eat. Oh yeah, he needed a toilet kit, shave cream, razor, maybe some cologne, definitely deodorant. A comb, toothpaste, probably some extra razor bladesY
Pulling into his driveway, he got out of the car and walked up the steps. Opening the flap on the mailbox, he took out three envelopes. He glanced at them. Telephone bill, advertisement from J.C. Penney's and pizza coupons. 'So much for winning the lottery,' he thought.
As he walked in the house he realized he hadn't turned the window air conditioners off before going to work. It was nice coming home to a cool house. He didn't think he should afford to let them run all day when nobody was here. He wondered if the new crew quarters at the ranch would be air-conditioned. That would be nice, but would Marty spring for that expense, too? He might. The Williamson's did a lot to take care of their employees.
He walked into the bedroom, sat on the end of the bed to take his boots off. That felt good just to get them off. His feet were hot from being confined. He stood up, unbuttoned the fly on his Levis, and dropped them to the floor with his jockey shorts following. He stepped out of them and scratched his nuts. Without thinking, he brought his fingers to his nose and sniffed. 'Sweaty, didn't smell bad.' He tasted himself. 'Not bad, he'd always wondered how he tasted. Again. not bad. Hmmm, he'd read that some guys got off on the smell of other guys' sweat. Would Craig like that? There might be a chance to find outY someday, if he was lucky.'
He pulled his shirt off, then standing on one foot, then the other, removed his damp socks. He gathered everything up and took them to the laundry basket next to the washer in the corner of the kitchen.
He checked the Levis in the dryer again to make sure they were dry. 'Might as well give them another 5 minutes to make sure. That'd get rid of the wrinklesY not that it made any difference.'
Heading toward the bathroom, he realized he'd promised to call Craig when he got home. A detour to the bedroom, he picked up the card Craig had given him yesterday morning. He punched in the numbers for Craig's apartment.
RingY ringY "Hello?"
"Craig? It's Dale."
"I was just thinking about you, wondering if you were home yet."
"Yeah, I'm just getting ready to crawl in the shower."
"Wish I was there with you, or that I could be your washrag."
"Oh, and what would you do if you were my washrag?" Dale giggled.
"I'd try to get in all the nooks and cranniesY and orificesY tee hee," laughing.
"You're gonna cause me a problem. I'm gettin' hard just thinking about it."
"Wish your shower was big enough for both of us. I'd suggest that you come over here to take your shower, but know you want to wash all the dirt away and put on clean clothes. We can try out my big shower in the morning. Okay?"
"Okay."
"How soon will you be here? I can't wait."
"UhmmnnY (thinking) probably about a half hour. I've got to go through the shower, then gather up what I need to bring with me. I want to see you, too, so as soon as I can get ready and drive over there."
"Well, if we stay on the phone discussing this any longer, it'll make you late. I want you here in person, not a voice on the phone."
"Okay. I'll get there as fast as I can and not get a speeding ticketY" (laughter)
"You got it. In a few. Bye."
"Bye, Craig." With that he hung up. All of a sudden he felt really good.
Dale went to his bathroom, pulled the shower curtain shut and turned on the water so it could warm up. He adjusted the temperature, then crawled in. The extra warm water felt wonderful. He'd like to stand here until the hot water ran out. 'What was he thinking? He'd rather be at Craig's place and in his arms.'
Coming back to reality, he washed his hair, rinsed, and then washed it again. Before rinsing again, he made sure he was wet all over, picked up the soap bar and lathered himself from his hairline, around his neck and to his toes. 'God, that felt good.' Without opening his eyes, he retracted his foreskin and washed his cock, then under the rim of this glans, rubbing his finger around the inside of the foreskin. That made his cock twitch. 'Down, guy. You're gonna get your turn a little later.'
He picked up the washcloth and thought of Craig's remark. 'Hope you like this, Craig,' he thought as he rubbed the cloth up and down his ass crack. Another twitch in his cock. He rinsed himself thoroughly, turned off the water and proceeded to strip the excess water off his body with the washcloth. He pulled the curtain back, then took his towel off the hook and started to dry himself completely.
Stepping out of the enclosure, he finished drying his feet, then moved to the basin. He looked in the mirror and decided that maybe a quick shave was in order. His skin had dehydrated and made it appear that he had a lot more than a 'five o'clock shadow' so soaped his face again, applied lather and with a few deft strokes was smooth. He didn't touch the new mustache and was amazed that after only two days he could see it and certainly could feel it.
Dale brushed his teeth, applied deodorant and his good Paul Sebastian Cologne. Back to the bedroom, where he pulled out brown socks, a pair of silk boxers (wondering how long he would actually be wearing themY he hoped not long) and a clean handkerchief. He sat on the end of the bed to pull on the socks, then stood up to pull the boxers on. He was wondering what to wear and decided on a light peach polo shirt and a pair of chinos. Pulling those on, he stepped into his brown loafers, filled his pockets with his billfold and change, put on his wristwatch, then put the clean handkerchief in his left rear pocket.
He realized that he didn't have a case in which to put the clothes he would wear to work tomorrow. Probably wouldn't look good to the neighbors, anyway. 'Grocery sacks,' he thought. Make it look like he was carrying in groceries.'
He got a plastic sack for his toilet kit, going to the bathroom and emptying the shelves of the things he needed. All that was left was boots, socks, briefs, Levis and a long-sleeve shirt for tomorrow. Better throw in another handkerchief and bandanna. That should do it. He picked up a paper grocery sack and stuffed it full.
He was ready. He turned off the air conditioner in the bedroom, walked to the living room and did the same. Dale looked around. He didn't think he'd forgotten anything.
Okay. Off to Craig's. He was as excited as last night when he was waiting for Craig to get to his house.
He locked the living room door as he left the house and dumped his two sacks behind the drivers seat. Starting the car, he backed down the driveway, dropped the car in gear and drove to the highway, heading the opposite direction from the ranch. Dale knew the building where Craig lived. The Carriage House was a new complex and very up-scale.
Craig arrived at his condo that morning about 10 minutes after leaving Dale's house. He took the elevator to the 5th floor and let himself into his unit. He would have to hurry, but he could still make it to his office for the 8 o'clock appointment he and Don had with a new client.
It didn't take him long to strip off his clothes and head to his huge bathroom. He brushed his teeth again, then washed his face and shaved quickly. He then stepped into the shower, turned on one showerhead (there were four) and quickly showered. It didn't take him long to dry himself, groom his hair and apply deodorant and "Aramis '900' Cologne". He opened two dresser drawers, pulling out silk boxers and black crew socks. Quickly pulling those on, he pulled a blue-oxford cloth shirt out of the closet and stepped into a pair of beltless gray slacks. He pulled a gray and red tie out of his tie drawer, wrapped it around his neck and quickly tied a Windsor knot. Picking up a pen and pencil, his change, billfold and putting on a tie clip, then buttoning down the collar tips, he was ready. He put his wristwatch on his left wrist and the onyx ring on his right hand.
He'd already had coffee and there was time to pick up some rolls on the way to the office. The three of them could enjoy them with coffee at their meeting.
Craig locked the condo and took the elevator back to the ground floor. His cleaning lady would be there today to change his bedding and do the little bit of laundry he required. He sent his dress shirts to the laundry.
Getting in his car, he drove out of the parking lot and stopped at Winchell's Donut Shop to pick up an assortment of donuts. He pulled into his office parking lot at 7:55. Not bad. Forty minutes from leaving Dale's house. AndY thinking about Dale, he knew he would be getting ready to start in the hayfield about now. Woof! Woof!!
As Craig went in the office door, a white Cadillac Sedan parked next to Craig's car. Don had coffee ready and Craig put his donuts on a plate. Warren Collins walked into the office as they headed to their conference room.
The meeting went well. Mr. Collins wanted to build a "strip center" on 10 acres he owned between downtown and the building where Craig and Don had their office. He presented some ideas and told them he had tentative agreements with three business concerns that might locate there.
They agreed to go measure the lot and talk to the zoning authority to see what would be allowed in the way of a business, and then check to see what easements and other restrictions might be involved. That would tell them exactly where buildings had to be located, etc. This would determine the size of the buildings and how they would fit on the lot.
Warren was a personable person and the meeting was easy. They shared coffee and donuts while visiting about his other business enterprises. Turns out that he was a developer and had not been at all happy with the architectural firm he had been using. Don and Craig had come highly recommended, by whom else? The Williamson's.
Don told Warren that he would have some preliminary information in a couple of days, then would want to get together with him and the potential leasers to determine their requirements.
Warren left and Craig patted Don on the back, giving him a shoulder squeeze and congratulated him. "Well, we don't have anything in the way of requirements yet. But, the recommendation from the Williamson's company doesn't hurt, either, does it?"
"No, but that really means that we have to work twice as hard. The Williamson's are easy to please and can help us, but we don't want any complains going back to them, either."
Craig said, "Point well taken, but things are moving well for usY extremely well." He grinned.
"My aren't we in a cheerful mood this morning. You're not usually a morning person and usually act like you want to sleep through an 8 a.m. meeting," Don kidded.
Craig turned a little red. "Well, I woke up earlier this morning, so I've had a chance to clear my head."
"Must have been pretty special to get you up earlyY" Then Don thought a minute. "Oh, did my pal Craggie get lucky last night? Was it that cowboy you were mooning over yesterday?"
Craig quickly replied. "He's not a cowboy, he's a foreman for the Bar-W."
"If he looks like a cowboyY dresses like a cowboy, walks like a Y"
"Don! His name is Dale and he's smart. He has a brain and good taste."
"Yeah, he wouldn't need to have good taste to take up with you." Don was about to roll on the floor. He loved to tease Craig.
Don and Craig had known each other in high school, but had not been close friends. Then they ended up in the same architectural school and each needed help the other could provide. They became fast friends although Don was perfectly straight, having married and already had two children. Don knew about Craig, but also realized that he'd never been out with another guy the whole time they were in college. It didn't bother him, but he loved to tease Craig about the fact he was a handsome young man and couldn't attract either womenY or men. There was nothing but great respect for each other.
"So, how was he?" Don laughed.
"Absolutely incredible. I think I've fallen in love after just one date. He's coming to my house this evening."
"Well, that's great. It's about time you found someone to occupy your time instead of sitting at home reading every evening. SoY when do I get to meet him?"
"Just don't push it. He's nice, but shy. He doesn't have a very good opinion of himself. Came from a lousy home, was a good student, but his world is pretty narrow. And, Marty thinks the world of him. He encouraged me to get to know him better. AndY I intend to."
"Good luck. You deserve somebody nice. From what you told me, don't rush him."
"Thanks, Don. I appreciate your understanding. And, by the way, that house he owns is in pretty good shape. Try to see to it that he gets top dollar. It doesn't need as much fix-up as you thought. Dale's never had anything, and probably wouldn't know what to do with it if he had it, but there's no reason to cheat him. I think he's a diamond in the rough and I hope to draw him out and show him that life is a grand event."
"If anybody can do it, you can. You love life, but are just to shy to do anything about it yourself. I'm surprised you had the guts to chase this 'cowboy'," Don laughed.
"He's not aY"
"Cowboy, I know," Don said. "I was just trying to get your goat."
Craig hugged Don. "For a straight guy, you're okayY most of the time," Craig laughed.
The day progressed quickly and smoothly. Don and Craig each had several projects going and needed to consult with each other many times during the day. They were a good team. Don was great at thinking up ideas and Craig was the detail person. They had a good "CAD" program which made it easy to come up with designs, save them, and then do a "what if" twist for clients. It saved them a great deal of time and effort, plus no one else in town used a sophisticated program like that. Their business was growing and each envisioned having to hire an additional person in another year. They already had a part-time secretary/bookkeeper.
Don had a "junior membership" at the Lake Shore Country Club and Craig had guest privileges. Don was an avid golfer and Craig could play well enough to entertain clients when necessary. When his parents were in town to visit, he and his Dad spent the day knocking the ball around. His mother usually insisted on cooking, but Craig frequently took them there for dinner.
All of a sudden it was lunchtime. Craig wanted the evening to be special and rushed around from place to place gathering "supplies" he felt he needed to make the evening perfect. He just hoped Dale wasn't cowed by his efforts. So, he purchased a selection of cheeses and bought two bottles B a Merlot and a Riesling B of wine. He picked up some water biscuits and pickled mushrooms, two kinds of olives, a small container of Pate, and several other "cocktail hour" items from the gourmet store.
Then he got to wondering if he was overdoing it. He wanted to impress Dale, but he didn't want to overwhelm him, either. He didn't think Dale would be embarrassed. His bar was well stocked with good liquor and there was several kinds of beer in the bar refrigerator. He thought to himself, 'Please let this be right.'
The afternoon seemed to drag by, but still Craig had plenty to do. He finished up the sketches on the "crew quarters" for the ranch. Nothing fancy. Marty just wanted it to be well built and comfortable. While working, Craig had another thought.
He went to Don's office. "How soon are you going to try to get possession of Dale's house?
"I hadn't thought about it. I guess the sooner, the better, why?"
"Just doing some thinking. The new crew quarters at the ranch are probably 5 to six weeks away from being ready for occupancy." He grinned, "If you push for an early possession, Dale may not have a place to live."
"And what are you? Manager of housing for the indigent? Don laughed. Are you planning on offering him a place to live 'during construction and ever after'?" Don laughed heartily again.
Craig blushedY bright red. "Just wondered," he said as he retreated to his office.
His thoughts were all over the map that afternoon. He was hoping this would work out with Dale. He didn't want to push him, but he didn't want him to think he was disinterested, either. What to do?
Finally, it was 6:15. Don had left about 5:15 and Craig finished his project, but hadn't planned to stay that late. He was ready to go home. He retrieved the things he'd picked up at the gourmet shop at noon, and then remembered that he'd promised to fix lunch for Dale the next morning.
Not a problem. He wheeled into Best Food, which was about 3 blocks from his place. Grabbing a basket, he headed through the store to get some apples, cold cuts, bread, lettuce, cookies and as an after thought, potato chips. 'What if this wasn't right? No, he remembered what Dale had fixed that morning.' Craig had mayonnaise and mustard. He was set. 'Wait, what about cheese?' He remembered Dale had used sliced American cheese. 'Why not get that and some Swiss Cheese, too?' He headed to the cash registers.
After he got in his car and was heading home, he happened to think that he didn't know what they were going to do for dinner. They'd had pizza last night. Best pizza in town. He'd have to think about that. Would Dale feel like going out for dinner? Where could they go? Certainly nothing pretentious. Didn't want to scare Dale.
This was going to be the date from hell. Well, not the guy, but trying to make it a nice evening and keep Dale from being uncomfortable. He wished he had someone he could talk to about this. Shame on himself for not learning to cook. Dale could cook, at least he said so. Well, he'd have to think about this and play it by ear.
Craig arrived at his home, toting his sacks to the elevator, and pressed the button for the top floor. Getting off, he unlocked his front door and went into his condo. He knew his cleaning lady had been there as she always used a good-smelling furniture dusting spray. He put his things in the kitchen, shoving the white wine in the refrigerator and putting in the other things that needed to be chilled.
He went to his bedroom to shed his clothes and decided a shower was in order. But first he wanted to pick out his clothes for the evening. Like Dale, the night before, he had a hard time deciding on his "seduction suit".
While looking in the closet, he came up with an idea for dinner. There was a catering place that delivered. It was owned by a couple of lesbian friends who belonged to the Dignity Chapter he'd joined. Craig looked up the number, punched in the digits and the phone was answered on the first ring.
"Le Gourmet Catering," the voice said. Craig asked the
voice to identify herself. "This is Trisha," the lady
answered.
"Trisha, this is Craig Bastian. I've run into a last minute situation where I have a dinner guest and we don't want to go out to eat."
"Hi Craig. Let me ask some questions. Two of you, right?"
"Yes."
"Okay, what time are you wanting to eat?"
"Probably about 9 o'clock, no earlier, though," he responded.
"Do you want a large meal, or light dinner?"
"Well, it's two men and my guest has been out in the sun today, working really hard." He thought, 'That should give her something to think about.'
"Okay. I can suggest several things for an entree. We can do chicken breasts sauteed in butter and white wine and finished with a Balsamic/Tarragon Sauce. We can also do Beef Stroganoff with fresh noodles, or Butterfly Pork Chops in a tomato mushroom sauce with a rice pilaf. We would serve a tossed salad with any of the above and a grilled vegetable medley of carrots, zucchini, yellow squash, new potatoes and green beans. Dessert would be a choice of a fresh apple tart, carrot cake or a chocolate torte. We can deliver it about 9 o'clock and can either serve it for you or it will be in containers which can be micro waved when you are ready to eat."
"That's great. I'm sorry to put you on short notice."
"Not a problem, we're open until 10 p.m. Monday thru Saturday. "
"Ok, how many pork chops will you serve?"
"We can fix what you need.
"Okay, let's go with the pork chops and why don't you fix a total of four. Oil and vinegar dressing on the salad and the carrot cake for the dessert."
"Great, Craig. No problem. I'll probably bring this over myself. What's your address?
Craig gave her the street number and told her it was the unit to the left as she stepped off the elevator.
"Oh, one more thing. Do you want to put this on a credit card or pay for it when I make the delivery?"
Craig said, "Credit card and gave her his Master Card number."
"Thanks for the business, Craig. Glad we can help you out."
Craig hung up the phone, greatly relieved that he had solved the menu problem. He went to the kitchen to set out salad plates and dinner plates, got out silverware and napkins for the table. There was a table for four in the dining alcove. There were four candles in Waterford holders and he rearranged them, then put out place mats, wine glasses and the napkins and silver. He pulled a bottle of Pinot Noir out of the wine rack and took it to the kitchen to open later.
Looking at the table, he hugged himself and thought, 'this will be fine. Not too fancy, but nice.' He was thankful that his mother had gone with him to help pick out nice table accessories.
He glanced at his watch. It was 7:15. Dale should be home.
Craig was back in the bedroom, shedding his clothes when the phone rang. His heart leaped a couple of times. He calmed himself and said, "Hello."
"Craig, it's Dale," he heard.
They talked for a couple of minutes then both hung up. Dale was going to take a shower, too. Craig wished they could help each other, but there would be another timeY he hopedY he would see to it.
Craig brushed his teeth, and then headed for the shower. This wouldn't take very long, but he decided to wash his hair and thoroughly soaped himself up. He had two shower nozzles turned on and the hot water felt good to him. It washed the 'cares of the day' away.
His shower finished, he opened the door, reaching for his towel and quickly dried himself. He toweled his hair, hung up the towel and took his hair dryer out of its holder. It didn't take long to dry and style his short hair. A little hair spray and that was complete. He got out his deodorant stick, applying it to his pits. He started to open some cologne, but rubbed his face first. 'Might not hurt to shave,' he thought. His beard looked heavier than it was. He just simply had darker facial hair than the little hair elsewhere on his body. He soaped and lathered his face and was through in two minutes. Rinsing the razor, he put it in the drawer with his toothpaste and comb. Again, he rinsed his face with hot water, using a washcloth. He dried his face and reached for a bottle of Polo Cologne. Splashing it on sparingly, he rubbed the excess over his chest and upper arms.
He walked back to his bedroom and picked a pair of silk boxers and camel color socks to put on, sitting on the end of the bed to do so. He stood and pulled up the shorts and walked to his closet. He decided on a pair of dark tan Dockers and a light green cashmere vee-neck pullover to go with it. It was low cut and tight. He wore it on the outside of his pants, remembering the difficulty of removing his shirt the night before. He smiled as he thought about it. 'Clothes will full-length zippers would be ideal.'
He glanced at the clock on the dresser. 7:45. Okay, time to get out the cheese and arrange a plate of snacks. He opened packages and arranged the various hors d'oeuvres on a glass tray, then carried it in to the living room, placing it on a glass- topped coffee table.
Dale should be here in a little bit. He walked into the kitchen, opened the dinner wine to breathe, and then looked down toward the parking lot. Dale's old Mustang was just pulling into the place next to Craig's car.
Dale got out of his car and Craig thought he looked "mighty fine" as he bent over to get two sacks out from behind the seat. Craig hurriedly put the food wrappers in the trash, and then stepped to the front entry to wait.
He heard the elevator stop and the doors opened. Without waiting for a knock, he opened the front door to admit Dale. Pulling him into the front hall, he shut the door and turned to kiss Dale.
"Hi, Guy. I've missed you today."
"I've missed you, too. It's been a long twelve hours," said Craig.
They kissed again, then Craig said, "Let me show you where to put your clothes and things."
Dale followed Craig to his bedroom, admiring the apartment unit. "This place is something else. I knew it was here, but have never known anyone who lived here. How long have you been here," he asked.
Craig answered, "About three years. I was the second tenant to move in when it was completed. Then he asked, "Do you have anything that needs to be hung up?"
"No, my bathroom stuff is in here," handing Craig a plastic shopping bag. "And all that's in here is clothes for tomorrow morning," holding up the paper sack.
"I'll put this stuff in the bathroom and you can put your sack on the chair next to the dresser," Craig told him.
Suddenly, Dale felt inadequate and unworthy to be in such a posh condo. He wondered if he should be here.
Craig came back from the bathroom as Dale turned around, walking up to him and pulling him close. "I'm glad you're here. I've thought about you all day."
Dale hugged Craig and gave him a big sloppy kiss, which was returned. He felt better. After all Craig had invited him to be here.
"Lets go to the bar and I'll fix us drinks, okay?"
"Sure is, I'm ready for something wet and cold."
"I was prepared to give you something wet and hot, but it's your choice," laughed Craig.
Craig went to the bar between the living and dining rooms, asking Dale what he wanted to drink. Dale looked a little flustered, so Craig said, "I'm going to have scotch and soda with a twist of lemon."
Dale was a little confused, as he'd expected to be offered beer. "I've never tried scotchY UhmmY Do you have any bourbon?"
"Sure. What do you want it mixed with?"
Dale thought a minute, then remembered someone in college talking about bourbon and Coke, but he didn't see any Coke bottles on the bar. He bit the bullet and told Craig, "I really don't know, I've never drank anything except beer." He looked a little sad.
Craig said, "I've got beer and that's no problem. I don't know your drinking habits and I'm not trying to force something on you that you might not want."
Dale said, "Why don't you fix me something you think I might like? I really don=t' know what to ask for."
"Okay, let's do this. I can fix you either a bourbon and Coke or bourbon and 7-Up. The Coke would be sweet, but the 7-Up would be still sweeter.
"Fix me the bourbon and Coke."
Craig put ice in the large glasses; pouring generous amounts of liquor, then mix into the glasses. He picked up a napkin and handed both to Craig, then picked up his own glass. "Cheers," he told Dale.
Dale raised his glass and repeated, "Cheers." He was hesitant about taking a sip, but brought the glass to his lips. "MmmnnY that's good. I didn't know what to expect. Could I have a sip of your drink after bit? To see if I like it?"
"Sure. A lot of people don't like scotch and I would rather drink it with club soda than water, if I have a choice. Some people say it's an acquired taste, like martinis."
"Truthfully, Craig, I'm really a novice drinker. I like beer, but don't drink all that much of it, either."
Craig walked to Dale, putting his arm around his waist and giving him a big squeeze. Dale's firm body didn't yield, but he bent his head around to give Craig another kiss.
"Let me show you the rest of my condo. He took Dale by the hand and walked him out of the living room down a short hall to the second bedroom. Dale followed him and looked at the queen bed and furniture, then followed Craig into the bathroom, which wasn't large, but very functional. It had a large, glass shower, stool and washbasin and there appeared to be a lot of storage for towels and other needs.
"This is nice."
Craig said, "I think my parents are the only people who have slept in this room since I moved in."
They moved back into the bedroom, then back down the hall to the entry. A half wall with the bar separated the living room from the dining alcove. The large functional kitchen with a Chambers gas range was right behind the dining area. A high counter with barstools separated the two areas.
"I thought you said you didn't cook?" Craig asked.
"I really don't."
"Then why the big stove?"
"Well, this is what one might call a 'gourmet kitchen'. People who are really into cooking like to have appliances like this. I guess for them, it's a status symbol. To me, it's something that might make the apartment easier to sell when I decide to move."
Dale was somewhat surprised at that statement and a little apprehensive. "You are planning to move?"
"Not right away. I'd like to have a small house to live in eventually, but not until I can afford to hire someone to do yard work and maintenance for me."
"Do you own this apartment or rent it?"
"I own it. The Williamson Company built the building on spec, and then sold the empty units when it was completed. Since I was the first owner of this unit, I was able to put in walls and do the interior design to suit myself. It's kind of a combination of modern and Frank Lloyd Wright."
Dale had heard of Frank Lloyd Wright, and said, "He's the guy who designed all the houses that were way ahead of their time, wasn't he?"
"Yes. Come on in the living room. Let's get comfortable and there are some snacks that I set out for us. They went to the living room and both sat on the love seat close to the coffee table.
Craig said, "I ordered dinner for us from Le Gourmet Catering. They are supposed to deliver it and serve us about 9 o'clock."
"That's really nice of you. We could have ordered something simple in, or picked it up."
Craig said, "I did order something pretty good in. I didn't have much lunch today and if you only had a couple or sandwiches, pie and fruit for lunch, I'm sure you are starved, too. This is just better than average 'order in food'."
"Whatever you did is fine with me," Dale said, leaning his head on Craig's shoulder.
Dale knew that Craig wasn't trying to show off, but the furniture and wall hangings, drapes, carpets, everything was so much better than Dale had seen except for pictures in magazines or the nice furniture stores. This would take some getting used to. By the same token, he wondered if Craig was comfortable at his houseY when they weren't in bed.
The snacks Craig had prepared were excellent. Dale realized that he was really hungry and that it was a couple of hours later than he usually ate. His drink was almost empty and he noticed that Craig's was, too.
Craig cut a small wedge of cheese, placed it on a biscuit, then moved his hand to Dale's mouth.
"Trying to seduce me?" he giggled.
"No," Craig responded. "I use either grapes or chocolate covered fruit for that." They both laughed. 'Good, Dale was starting to loosen up.' He noticed that Dale's glass was about empty, then drained his own. "Are you ready for a refill?"
"Yes," that hit the spot and I can feel the alcohol a little bit. You're not gonna get me drunk and take advantage of me, are ya mister?" Dale said in his best "little boy" voice.
They both laughed.
"How much booze does it take to seduce a big stud like you?" Craig teased.
Again in a teeny voice, "I don't know, but I'm willing to find out." They both roared with laughter.
Craig handed Dale a fresh drink. "You have a great sense of humor and I love to hear you laugh. Your laughter, wonderful smile and dancing eyes make my heart beat faster when I look at you."
Dale was a little embarrassed. He thought carefully before speaking. "Craig, we've only known each other for a little more than a day and I just feel so comfortable around you. It's weird, but it's almost like we've always known each other. You make me feel good about myself and I think you like me, too."
"I do, and not just because you are beautiful on the outside. God knows, you are a sexy hunk in my book, but you have an inner innocence and charm. I'd love to have the chance to explore the world with you. I know this is early to ask, but would you let me show you my world and you show me yours? I think we can teach each other lots."
Dale had tears in his eyes. He sat his glass down on the table, then took Craig's from him and sat it with the other one. He turned to Craig and they placed their arms around each other and just held on, like they were afraid the other was going to try to leave.
After what seemed to be a long time, Craig pulled back. He had tears in his eyes, as did Dale. "You complete my life. I've never really looked for anyone before and if you'll have me I won't have to look any further."
Dale started to speak. "I'm not deservingY" Craig pinched his lips shut.
"Sshh. I'm not going to listen to you saying that again. If there is anyone who isn't deserving, it's me, okay?"
"How can I possibly answer that?"
"Neither of us can, but I'll tell you what we can do. We can take this one-day at a time and we don't push each other. We have a lot to talk about and tell each other. A lot of talking to do."
"Craig, you really make me feel complete, too. I've never had anyone who I thought would look out for me, and here you are, my everything."
They leaned together for a very passionate kiss.
The doorbell rang.
Craig stood up. "Here's our meal, right on time."
To be continued * * * * * Author's Note: This is my first attempt at gay fiction, and the only way I can learn whether or not I should continue is from my readers' feedback. I would appreciate your comments, criticism, suggestions, and anything else that you would care to say. All Email will be answered. If you wish to receive e-mail notification of subsequent posting, please let me know by sending your request to the e-mail address below. Contact me at: tulsadriller7@aol.com
Thanks for the overwhelming response to previous chapters. I received positive replies from all over the world. My special thanks to RW, whom I've known for many years and value his suggestions. Also for the proofreading help of Paul Daventon, author of "Turning the Page" found in the "Adult-Friends" section of Nifty. Please read it.