Dooby Rhymes with Scooby

                                                                                        by Jamie Haze 

 

Chapter 14


After Auggie and Ryan left, Dooby asked if someone would take him home to
begin working on Tommy's summer kitchen after Cory disappeared into
Charlie's office to begin accepting phone calls from fans of their show.
Cory settled into his new father's desk chair and looked to Dooby like
he belonged in the office so he didn't ask for Cory's help even though
he would have enjoyed the company. He knew that close proximity would
have degenerated into an afternoon of poolside sex and nothing in the way
of carpentry would be accomplished. The next two days, Tuesday and
Wednesday, they were going to tape shows, hopefully one each day and
Thursday would again be spent in Charlie's office answering phones after
the show aired early in the morning.

Christian arrived home at the same time Tom and Cory pulled in at about
five-thirty. The three walked into the house to find the sound system
playing classical music set on a low volume. There were raised eyebrows,
shrugs and grins as they tiptoed to the open basement door. All three
frowned when they heard Dooby talking either to himself or to some
stranger. They didn't know Dooby talked to himself, but with the
irrepressible teenager anything was possible. The radial saw whined then
gradually quieted as it slowed. "See, when you make a cut you either
make it on the line or exactly to one side, whichever, you have to be
consistent throughout the project or you wind up with nothing fitting and
that means a very shitty job," Dooby explained to his mystery visitor.
He continued, "And at DuBois and Son, I'm the son by the way, we don't
do shitty work. I'm not the only son, I have an older brother Artie, but
he's majoring in archeology and I think minoring in how to sneak
artifacts through customs without getting caught. Actually Artie's a
good carpenter too, no one can be around our father for very long without
something sinking in." Dooby giggled at his joke but there was no other
laughter.

The three moved silently down the stairs and peeked around the door jam
into the shop. Dooby started the radial saw again which screened their
combined open laughter. He was cutting a board, his back was to them. He
was wearing his favorite old red nylon shorts and a Spelling logo
baseball cap turned backwards. The two small video cameras mounted on
their tripods Tom bought to tape the test show were his guests. He sensed
movement and turned slightly to grin at them before finishing the cut he
was making. All three went into laughing fits when he turned to display
the board after again shutting off the saw. The last item he was wearing
was a pair of swim goggles in lieu of safety glasses.

"Hi guys!" Dooby welcomed them with a laugh.

"What are you doing Doob', did you fall in love with yourself?" Tom
asked nodding at the cameras.

Dooby shut both off before he answered, "Nope just Cory," he colored
slightly, "and you guys too a little I guess when you aren't busting my
ass over some little thing." He studied the floor after the surprise
admission while the others looked at him and each other uncomfortably.

Tom nodded after a moment and put his arm over Christian's shoulders,
"Yeah, well I guess us too, we feel the same about you two guys
especially when you aren't wearing any of our clothes. So what's with
the cameras?"

"Before Ryan left he said to buy one so we could tape doing normal shit
around the house. I told him we had them already somewhere. He wants us
to send the full cassettes down to him by courier so they can maybe work
some of the footage into the reality show. I thought I'd sneak in some
advertising for Pop while I showed the world how something should be
built." Dooby checked his watch, "Hey dinner will be ready an hour
after someone turns on the oven."

Christian looked surprised, "Huh, did you cook something? The kitchen
looks like it did this morning when we left."

Dooby turned on his little boy hurt look, "What's that mean
motherfucker that if I cooked by myself the kitchen would be a mess? It
was a little messy but I cleaned up after I finished, is there anything
wrong with that?"

"Damn you don't need to cop an attitude, I was just asking. Did you
really cook or just defrost something?" Christian sniffed the air, "I
don't smell anything."

"DUH, that's because the stuffed pork chops aren't cooked yet fool,
just browned. One of the shows is pork chops; I found some in the
freezer. I like them the way Mom does them stuffed so that's how I did
them after a quick phone call." Dooby took a pencil from his hatband and
wrote a number on the board he held before he placed it with a stack
already cut and numbered. "Never mind helping me out or anything, I'll
just go turn on the oven myself. It's Bud and swim time anyway." He
pushed between Tom and Christian with a haughty superior look at
Christian, while he collared Cory with an arm at the doorway.

Tom and Christian looked at each other, "What just happened, did my
little cousin grow up all of a sudden?" Tom asked. Christian shrugged,
still smarting from Dooby's effective put down.

They found the oven on and the timer set when they got back upstairs to
the kitchen. Dooby and Cory were standing in the shallow end of the pool
holding each other, "Did you miss me like I missed you?" Dooby asked
while he nuzzled Cory's ear and then kissed him before he could answer.

"Yeah I did, I was on the phone and you just left without even saying
anything. Were you pissed at me? Dad said Tommy took you home so you
could work and then when Tommy came back I asked him, but you didn't
saying anything to him."

Dooby hugged his petite lover tighter, "Hell no I wasn't pissed, I was
going to ask you to come with me, but when I looked in the office you
were sitting at that big desk and you looked so at home there, you know,
so comfortable and in command, just like you will be someday. Have you
ever wondered like late at night what's going to happen to us? I have
and it scares me, I'm afraid you'll get too busy, too important for
me."

Cory looked up into a pair of glistening blue marbles, "Are you fucking
nuts? I'll never be too busy for you and you better never get too busy
for me either, and from now on if you leave like you did today without
even a wave or giving me the finger I'll find you and bust your silly
ass." He pulled Dooby's head down to his level to batter Dooby's
tonsils with his tongue.

"Wow!" Dooby panted, "Promise?" The lecher in him giggled, "That was
nice, but if you want to bust my ass by collapsing a lung how about using
your big beautiful cock and coming in from that direction?" His hand
moved underwater, his grin broadened.

"Come on we need to take a serious shower," Cory backed away and tried
to pull Dooby along with him.

"WE, meaning me, already took one just before you guys got home. I
decided you can be as busy as you want during the day but after work,
like now I plan to be irresistible." Dooby nodded toward the double
float on the deck that he already covered with beach towels. "You can
bust my silly ass right there." He looked down at Cory and then himself
as soon as they stood on the deck, "Shit I should've moved it closer,
but we can make it if we're careful and the first shot never counts
anyway."

Tom and Christian watched the passionate scene unfold from the great room
windows. Christian blinked when his view was temporarily blocked as Tom
pulled the shirt he was wearing over his head. His shorts dropped and he
stepped out of his boat shoes. He was at a disadvantage stripping Tom
because he was wearing a suit. Tom helped. Both naked, each was
distracted by the other's body and drooling erections.

"We should shower first or I should, but I hate to miss this,"
Christian moaned when Tom moved to stand behind him and pull him close.

"Yeah we should," Tom agreed, "but later. Let's join them now and
trade head jobs so we can watch."

Dooby pulled Cory down on his body. His legs were already spread and bent
at the knees. Cory resisted, "I want to get you off first."

Dooby reached and tugged with a euphoric smile, "I'll come when you
do." Cory's body followed his cock; all of him sank on and in Dooby.
They were distracted briefly by being shaded, Dooby looked up and Cory
twisted his head. Tom and Christian stood over them.

"Can we join you?" Tom asked hopefully, already sinking to his knees in
front of Christian. Christian's heroic perfectly sculpted teenage body
bowed back. His legs were spread for balance, muscles and veins in his
arms became defined in the sunlight and shadow of late afternoon when he
used his hands to control Tom's head.

"You already have, just stand there and do each other until Sprouts'
done. Man, you guys are so hot together, pure eye candy," Dooby hugged
Cory closer when he agreed with a breathless nod and intensified his
thrust rate. He was already plunging using his entire excited length.
Dooby his lover was the only one he no longer had to be concerned about
hurting.

Christian's head lolled on useless neck muscles but his eyes, nearly
closed, were fixed on Dooby and Cory. He emitted an animal sound when he
came. Steely arms held Tom's head ruthlessly close until he finished and
realized what he'd done; took his pleasure in his lover's throat
without regard to Tom's. He pulled Tom to his feet and held him up by
surrounding his body with his arms as he sank to his knees and then used
them to punish his own mouth and throat mercilessly by controlling Tom.

Dooby and Cory came together as Dooby promised. Cory recognized the signs
in Dooby's face and was ready. He began an athletic scramble. Dooby
allowed him the freedom needed; they'd practiced alone, not
intentionally, perhaps perfected would be a better word. Tom's eyes
widened, Christian, doing self-imposed penance wasn't watching. Cory
drew his knees up under his body until he was kneeling; half his
glistening cock was exposed in the lightening maneuver. As Tom watched
Cory was already using his hands to slide Dooby's cooperative butt up
his thighs until the monster disappeared again and Cory was firmly
reseated and still pumping cum. Cory bent over Dooby until his back was
curled. He lifted Dooby's spurting cock and took it in his mouth
ignoring for the moment the thick white ropy drops that began to move
down Dooby's smooth tanned chest toward his neck. The droplets moved
like juggernaut slugs that were capable of accelerating as they raced
each other to escape Cory's tongue. None survived.

Dooby kissed Cory searching. He giggled to free his lips, "Pig, you
already swallowed," he accused playfully, "we'll have to work on
that." Tom began making strangling sounds and bucking spastically. He
first thumped Christian's shoulders and when Christian responded by
holding him tighter, he pushed. Dooby saw Tom wince; Christian's teeth
were out. A few words returned him to earth, "Enough already Christian,
you can't be that hungry. Leave some of that candy for my pretty little
candy jar. Tonight I feel like getting it filled to overflowing before
anyone gets any back." He qualified his invitation, "Of course if
you're up to it." He went up one elbow after Cory pulled away with a
private wink to peer around Christian's hip, "Oh you ARE already! Come
to Dooby big guy."

###

Auggie slid his bulk into an appropriate size swivel lounge chair and
pointed Ryan at another close by, "Ain't this nice?" Trasker drove the
scooter down a hallway along one side of the jet.

"Yeah it is; what's in the back?"

"A couple o' bedrooms, bathrooms an' more settin' space," Auggie
shrugged, "This here lounge an' the closest johns' all I need but the
rest is there so as the tail o' this here aircraft can follow along
behind us." He handed the Red Cap a second folded bill when he walked by
for the last time, "You did right good boy, thanks." Ryan winced at
Auggie's use of `boy' to a black man. "If there's a way fo' yo' to
check arrivals in the future, yo' keep yo' eye out fo' Bligh Media
Group. That's us. If'n you're there when the door opens we'd be much
obliged an' treat yo' right fo' the service."

The porter was so delighted with his tip he forgot to leave and Trasker
resorted to herding him the rest of the way to the hatch then slammed it
on his continued round of thank yous. "You're going to get your ass in
a sling for calling black men boys," Ryan warned, "these days that's a
racial slur."

Auggie shrugged his indifference as he pointed Trasker to a seat next to
Ryan, "You boys is boys, everyone's a boy to me unless they is older
`an me or got more money `an me an' that don't happen of'en either
one." He studied Trasker while he fastened his seat belt, "Ain't you
a mite young to be my nephew? `Pears to me my brothers was too long in
the tooth to be makin' babies when you popped out not to mention my
sisters-in-law doin' the poppin'."

Trasker grinned, "I'm your great nephew Unc, your brother Sterling was
my granddad an' his son Haskell was my daddy, God rest both their
souls."

Auggie nodded after the genealogy update, "Okay I'm straight now. Say,
where you livin' on the place since your momma up an' passed too?"

"Still at home by myself." Ryan enjoyed listening to Trasker's softly
spoken southern lilt and wondered why he suddenly looked uncomfortable
when his uncle asked where he was living.

Auggie's eyebrows shot up before they sank to a frown, "Yo' still in
high school or you up an' quit?"

"No Sir, neither, I graduated this spring," Trasker answered with a
hint of defiance in his voice. When Auggie continued to frown, Trasker
went on the offensive, "So what if I just turned seventeen, I took
accelerated courses at the regional and I skipped a couple of years. I am
a high school graduate and I don't mind livin' alone, you pay pretty
good for what I do and I could do more if you tell me. I can manage. You
aren't gonna kick me outta your house are you?"

While Trasker talked Auggie's eyebrows reversed course, "O' course I
ain't kickin' yo' out o' your house. Its yours as long as yo' wants
to live there after you come o' age, mean time y'all just pack up your
duds an move up to the house. Say boy, what college you goin' to come
fall?"

"None Sir, I didn't apply to any."

"Why in Sam Hill not if'n you're bright enough, an' it surely appears
you are?"

Trasker shrugged noncommittally, changed his mind and blurted, "No one
in our whole family ever went to college. I'm happy or I would be if
you'd give me somethin' more to do than just step `an fetch."

Ryan grinned at seeing Auggie roll his eyes, "None ain't gone to
college `cause most was lucky if they got outta grammar school before
they took days off to vote, that there's why, when you popped, you must
`o bounced an' landed somewhat far from the shade o' the family
tree." Auggie turned a steely eye to Ryan, "That there's your first
job when we get home, you take Trasker an' you just get him into a
college o' his choice! Whatever it takes you do it. Meanwhile you
Trasker boy, you stick to Ryan like you was glued. He's learnin' my
brand o' business from me so as he can take over the job o' CEO in a
year or so, an' you plan on learnin' everything from him."

Ryan was stunned and looked it, "CEO, me? Since when and why, not just
because of my, ah, our benefit package?" he gasped.

Auggie grinned, "certainly not, although they's nice as is an' likely
to get some better, no son you got that back talkin' habit I told yo' I
liked, you're smart," he glanced at Trasker, "plus you got you a
COLLEGE EDUCATION! I know I ain't goin' to live forever an' just who
did yo' think I was goin' to leave all my hard work to? Before this
here boy finally owned up to havin' a brain an' all but demandin' to
use it, there was none in my family was gonna get it."

Trasker turned to Ryan, "Wow I'm goin' to college!" he giggled then
sobered, "Do you think that there's still time to apply for
scholarships?"

Auggie turned into a sputtering spastic, "Trasker boy, how can you be
smart and dumb to the same time? Didn't you just hear me tell Ryan to
get you in whatever it takes? What it's gonna take aside from your
brains, is cold hard cash, you're settin there a lookin' at your big
fat scholarship."

"REALLY? Gee thanks Unc, I'll sure pay you back after I graduate."

Auggie looked away, "No need son, an' by then you might be just payin'
your own self."

Trasker leaned forward wearing a serious expression, "You know Unc,
you'd probably live longer if you lost some weight."

Ryan burst into laughter, Auggie grinned and winked, "'Pears I heard
that somewhere before quite recent. Damn kids, give `em an inch an'
they gang up on ya an' put ya on a damn diet. Hey speakin' of lunch,
what're we havin' anyway?"

They landed in Atlanta. Trasker stopped talking and laughing long enough
to attend to his step and fetch it duties by driving Auggie's scooter
from the rear of the plane. Ryan did a double take. Trasker was sitting
in an oversized lounge chair that closely resembled the seats in the
aircraft. He answered Ryan's questioning look, "This one is Unc's at
home scooter, its wider with bigger wheels and tires and of course it has
a bigger power plant."

The forward hatch was opened from the outside. Ryan saw that mobile steps
had been driven up. "Just how are we supposed to get you and that
scooter down those?" he asked Auggie with a squeak in his voice.

Auggie and Trasker giggled together. "Don't you worry about little old
me gettin' down, you boys jus' go about your business." Auggie
answered while he made a tight u-turn to head toward the back of the
plane.

Trasker took Ryan's arm to tug him toward the forward hatch, "Come on,
y'all have got to see this from the ground." Ryan hurried because he
wanted the strong young hand to remain in contact with his skin as long
as possible. Trasker stopped suddenly halfway down the steps after
pointing aft. Ryan was looking in that direction and crashed into Trasker
when he stooped to look under the wing. Trasker saved them both by
grabbing the handrails and taking Ryan's weight on his back until Ryan
regained his feet. Ryan couldn't resist acting like a blind man by using
his hands to inspect Trasker's back for injuries. The only thing he
discovered was that Trasker was ticklish. They both stopped running in
the shade of the tail off to the side, out of the way of a ramp that
crept toward the concrete at a snail's pace from the belly of the big
jet.

"Sonofabitch, I should have known." Ryan rolled his eyes and laughed. A
dozen suited men rushed from the maintenance hanger and almost ran the
hundred yards to the foot of the ramp. They ran or perhaps were being
chased by a gleaming unadorned midnight blue Prevost RV bus that followed
them closely from the shade inside the huge building. "They must be the
ass kissers," he surmised aloud.

"Yup, right on. You'll discover Unc is a terror behind the wheel of
anythin' he drives. He calls this executive bowling, two guesses who the
pins are. He don't use the plane much so some of them, the ones
standin' to the side, are the ones who've played this game before, an'
the new guys, well they'll learn today where not to be in a second or
two." The sweating men jockeyed for position to be closest to the foot
of the ramp and thereby be the first to greet their grossly overweight
always mobile employer. The elegant bus parked perpendicular to the
jets' tail and the ramp fifty feet away and served as a barricade to
anyone who chose to escape in that direction. Double doors opened halfway
along the bus' length directly opposite the ramp, and a platform
extended out from the interior and then slowly descended to the tarmac.

Everyone heard Auggie's wordless rebel yell an instant before he
appeared, leaning down and forward so his eyes were just above the
scooter's handlebars as if he was using the steering column as a sight
and accurately targeting the hapless mob waiting to greet him. The men
began to scatter when he was two thirds of the way down the ramp, most
moved to the side, but two just began walking backward. One, more agile
than the other turned and ran while his partner tripped over his feet and
fell backward. Auggie braked just short of the scrambling man's feet.

"Sorry son," Auggie apologized with a grin, "y'all need to work on
that crab walk or stay to hell outten the way." He twisted around to
look for Ryan and waved him and Trasker over while the executives
regained their composure and clustered around the scooter. "This here is
Ryan Bronson a young hotshot I up an' hired away from a network. From
today he's my very own executive vice president in charge of," he
paused to think a moment, "in charge of whatever. I guess that would be
whatever I`m wantin' him to do. Y'all just consider his word as
comin' from me." Auggie waited until the men ordered themselves and
then shook Ryan's hand, three, the last three in line very reluctantly
with forced smiles and words of welcome. Trasker stood back and watched
the by play wearing a slight smile. Auggie rolled to nudge his foot with
the front wheel of his scooter, "An' this here young man is Trasker
Bligh, he ain't but a college boy but he'll be assistin' Ryan in
doin' whatever when he ain't hittin' the books. Y'all might'a caught
the last name, `nough said about that. Any `o you give these boys shit;
y'all best have your resumes up to date an' in the mail." Auggie
issued the warning while he looked directly at the three unhappy men. He
turned and drove to the waiting lift without looking back; everyone heard
his last words, "Feel free to use the company copy machines for them
resumes. We'll conference tomorrow as usual." He rose above them, the
platform retracted into the bus and the doors closed on his back with a
thunk.

Ryan looked at Trasker, "What do we do run along behind?"

"Hell no, we use the regular door. Come on unless you want to run."
Trasker ran and Ryan followed. The passenger door opened for them and
then slammed closed violently again while Ryan was between the first and
second step. He looked back then up at the driver, an elderly smiling
black man.

"I Zeek, de big man's driver, yo' as fas' as that Trasker boy, so's
I's guessin' we'ins `ill get along too."

Auggie sat in his big chair on wheels behind a low partition above the
entry steps and three steps above the driver's level. He laughed at
seeing Ryan's look of surprise as he scanned the interior for the first
time. "This here's my limo, pretty fuckin' neat ain't it? Yo'
already met Zeek down there. He's been tryin' to slap ass with that
damn door since we got this thing ain't yo' Zeek?"

"He sure has, my ass," Trasker laughed answering for Zeek while Zeek
nodded and increased speed hurtling the bus at a closed rolling gate in
the fence between maintenance hangers. Trasker looked sheepishly at Ryan,
"And now he's after yours too, sorry about that, I forgot to warn
you."

Ryan shrugged, "He missed." He sat on the sofa opposite Auggie and
pointed toward the rear, "What's back there as if I didn't know?" he
asked after Auggie congratulated Zeek on forcing the gate guard to
frantically open his gate in time or lose it.Trasker flopped beside Ryan, laughing and slapping Ryan's bare knee,
"Yup, one oversized bathroom and a kitchen of course."

Auggie became animated at mention of his favorite room. Ryan frowned,
"You had lunch on the plane remember?"

"Yeah, but only one little ole hoagie sandwich, we didn't have time for
no dessert. Tell you what; I'll just have two cookies, how's that?"
Auggie's eyes gleamed suspiciously.

"Take the deal," Trasker urged, "They're fresh baked and some good,
he usually eats all we got except what Zeek and I manage." He was
already up and walking aft stepping on the elevator platform which served
as a wide hallway when not in use.

"Okay two." Ryan agreed.

Trasker reappeared with one large cookie tin, plates, napkins and four
big glasses of milk, all closely arranged on a tray. Auggie swiveled his
seat so he faced a permanent dinette table and had his back to the front
windows. Trasker put the tray on the table and served his uncle first.
Then he turned toward Ryan, the cookie tin was open. Ryan blinked and
looked up at Auggie who was happily nibbling on a dinner plate size pecan
shortbread cookie while a second waited his pleasure on his plate. The
tin had been full to the lid with the same size cookies, "Scammer,"
Ryan accused with a laugh. He sniffed and sampled, "But they sure smell
great and taste even better."

They were on a busy two lane secondary road in the country where farm
land still predominated but was interspersed with encroaching housing
developments occupied by the upwardly mobile of Atlanta. Zeek cursed a
barely intelligible warning, braked hard and blew the penetrating air
horn, all simultaneously. The heavy bus rocked and swerved. Trasker and
Ryan were holding their glasses of milk, Auggie reached for his, missed
and the glass tipped toward him sloshing milk on his belly, wetting his
suit, shirt and tie he still wore. "ZEEK, Goddamnit! What the fuck yo'
doin' boy?" Auggie screamed.

Zeek explained hurriedly and accelerated, Ryan looked blank, and "Could
you translate that?" he asked while he and Trasker used their napkins to
sop up spilled milk from the table. Trasker pointed out the front window
and down at the frightened faces of teenage passengers and the driver's
eyes in his rear view mirror sitting in a red Mustang convertible with
the top down. The blank doors of a semi trailer was directly in front of
the car and getting closer as the driver attempted to get away from irate
Zeek and the bus as it crept closer to his rear bumper. "That crazy kid
tried to pass us AND the semi on this busy road. He cut us off to avoid a
head on I guess," Trasker explained, "and now Zeek's got him pinned
between us." They watched the Mustang continually creep left and swerve
back as the driver looked to see if he could pass the truck and escape
his predicament.

Auggie clapped his hands and giggled encouraging Zeek to keep up the
pressure, "Yo' jus' nudge that some bitch one time so's he's got him
some paint to remember us by an yo' gets a thousand bonus cash money!"
Zeek grinned and nodded, accepting the challenge.

A newly paved deceleration lane appeared on the right that was still
lined with orange barrels, the soon to be entrance into one of the new
developments. The Mustang's driver swerved sharply to the right trying
to fit between the warning barrels. He almost succeeded. One barrel flew
up and back and was still airborne as the bus passed. Zeek cursed and
cursed in dialect while he pounded the steering wheel with one fist.
Trasker began to translate for Ryan unasked between peals of laughter.
Ryan stopped him, "Don't bother Trask, I think I got most of that."

Tears rolled down Auggie's cheeks while he reached into his coat pocket
for his billfold, "Calm down Zeek boy, yo' got him, orange paint's as
good as blue. That was sure some fine drivin', ah right fittin' end to
a profitable trip," he congratulated Zeek while he counted out the
bonus.

Ryan saw the countryside change back to rural, there was no new
construction, and just fields of thriving summer crops on both sides of
the road interspersed with an occasional farm house set back from the
road, marked by trees and out buildings. Auggie looked around the
panoramic view from the big bus' expanse of windows and slowly waved his
hand in a circular motion over his head. He timed his announcement
perfectly, "Ryan boy, welcome to Redland Plantation," he intoned
proudly as Zeek slowed and turned into a side road past a pair of
unadorned brick gate posts. "This here is the main driveway to the
house," he pointed forward. The drive was perfectly straight and lined
with ancient live oaks draped with moss. Ryan squinted to see their
destination in the far distance; a miniature red brick mansion fronted by
eight white pillars.

The house grew slowly as they neared it until when Zeek stopped opposite
the front doors the bus was dwarfed by the massive structure. The masonry
column bases were four feet in diameter and rose forty feet to support
the veranda roof which extended twenty feet out from the wall of the
house. This cavernous space was broken by a second floor balcony that
like the veranda ran the full length of the house. What appeared to be
tall wide windows from a distance resolved into French doors from every
front room on both floors, "Fuck me!" Ryan mumbled when he stood by the
bus looking everywhere.

"Once upon a time," Auggie agreed wistfully from Ryan's side. He
always enjoyed watching the reactions of first time visitors. Ryan
started to retort until he saw Trasker blush furiously and look away.

"Unc," Trasker managed hesitantly, "about that, well, thanks an' all,
but I'd much rather live at home if you'll let me still."

Auggie arched an eyebrow with a smile, "I'll just bet you up an' heard
some stories about me keepin' a passel o' boys in my house as
playthings ain't cha?" He didn't give Trasker time to confirm or deny
he'd heard the rumors, "Well I'm settin' here to tell ya'll that
ain't none of them stories true. There ain't no passel, there weren't
but three before I left outta here an' ain't none o' them sleeps in
the house. I keeps `em out to the coach barn where they won't never
bother ya'll a tall unless yo' want `em to. If yo' ain't o' the
persuasion then yo' ain't, so there, I'm some glad we got that outten
the way early," he concluded with a shrug and then giggled suddenly,
"Is that why yo' always lookin' around inside the house all bug eyed
an' jittery ever time yo' darken my door, like yo' was about to be
mole-ested?" Trasker nodded apologetically. Auggie laughed, "An' all
this time I thought you was just scared o' me like the rest o' the mob.
Sorry if I treated yo' such but I had no way o' knowin' you have a
head on them shoulders since you never back talked me."

"The coach barn," Ryan asked with disbelief in his voice, "why don't
you keep them in the kennels with your other pets?"

"Smart ass, the kennel's too far away. These boys never bark, they is
house broke an' I doubt they bite often either from just watchin' `em
at play." Even Trasker had to laugh at his Uncle's reasoning and
Auggie's reference to his pets biting when they played escaped him
entirely.

"So you keep these young studs in a barn instead?" Ryan asked hiding
his mouth and laughter with his hand from innocent Trasker.

Auggie started his scooter forward and shouted back, "Shit, my boys live
better `an some relatives I suffer from. Come on, I'll just show ya."

Trasker looked at Ryan hopefully, "Want to, I mean just see what these
guys look like? I know the coach barn is really Uncle Auggie's office
an' all but he never invites anyone out there, none of us, the family
anyway even though everyone knows he's gay."

"Sure," Ryan agreed, "if were going to be working with him we'll be
in the office all the time anyway, so we might as well get used to seeing
them." Trasker nodded and started to follow Auggie inside the house.
"Wait up Trask, there's something you should know up front, about me
that is, your uncle hired me in part because he recognized that I'm gay
too. We can sort of recognize each other, ah you know." Ryan ran out of
words when he saw Trasker's look of amazement or bewilderment or maybe
disappointment.

"Get out of town! No way, you can't be, we been ridin' in the plane
and in the bus settin' right next to each other an' you never did a
thing not like Argyle an' Thirsty, they would have pawed my ass so bad
I'd have had to lock myself in the john."

Ryan grinned, "Well maybe you haven't heard, but it is possible for a
gay guy to be friends with a straight guy without one catching the
other's preferences. Gay isn't catching and I know you're straight, so
if you can overlook the difference, I can and I'd really like us to be
friends."

Trasker grinned and offered Ryan his hand, "I want that too, believe it
or not I haven't been beatin' friends off with a stick my entire life.
The name Bligh is enough for most townie guys an' even girls my age to
up and run because everyone knows about Uncle Auggie."

Auggie reappeared in the front doorway, "You boys comin' or not? Here I
am talkin' up a storm on the way out there thinkin' you was right
behind me," he groused while making a tight u-turn on the veranda.

Ryan and Trasker ran to catch up. Inside, Ryan wanted to stop and
appreciate the grand foyer, the two flying staircases that swept up the
inside of the rotunda to the second floor circular balcony supported by
nothing visible. He wondered if the stained glass sky light in the domed
ceiling was by Louis Tiffany even though the mansion predated the Civil
War. He and Trasker giggled and increased speed when they both looked up
at the heavy crystal encrusted chandelier that drooped from the center of
the skylight when they were directly under it. Both watched too many
movies, chandeliers like that always fell on someone.

Auggie led them straight across the rotunda charging a three story window
of mullioned panes. Floor level doors whooshed open, disappearing in the
walls and closed behind them with equal speed. They found themselves back
outside on a roofed-over brick walkway that bisected an elaborate garden.
"This roof ain't supposed to be here but fuck it, ain't no one on the
National Hysterical Register gettin' wet, just me." Auggie confided
over his shoulder.

"Huh?" Ryan never heard of a hysterical register. The light dawned,
"Oh, Historical Register."

"Yeah, but they's too fanatical, tellin' me what I can an' can't do
to my own house."

The building they were approaching, the coach barn, was a scaled down
replica of the house. Auggie explained that the original structure burned
long before his tenure and he replaced it with a building that appeared
old on the outside; he needed an office and somewhere to house his
collection of playthings and he added with a leer, someplace for them to
play. "Hospital emergency room doors," he told them at the coach house
doors after they too whooshed open hydraulically, "Them's the fastest I
could find, I got' em ever' where I travel on this place." He led them
to his office which occupied the center of the back wall of the large two
story building. The wall was glass, the drapes were open. The boy and
young man studied the view and Auggie studied them. It was the first time
he'd allowed anyone into his very private inner sanctum except for black
servants, servants didn't qualify as being anyone. Trasker admired the
whole expanse of the courtyard formed by two wings that extended out from
the coach house. In another era the wings would have been box stalls for
horses, his uncle made the stalls into rooms. The opposite end of the
u-shaped building was a high wall with an arched solid double gate cut
into the middle. A large classic shaped swimming pool shimmered in the
middle of the paved open space and large potted plants scattered around
softened the expanse of brick.

Ryan ignored the architecture. His attention centered on three human
bodies at the far corner of the pool. One was stretched out on a lounge
on his belly. Another lay on a towel on his back alongside the lounge and
the third was in the pool holding himself up in the corner with his arms
on the combing. The three were talking quietly and unaware that they were
being watched.

The boy in the pool kicked his legs sending ripples out over the placid
surface. Trasker's eyes moved to the source and widened. The boy on the
lounge reached down to his mate on the deck and casually stroked him
until he was fully erect. The boy on the deck went up on his elbows to
watch. It seemed to a bug eyed Trasker and Ryan that the two were
discussing something of importance. Ryan frowned wondering what was
happening.

Auggie chuckled, "I better give ya the lay o' the land out there so's
you know what's goin' on. First off, Phillip, the kid on the lounge is
a purantee nancy boy. He claims his cock is still a virgin except o'
course fer gettin' sucked regular. Now the one gettin' played with,
Stevie, is one o' them any which way but loose types, the bestest kind
by my thinkin'." Trasker looked puzzled. Auggie saw a sheen of sweat
appear on his nephew's forehead. "I mean he likes gettin' or givin',
an I'm thinkin' just now Phillip is wantin' to get got an' they might
be discussin' the where an' how." The third boy vaulted from the pool,
took two steps to the end of the lounge, sank to his knees and
unceremoniously pulled Phillip back until his widely spread feet touched
the deck with his butt in perfect presentation position. "So much for
where and when, an' the who just changed to my stud man Trevor. Trevor
pops either any ol' time he feels like it, he ain't nasty about it but
he don't take lip from neither one either. Ain't he just poetry in
motion? Look at them back an' ass muscles workin' an' little ol'
Phillip's lovin' every inch he's gettin'."

Ryan jammed both fists in his shorts pockets. Trasker saw the motion from
the corner of his eye and the briefest look at the reason before Ryan's
excitement was distorted by his hands. He took a step back when he felt
pain in his crotch and attempted to emulate Ryan only to discover that
tight form fitting western jeans don't have very commodious pockets.
"I'm parched," Trasker announced and turned away to walk behind the
small bar which effectively hid his problem temporarily until his uncle
agreed.

"Good idea, I'll just have my usual, bourbon and branch please." He
leered at Ryan's shorts, "You wantin' a calmer downer Ryan boy?"
Auggie asked innocently, "Pears as yo' could use one, OR," he nodded
toward the window but left the alternative unsaid.

"Yeah, bourbon for me too I guess, thanks." Ryan went to stand in front
of the bar to await his drink and effectively hide himself from
Trasker's view, but he compounded the boy's problem because the bar was
set far enough out away from the back bar so Auggie could roll through
the space on his scooter to serve himself which left Ryan a clear view
each time Trasker moved to find the ice maker, glasses, a bottle of
bourbon and another of water in the fridge. "Just keep your eyes down
and think of something else, it will go away," Ryan whispered with a
smile.

"Easy for you to say," Trasker hissed, "you seen that before, hell you
done it, but this is all new to me," he concentrated on pouring booze in
three glasses and then had little room for water. He put two drinks on
the bar, begging Ryan with his eyes to serve his uncle while he gulped
his staring at the ceiling. His double old fashion tumbler contained only
ice when he returned it to the bar.

Ryan served Auggie close by the windows, "Sorry about the color, there
seems to be a water shortage."

Auggie sipped his drink and smacked his lips appreciatively, "Jus'
right Trasker boy, I'll be missin' your services when yo' at
college." He pointed wordlessly at the trio. Trevor the top finished;
pulled away from Phillip and motioned Stevie to replace him with a grin
and sweep of his arm. Stevie was ready with a folded towel for under his
knees. Trevor laughed at the nicety and returned to the pool with a
splash.

Trasker stayed behind the bar and tried to think of other things as Ryan
suggested, but his eyes and libido wouldn't let him. He watched the
change of studs and wondered what it felt like to be in role, top or
bottom. He studied Ryan's body from the back, the shorts and shirt hid
too much, but he saw the width of his shoulders, narrow hips and small
butt through the material. He already knew Ryan's arms were well
muscled, tanned and smooth and his calves were tight. And he knew
something else about Ryan; he was well endowed when hard just from a
split seconds' glance. That single frame of stretched material was
burned indelibly into his brain. He shook himself like a dog as the
hundred proof alcohol began to affect his vision; his vision or his
inhibitions. "Say Unc, I'm needin' to go over to home an' get my
stuff if I'm gonna be livin' here with y'all. I'll be back in an hour
or so."

Auggie eyes skimmed Ryan's as he looked back to answer, "Sure enough
boy, yo' jus do that an' take Ryan here with yo'. Show `im around
some so's he don' get lost." Both Auggie and Ryan noted that there
were no further protests about living in the big house and Trasker's
implied agreement to be working in Auggie's office with its incumbent
erotic views.

Trasker was already at the doorway; distance from the window was a good
thing. He turned back to say he didn't need help, but saw Ryan's
hopeful look and compromised by pulling his shirttails out of his jeans.
He looked down pleased that his downscale grooming hid his residual
excitement while he calmed down the rest of the way outside, anywhere but
in that room.

Ryan carried his drink and kept his free hand out of his pocket while
they walked through the garden to the garage area where Trasker parked
his pickup truck. Close proximity delayed Ryan's calming process, but he
wanted Trasker to look, to see the bulge if he wanted to look. Trasker
looked, he couldn't help himself, Ryan caught him and grinned, "Sorry,
I'm always horny and watching those guys was all it took. You may as
well get used to it because it'll keep happening and probably starting
tomorrow I might just be parading around in the all-together. I agreed
to, your uncle asked, but that was before you entered the equation. Maybe
now he'll let me get away with wearing a pair of shorts."

Trasker wasn't listening to Ryan's revelation; he wanted to ask a
question, how to ask it was another question. "I ah was wondering, while
we're on the subject of sex," he began. Ryan looked surprised and away
at the view to smile. "Well, Unc said some stuff I didn't understand;
about one guy bein' a full time stud, an' the one who was, well
gettin', I mean the nancy boy an' the other who was in between, the
either or kid, well I was just wonderin' that's all."

"Was there a question in there that I missed somehow?" Ryan asked, but
not unkindly. "Are you interested in knowing what I like, is that your
question?"

"Well yeah since you asked, if it ain't too personal, I mean between
friends an' all." Trasker looked hopeful and a little drunk.

Ryan laughed and slapped Trasker's back. Trasker's expression changed
at the touch and he took his hand away quickly. "Trasker Bligh, you
should study for the diplomatic corps. What I like since I guess I did
ask, is being on top mostly but occasionally very rarely I meet someone
special, twice to be exact. I thought it would be long term, but it
turned out that except for good sex we really never had anything in
common, like nothing to talk about except sex and you might not believe
this, but that gets old real quick. I need something more than that. I
met your uncle at a party." He went on to tell Trasker about the guys, a
group of couples who all got along with each other and even apparently
got it on with each other without any jealousy. How they all enjoyed
sports; and more importantly how they joked, laughed and held real
intelligent conversations in between. "You can see them tonight if you
want, I've got some tapes, then they'll be down here in a couple of
weeks on the way to Florida. In fact I guess we'll be joining them."
Ryan began telling Trasker about the planned shows and stopped in mid
sentence when they stood under an old tree looking at an ancient pickup
truck. "Is this yours?" he couldn't quite hide the incredulity in his
question.

Trasker laughed, "Hell yeah its mine. It was my daddy's he was fixin'
it up for me an' I'll be gettin' it finished one of these days."

"Shit you mean one of these years. If someone threw a handful of magnets
at it none would stick, there's so much Bondo."

Trasker laughed harder and went to the passenger door, "Unc's plumb
right y'all are a smart ass. Yo' best drive I'm feelin' a mite woozy
from that drink. The keys is in it."

Ryan climbed behind the steering wheel and gave Trasker his drink to
hold, "Dare I ask about seatbelts or airbags?"

Trasker took a healthy drink from Ryan's glass before he answered the
snide question, "Yo' can ask. I'm told they work super good on the
vehicles as has `em."

Trasker directed Ryan over the plantation roads until one was lined with
neat homes, a mini housing development. Ryan backed into the carport of
one. They entered the kitchen through an unlocked door. The interior was
neat and clean, there was one overturned coffee cup and a spoon on the
counter by the sink. Trasker's room was papered with sports car
advertisements with Corvette the obvious first choice among them. Trasker
handed Ryan his glass; it was empty, "That went down real smooth, sorry
about that," he giggled to negate his sorrow, "y'all want a refill? I
feel like I could use another, I'll be right back. There are some old
suit cases in the hall closet; you want to start packin' the small stuff
from the chest of drawers, then we can just toss the hangin' stuff on
top the cases in the truck."

Trasker snatched Ryan's glass back and took off for the kitchen, Ryan
laughed and shook his head, "Goddamn," he shouted, "we'll have to
change your name to Huckleberry Finn!"

Trasker's rich laugh echoed, "I'll be right there to help!" Then,
"Fuck a duck, I'm out o' booze, I'll borrow some!" The screen door
slammed and slammed again two minutes later, "Is moonshine okay, that's
all I could find? Argyle an' Thirsty weren't home, they're the cousins
I mentioned as bein' somewhat handy around guys."

"I guess. I never had it! Hey Trask, can I borrow a pair of your shorts?
I don't have any clothes until I buy some and get mine shipped from
California!"

"Sure, help yourself!" Ryan sorted through Trasker's assortment of
shorts, found a pair of nearly new cotton high school gym shorts and a
matching school tank top. He began to change by dropping the pair he was
wearing and pulling his shirt over his head. "I believe I'll change
too," Trasker said softly from the doorway. He was holding Ryan's glass
and an old jar of some sort, both were full of clear liquid and ice
cubes. He was staring, caught himself, looked away and held out Ryan's
glass in his general direction.

"It's okay to look Trask. I told you I might be naked in the office if
your uncle holds me to the deal, plus I just know he'll never allow
anyone in that pool wearing a bathing suit including you, so there's no
reason to be modest." Ryan took his renewed drink and placed it on the
chest of drawers after placing a car magazine under it. Then he put his
fists on his hips, struck a pose and waited.

Trasker's jelly jar joined Ryan's glass. He nodded and began to undress
making believe he was in the high school locker room changing for
Physical Education all while his eyes remained fixed on the carpet. He
was totally red faced because he knew Ryan, naked Ryan was watching his
every move. When he was equally undressed he searched out Ryan's bare
feet. He lifted his eyes slowly. He was unprepared for Ryan's friendly
smile. "There, now that wasn't all that difficult was it?" Ryan
didn't wait for an answer. He tossed his thumb at an open drawer, "You
better pick something out so we can get done."

"Yeah, there's an older pair of gym shorts in here, I'll wear those."

"I'll wear the older stuff if you want, I don't mind," Ryan started
to push off the borrowed shorts.

Trasker stopped him with a giggle after a glance, "Nope you best not,
those are thirty's and the old ones are twenty-eight's. You fill those
up enough so that you better be careful about doin' any jumpin' jacks,
squat jumps or just walkin' for that matter; you'll be poppin' out all
over the place without a jock. You want a jock?"

"Nope not if you've worn it already," Ryan answered without thinking.

Trasker took on a hurt look, "Shit it's been washed and I don't think
I've got anything," he nearly blurted the reason why he couldn't
possibly have a venereal disease, unless seventeen year old virginity was
catching or there was a new airborne one that he was unaware of.

Ryan shook his head, "I didn't mean that jerk. I meant that if I wore a
jock that you've worn, I'd most likely get a hard on just thinking
about my cock and yours being in the same place, ah at the same time. Gay
guys think like that, like straight guys steal girlfriend's panties all
the time."

"TO WEAR THEM?" Trasker was shocked at the thought. He pulled the older
smaller shorts up his legs looking thoroughly amazed.

Ryan laughed, delighted with the teenager's honest naiveté, "Some might
wear them occasionally, but I think they might sniff them mostly although
I'm not an authority on the subject." He leered when Trasker checked
the positioning of his package in a floor length mirror behind the door.
They stood together for a moment at the mirror. Trasker didn't hesitate
to study his new friend's image wearing tight shorts before they put on
shirts. He nodded his approval.

"Thanks, you too," Ryan said with a husky voice, looking directly at
Trasker's handsome profile. He shook himself, "Come on, let's put on
shirts and get out of this bedroom. I know I can handle seeing you naked
when someone else is around, but here in your bedroom alone with you, and
you looking so sexy, you're very tempting right now and I'm trying
really hard to keep from being a complete asshole." Trasker nodded and
they went to work after Ryan took a sip of his drink.

Trasker bent double laughing, "That's why white lightenin's also
called sippin' whiskey JERK, `cause you sipped stuff that's close to a
hundred an' thirty poof after I cut it down with some with water."

By the time Ryan parked the old truck at Auggie's front door, the early
twenties something young man and the teenager were feeling no pain, their
moonshine cocktails were still half full and everything they did or said
was funny to the point of back slapping tears. Auggie was waiting for
them on the veranda by pacing his scooter as fast as he could back and
forth its entire length. He met them head on at the top of the low steps
to the veranda level. If he'd been angry at their tardiness he forgot
about it when he eyed Trasker's truck with a baleful stare. The happy
pair helped each other up the steps in a plutonic way although not
without a lot of liberal tickling.

"An' just exactly what is that thing?" he pointed to the Bondo spotted
truck and then moved his finger to Ryan, "I know your first job o' work
is gettin' this here kid in college, but the first thing you gotta do
tomorrow mornin' is to get him some decent respectable wheels under him
first off. Get to town, pick out somethin' an' just have `em call me
about payin' cause we sure as hell ain't havin' that thing parked in
front of OUR house! What if someone was lost and journeyed down our drive
for directions just now? I'd be mortified at anyone thinkin' that was
mine or yours either boy."

Ryan grinned foolishly remembering that the only wall decoration Trasker
decided to move was a poster of a Corvette. "Anything includes a lot
Auggie. Your young great nephew here has very good taste in car flesh. We
got a budget?"

"O' course not, a car ain't been built as I couldn't pay for," he
grinned, "an' ain't none o' those for sale around here anyways. Say,
what kinda wheels you got out west?"

Trasker hiccupped to life, "Yeah Ryan boy whatcha got? Somethin' better
`n mine for sure."

Ryan broke into a fit of giggles, "Not really except for a ton of Bondo.
I got me an old Isuzu Trooper. It's fitted out with a roof rack to hold
a sail board an' a surf board, an' I got me rocket launchers on the
front bumper to hold fishin' poles. O' course she's a four by four so
I can drive on the beach if I can get on the beach." He found their lazy
language easy to imitate.

"What size rockets can ya fire an' who at?" Trasker joked which caused
both of them to hold each other up while they laughed.

Auggie grinned and shook his head, "In the future you boys do your
drinkin' to home." Trasker choked suddenly and dropped his jar to cover
his mouth. He broke free of Ryan's support and his upper body began to
wave back and forth "Ryan boy grab him, let's get `im inside an' up
to bed. Don't worry about pukin' son, it cleans." Auggie led the way
to the elevator that was cleverly concealed in the ornate rotunda wall
paneling. With permission, Trasker began to puke, on himself, on Ryan and
the elevator floor. Auggie inspected the watery glop, "You boys been
suckin' that `shine on empty stomachs, that's what."

Ryan barely nodded, afraid that he was going to be sick too. Trasker
became inert so Ryan picked him up and mumbled one word; bathroom. Auggie
rolled to the first door along the hall, "This here is his or yours,
makes no difference." He turned the knob and rammed the door open with
practiced ease then he backed out of the way allowing Ryan the freedom to
run to the bathroom. He followed to stop just inside the bathroom door.
Ryan ran straight into the large glass enclosed shower, and propped
Trasker against the wall with one hand while he used the other to support
his bent over upper body before his puke surged up his throat. Auggie
disappeared long enough to fetch two glasses of water from the small wet
bar. When he returned Ryan looked askance at the cut crystal glasses
filled with ice and water until Auggie assured him it was straight water.
He accepted a glass and shared it with Trasker. Then he turned on the
shower and pulled Trasker's shirt off to drop it. His shirt, his shorts
and then Trasker's shorts made a wet pile near the drain. He allowed
Trasker to slide down the wall to sit on the tiles so he could remove the
boy's shoes before he sat down to take off his own.

"I think we'll live after a night's sleep. Please never show me
another Mason jar full of that shit as long as I live." Ryan mumbled.

"It sure was a right good lesson your first day here." Auggie agreed
with a nod. "Y'all need help gettin' the boy to bed? It appears you
ain't as bad as him."

"Thanks Auggie we'll be alright. I think poor Trasker might have been
ahead of me."

"Mayhap or just over nervous from watchin' the show, them boys knew I
was home by listenin' for the bus an' wanted to earn their keep. I see
you changed clothes, anything else happen?"

"Nope, I told you he was," Ryan mouthed the word straight.

Auggie nodded and looked at Trasker, "Truth to tell I ain't so sure he
knows which way his wind blows yet. Whichever, let him decide, when I
said otherwise I sure didn't know he was the onliest smart ass back
talker in the whole family." Auggie backed out, "Good night son, I'll
see ya to breakfast. Oh, the extensions is marked on the phone if y'all
feel like eatin' later. My kitchen don't never close."

Auggie drove to his two room suite on the other side of the twin
staircases. The first door was open, it was his bedroom, the door leading
to the adjoining room was closed. He went straight there. At first glance
the second room looked like a sitting room except there was a single bed
sitting in the middle of the floor and the seating was pushed back so he
could maneuver around the bed quickly at whim and all the hanging art
work on the walls had been replaced by plasma screens. He picked an over
sized remote from the bed and activated the largest of the screens over
the fireplace mantle. He frowned seeking the right channel. The screen
kept blinking quick pictures of empty bedrooms until he found one with
the bathroom lights on. He keyed a sub-channel or camera, one of six he
might choose in each bedroom. He toggled the zoom and then focused. Ryan
held Trasker upright under the shower by hugging him against his chest.
Trasker's head rested between one of his own shoulders since both arms
hung limp down Ryan's back, and Ryan's neck. Auggie cursed the quantity
of steam obscuring the picture but stopped when he heard voices. They
were talking. Trasker wasn't sleeping as he assumed. He fumbled with the
volume control until he could hear them clearly over the hissing shower.

Ryan asked, "Are you sure you're all right?" He pushed Trasker back
until he could see the boy's face. Trasker kept his eyes closed but was
still too drunk to contain his smile. Ryan shook him gently, "Faker!"

Trasker closed his arms around Ryan's neck and pulled his body back in
contact with Ryan's, "I am but right now I'm just feelin' so cuddly,
so cuddly I think we should find a nice bed somewhere an' just see where
this all is leadin'."

Ryan pushed Trasker away a second time, opened the shower door and pulled
him out. Auggie adjusted the camera frantically. He saw that both boys
were erect. His eyes widened when he looked at his nephew, his great
nephew, he corrected. Trasker's body was lean and hard as it should be
for an athletic ex-high school student; his straight erection stood out
just above horizontal and appeared to be well above average. Ryan threw
Trasker a towel which he failed to catch with his hands; it slipped down
his body until it was neatly draped over his cock. He looked down and
giggled, then tapped Ryan politely on the shoulder, "Hey stud, check
this out."

Ryan kept his back to the boy because he lacked will power even when he
was cold sober and his cock was insistently demanding satisfaction. He
looked back and grinned, "A built in towel rack, pretty cool. How about
using that towel to dry yourself before you get in bed?"

"I will if you promise to get in bed with me."

"Nope, I already told you twice in the shower; not while you're drunk.
If I did you'd hate me in the morning maybe more than I'd hate
myself." Trasker reached out to grab Ryan but missed, "That's it I'm
done talkin', I'm goin' to bed in my room alone. If you follow me in
there I'll hurt you," he warned, "Good night."

Trasker stopped him with a sob and a final plea, "Ain't you even gonna
give me a little ol' kiss good night?"

Ryan stopped and turned, tears welled in Trasker's eyes, "Please," he
begged, "I've never been kissed by a livin' soul exceptin' Momma."
Trasker's towel rack quit, the towel dropped to the rug. He looked so
vulnerable, so innocent, so trusting that when added together with his
male beauty, the boy totaled out as being irresistible. Ryan took two
giant steps to Trasker, took him in his arms and kissed him until his
tongue hurt from being stretched. He backed away as quickly as he arrived
in Trasker's face.

"There, now you can't use that line on me anymore. If you still want to
when you're sober we'll talk it over." Ryan opened the door to his
adjoining bedroom, went in, then pointedly slammed and locked it.

Auggie was enthralled, he sighed when Ryan left Trasker for his own room
and bed. "Goddamn all Yankee boys with will power," he looked down
between his legs, "An' you too you useless some bitch you." He rolled
to the phone after reassigning Trasker's bedroom channel to a smaller
screen and finding Ryan's to begin playing on the big screen. "Hey, you
boys heist on up here to the boom-boom room." While he waited he split
his attention between Ryan and Trasker's screens'. Trasker threw
himself on the bed without shutting off the lights or pulling up the
sheet. Ryan circled his room like a caged animal and stopped each time he
arrived at the closed adjoining door to turn and retrace his steps.

The three boy toys arrived with a light double tap on the closed hall
door. They clustered around Auggie ready for evening orders. Auggie
pulled Phillip in close and held him against the arm of his chair with
his hand, fingers spread over the twin globes of the boy's butt. He
studied the young old face. Phillip only looked young from a distance or
on a screen because he still had a boy's body, he shaved his body hair
to appear prepubescent but up close he looked every year of the nineteen
years he claimed for an age.

Auggie pointed up at the big screen, "Y'all see that stud? He's
needin' to get his ashes hauled before he explodes. If he gives you any
shit put on your best boy act until he's in the saddle. You know boy
you're gettin' a mite long in the tooth for that act to work much
anymore, but it'll work on him for as long as it takes, just hike on
back here when he's done, I believe I missed supper this evenin'." He
patted Phillip's butt so there would be no misunderstandings.

Trevor giggled, "Hell Mista Bligh, you could OD on what ol' Phillips'
packin'. Stevie an' I got him full up." After Phillip left with a
wave, Trevor pulled Stevie against his body, "What plans you got for us
Mista Bligh?"

Auggie pointed to Ryan's screen, "Whatever he does to Phillip, y'all
do to Stevie." He saw the smaller boy frown, "Don't you worry boy, I
misdoubt he's hurtful."

They knew when Phillip knocked on Ryan's door because Stevie took charge
of the remote after Auggie complained about million dollar video systems
that a child could operate easily, only he wasn't a child. Stevie
experimented for all of thirty seconds before he began tracking Ryan
camera to camera and quickly managing close ups of the troubled face
after he understood how the zoom and focus toggles worked. Auggie
glowered at the boy before he just ignored him and watched the screen.

Ryan ran to answer the knock wearing a huge grin after a glance at the
door he wished he hadn't locked. They couldn't see his face when he
opened it because he was standing under a camera but they could hear the
conversation.

Ryan's face fell to disappointment, "What are you doing here? Auggie
sent you didn't he? Well you can just go back and thank him for me, tell
him I'm not in the mood."

Phillip simpered, "You don't want me? Come on Mister, I'm just a poor
little street kid tryin' to earn a livin' any way I can. If you don't
want me I won't get paid."

Auggie grimaced at Ryan's hash laugh, "Sorry, say how'd you vote in
the last Presidential election?"

Auggie winced, "I told `im he was gettin' old to be tryin' that," he
mumbled to Stevie and Trevor.

Trevor, not the brightest young man in the trio agreed, "He wasn't even
registered, but he liked Mondale whoever he was. Say, who won anyway?"
Stevie, the youngest but the brain and leader of the group administered a
hard elbow to Trevor's ribcage to shut him up.

The door slammed before Phillip could try another tack. Ryan reappeared
walking straight to the bed. He shut off the lights ending further
observation so Auggie couldn't see him climb on the bed to toss and turn
for half an hour before sleep claimed him. Auggie gave up and had Stevie
shut the system off. When Phillip returned he looked dejected. He put his
arm over Auggie's shoulders and took his employer's hand to place it
back on his butt.

Auggie pushed him away, "I ain't in the mood either I guess. Good night
boys." He called the kitchen to order his dinner brought up. Just before
he replaced the receiver he added, "Just half what I usually eat, I
believe I'm gettin' a mite heavy." He ignored the black cook's peals
of laughter.

Ryan awoke to a strange noise. He lifted his head in time to see a shadow
moving by one of the French doors. He rolled to grope for the light
switch. The bedside lamps turned on and he squinted while his eyes
adjusted. He knew who the intruder was; his heart went into double time.
Trasker stood by the door wearing an oh so hopeful expression. "I
believe I'm sober enough now and plumb slept out an' I ain't
interested in talkin' it over either." He ran at the bed and jumped.
Ryan didn't move a muscle to protect his exposed body from the sudden
horizontal tackle or even wince when Trasker landed hard. Trasker smiled
apologetically, but the pain he may have inflicted didn't stop him from
wriggling his body until he was face to face with Ryan. "I was dreamin'
you kissed me with tongue even, so I came over here to get one for
real."

Ryan pulled the boy's head down and kissed him again, but this time
long, deep and languorously. Trasker responded by snaking his arms under
Ryan first so his mentor couldn't dislodge him quickly or easily before
he sent his tongue out tentatively. His open eyes widened when Ryan
sucked it into his mouth and nursed it. Their erections fought each
other. At first there was the heat of dry friction but the sensation
quickly changed to warm and slippery companionship.

Trasker attempted to roll with Ryan eager to be Ryan's inferior. Ryan
spread his legs and refused to budge from his back. He grinned up at
Trasker, "And just what was that all about?"

"I'm tryin' to get on the bottom, that's what you like isn't it?"
Trasker continued his futile struggle.

"I said mostly with rare exceptions, there was two of those, now you're
gonna be the third."

Trasker froze. He looked amazed, disbelieving, "But, but," he
sputtered, "you said they were special like long term. Does this mean
you think I'm special already?"

"I believe I know so." Ryan spread his legs further and drew up his
knees.

Trasker hid his face in Ryan's shoulder. His voice was muffled and
hesitant, "There's somethin' you should know about me." Ryan waited
for the revelation without asking, he thought he already knew what
Trasker was going to say; he checked his laughter when Trasker squeaked,
"I'm a damn virgin," he rushed to add, "all ways."

Ryan lifted the boy's head and smiled, "That's something we're about
to take care of right about now." He bucked his body jouncing Trasker's
until he felt the boy's cock drop between his legs.

Trasker remained dubious, but his breathing increased, "But its okay if
I'm your nancy boy, really, I think I'd like it after tryin' it."

Trasker's eyes turned to slits when he felt Ryan milking him for more
lubrication. Ryan lifted own his legs, Trasker adjusted his body
instinctively. Ryan guided him. Trasker's eyes opened their widest when
he slid in. "There aren't any nancy boys in this family ever." He used
both hands on Trasker's little butt to drive his point and Trasker's
all the way home.

                                                                                                                                                        

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