Date: Tue, 22 Dec 2009 19:55:52 -0800 (PST)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: DECEMBER LULLABY tis the season to be merry 03 (conclusion to the story)

You know the drill: The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format
of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is
entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon
persons, of continents or islands, in countries, counties, cities, towns,
villages, neighborhoods, streets, cul-de-sacs, nor governmental or
non-governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene
involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then why are you here?
Seriously, if guy-to-guy sex stuff makes you barf or is going to screw up
your mind, you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under
18 years of age, in most states and countries, you are not allowed to read
this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such.

% Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use
protection.

%

       DECEMBER LULLABY tis the season to be merry
	wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

three

%

Even though Gazi's voice was well-tuned up at the party he and Gregg
returned from, as Marek helped into the Longport beachfront estate he sang
a little off key, "Jolly Ole St. Nick'lis, lend your ass this way... I got
somethin' special for ya even if you're straight!...."

"It don't rhyme, but I like it!" Marek, holding Gazi under an arm as he
gives 'heave' and expells him from the limo, says to Gregg, "I can handle
him from here!"

His smile to Gregg, regarding the matter of transport, received back a
smile and a favorable raising of eyebrows, considering Gazi wasn't wearing
a stitch of clothing.

Gazi being six-foot-one, one would think it a chore to lift the hundred and
ninety-eight piece of beef, but Marek was bigger, six-foot-four and
stronger and it became easy-pie to heft him up and over one shoulder. All
the time Gregg led the way and since Gazi's lower mid-region was 'right
there', Marek had fun with the bouncy parts.

"Having fun?" Gregg said as he allowed Marek to enter the spacious foyer,
closing the door behind him.

"Always!" Marek replies, a toothy grin on his face. Looking like Napolean
with his hand in his jacket, his hand was on the outside of the black
chaffeur's outfit, feeling up Gazis tenders.

Not much else was said, except some moans from Gazi, as Marek carried him
up the short flight of stairs. Ahead of Gregg, he kicked in the bedroom
door, already ajar. "Where do you want him?"

"Where do you think?" Gregg answered, already in the act of unbuckling his
pants.

And like Marek said from outside, Gazi remarks, "I take it from here,"
hopping off Marek's shoulder as he bends to drop Gazi onto the bed.

"Why you faking son-of-a...." Marek says.

Gregg laughs, Gazi replying to Marek, "Thanks for the massage. You firmed
me up good. Drop your pants, bend over and I pay the taxi driver!"

Marek's middle finger sticking up told his feelings. "You'll get yours
baby!" He made some type of gesture with his head, nodding, a smile
creasing his lips in a certain way, his eyes giving Gregg a certain stare.

He might have had plenty to drink, but dancing almost the whole night,
Gazi's alcoholic buzz wore off pretty much so, so he wasn't oblivious to
the gestures, nor the remarks made between the two. Still, he wasn't
revealing anything of which he supposed was going to happen once he and
Gregg hit the sheets. He had a 'Jolly Old St. Nick' surprise of his own in
store!

Gregg made it even more inviting, his plan of attack, when from the closet
he came with what looked to be a cricket paddle in his hand. It might have
even been the actual piece of sporting equipment, the porn movie moghul
saying, "In the mood for a little cricket?"

"That I am!" Gazi said, a toothy grin on his face.

"Oh really?" Gregg plays along. "Then how about you turn around and hump
your ass over the bed like a good little boy?"

Way ahead of him, Gazi grabs the paddle, prying away rather easily from
Gregg's hand, because he wasn't expecting it. "Lady-comes-first!" Gazi
replies, pressing a hand against Gregg's shoulder and forcing him forwards.

"What-the-fuck!"

Gazi laughs, seeing Gregg take the dive, face first into the cushy
comforter.

"What-the-fuck-Gazi! Let me up!" Gregg demands, as Gazi leans his knee on
Gregg's back, the cricket paddle lined up with Greg's lily-white ass,
tapping it gently against the two mounds.

"I think this is going to be fun!" Gazi says, laughing and widening the
distance of the cricket paddle from Gregg's ass.

"Hey! Watcha think you're doing there?"

"Marek! Help!" Gregg summoned the chaffeur at the door.

He couldn't see, Gazi having him pinned to the bed by the weight of his
thigh, but there stood Marek, as naked as they were. There was no way of
reading his mind of course, but Gazi was picturing Marek as 'King Kong' or
some other monstrous, hairy beast.

"That's why I'm here. To help you out Gregg!"

The paddle sway away from Gregg's ass as Marek approached the bed. Gazi, a
bit apprehensive now, Marek bigger than him in more ways than one, backed
off.

"I'll take that," Marek said, Gazi allowing the paddle to slip from his
hand.

On his guard, Gazi continued moving to the side of the king-sized bed,
looking around for an object which might aid him in case of a duel.

Gregg slowly doing a pushup from the bed, says, "Thank God you showed up
when you did Marek."

"I know," Marek said. But instead of going after Gazi, Marek swung a leg
over Gregg's back, his bare ass landing right on his back.

"Marek! What-the-fuck are you doing?"

"Making up for last Christmas. Remember? I laughed at your joke, but down
inside I was just waiting for the proper time to get even. 'Now' seems like
a good time," Marek says, wielding the paddle, allowing it to tap first on
Gregg's right ass cheek, then left, back to the right, a slight tapping on
the left.

Half-learning of the reason for Marek's bare ass keeping Gregg's bod bound
to the bed, he thought it a good lead back in, "What did Mr. Ballintine do
to make you so mad at him?"

In reality, it would've turned Marek on to explain it. He was already kind
of hard, his half-hard tube lying down Gregg's spine, his big boiler-makers
to each side. "Oh!" Marek started in, tapping each cheek harder, "Invited
me into the club for a couple of drinks, with all intentions of having me
meet up with a 'Mr. Terry Leabu'?"

"Don't know him," Gazi replies. Being this didn't seem to concern him much,
he found his way to standing in front of Marek, which meant he was facing
Gregg's ass.

Gregg tries to rectify, "It was a joke..." and then, "Akkkkkkkk!"

"Quiet!" Marek says after whacking Gregg on the ass.

"Fuck-Marek! I demand you let me up!"

Seeing one of Gregg's asscheeks all red, Gazi says, "It make a good
target!" He giggles, same time stroking his meat.

"Don't go getting any ideas, Gazi," Gregg complains. "Marek... if
you... Akkkkkkkkkkkk! Marek you fuckin' asshole!"

Totally ignoring his employer, Marek says, "Terry Leabu is the leading
director at Dungeon Lair Studios. Ever hear of it?"

Before Gazi replies, Gregg again complains, which in return makes his first
red ass cheek, 'redder'!

"No, I never hear about it," Gazi says, stroking his firm tool up.

Not in disregard, Marek stares at Gazi's long, thick shaft, saying, "Well,
it cost me some stripes on my back and a coupla guys using my ass and for a
life-long predominantly top-man, it can be somewhat painful as well as
aggravating?"

"Somebody fuck you... take your cherry?"

"More than one. I didn't say anthing then, took it in stride," he lifts the
cricket paddle and makes it come crashing down across both of Gregg's
asscheeks.

"Shit!" Gazi says, seeing the outline of the paddle across Gregg's ass, not
mentioning the loud outcry out of Gregg's mouth.

"Oh fuck-oh fuck Marek... You're gonna pay!"

Marek's reaction to Gregg's threats came in laughing hard.

Gazi couldn't help it. He started laughing too!

"Yeah. Good we see eye-to-eye," Marek said of Gazi seeming to go along with
him.

With the insight all along, Gazi says, "I seem to think Mr. Ballintine have
plans for me tonight, but I have my own plans."

"That makes both of us Gazi," he said it cunningly, driving the message
home where Gregg was concerned. "Yeah, I think our Mr. Ballintine needs a
little 'wake up call'. How would you feel about making him our 'tunnel of
love' for the night, Gazi?"

"Marek, you're fired! Now let me up!"

Marek just laughed. "How about I go first with our little slut and then we
take turns, Gazi?"

"It sound good to me," Gazi said, his full erection pressing him on.

"See if there's any lube in the drawer over there," Marek nods towards the
small night table.

Then he gave Gregg something really to complain about, laying the paddle
hard on each ass cheek.

"You break his ass, no?" Gazi says, holding a tube in his hand, looing down
upon the brilliant red sheen.

"Just warming it up," he speaks out loud so his bawling employer... or
former employer, can hear. Marek steals the lube out of Gazi's hand,
squeezes out a gob, wrapping it around two fingers. "Want to assist me
here, Gazi?"

Gazi knew where the lube was going, so held Gregg's ass open for the
application.

Tossing the tube on the floor, Marek worked one finger in. "Oh-h yeah! Nice
and 'fucking'-tight!"

He laughed, so Gazi laughed, saying, "One good... Two maybe better?"

"I like your thinking Gazi, but the first fuck I'm doing solo. When it's
your turn we can team up!"

Gregg protested, yelling every profanity in the book at them, threatening
not only Marek, but Gazi now with lawsuits up to the hilt. But it seemed to
help, at least keeping Greg's tongue silent, the cricket paddle leaving
it's mark, reducing the movie producer to blubbering.

Nothing more was spoken, perhaps adding to the element of surprise of
Marek's distardly deed, him quickly swinging his leg back over, like
dismounting a horse, but following up in the rear.

With plenty to bawk about now, probably more intense than a fifty pound
cricket paddle, Gregg arched his back till it looked like it would snap as
Marek's cock tip slipped past the point of no return, all in one stab.

"Oh shit that's gotta hurt!" Gazi said the understatement. But Gregg
Ballintine wasn't the only thing on Gazi's mind. Spying the tube of lube on
the floor, he picked it up. It gave him an idea!

It went swiftly, lubing himself up.

Marek fell forwards, driving himself deep into Gregg's ass with a
vengeance, leaning over and reminding Gregg of why he was punishing his
ass.

Picking up on the rhythm, two stabs of Marek's cock, then the chaffeur
driving his cock in deep, leaning again to convey his message, Gazi found
his opportunity.

Probably it deafened Gregg, with Gazi pounding his cock against Marek's
hairy ass, it slipping in rather roughly, Marek screaming his lungs out,
Gregg receiving the vocal repercussions. Gazi too, again on his guard, well
expecting Marek to maybe get up, suddenly dislodge himself, standing, Gazi
falling on his ass, he was quite amazed.

Instead of any rash action, Marek yells out, "Fuck-yeah! Let's both give it
to him good Gazi!"

So it went, Gregg Ballintine really getting the shaft - two of them, which
Marek set forth a reality contest of sorts, the questioning of which one of
them would come first!

%

That night, back at Jean-Claude's the couples, Kevin and Emre, Jean-Claude
and Brendan has turned in. As usual, Tariq lay on the sofa facing the
entertainment unit. However, his mind wasn't on any of Jean-Claude's gay
DVD collection. Instead he lay there, one hand parked behind his head, in a
dreamlike state, thinking about the waiter at Bistro Novius. As the evening
wore on, their waiter's shift ended and much to 'all' of their surprise, he
was replaced with a crackerjack guy by the name of Billy Smithers.

Often throughout the evening of courses arriving and leaving their table,
water glasses, or wine glasses being refilled, all with expedient courtesy
on behalf of Billy, it was commented several times by those at the table
that each time Billy was checking out Tariq.

Too, except for maybe Emre, still the 'father hen' for Tariq, badgered
Tariq into saying something to Billy. But he felt too inexperienced and it
maybe embarrasing to do so. But by the end of dinner, Jean-Claude asking
for the check, too Tariq came out, asking Billy for a phone number. On an
empty check, Billy scribbled something and ended it with saying Tariq could
phone him tonight if he wanted to.

So, here was Tariq, lying there flaunting his dark armpit, a hand sliding
up and down his bare teen bod, occasionally dipping below the waistband of
his Joe Boxers and an eye almost unceasingly gazing at the clock, waiting
for midnight, the time prescribed for him to phone Billy. Unfortunately,
five minutes of, he fell asleep!

Next morning at breakfast, the talk-of-the-table was centered around Tariq,
though no one spoke a word about last night's telephone memo from Billy's
hand. That is, not until Kevin opened his big mouth, "So, you and Billy
have anything set up for today?"

Coldly, Tariq says with blaise, "I fell asleep almost before I was supposed
to phone him. Probably he thinks I'm not interested."

Putting things into perspective, Jean-Claude states, "Nonsense! We all had
a good, rowdy time last night. Any one of us might not have been prepared
to keep our eyes open, waiting to make a phone call."

"J-C's right," Brendan backs up his lover, "and I bet Billy was ready to
hit the sheets last night. He's a hustler I tell you."

Brendan's comment set off a conversation centered on 'hustling', the kind
whereas a person's ability to save time, instead of wasting it, could prove
advantageous to an employer. Kevin picking up on it says, "I wonder if
that's how it will go at the flower shop."

"'Florist'," Jean-Claude corrects him.

"What's the difference?" Kevin asks as he woofs down a spoonful of Sugar
Pops.

Asserting himself, Brendan states, "J-C is just being uppity."

"It's a nice place," Tariq replies, maybe figuring since Jean-Claude was
nice and caring to him last night, he should at least help fend for him.

"More than nice," Jean-Claude sticks up for himself, "the building was
designed by a colleague and is situated is rather a 'posh' area of town."

But before the conversation could travel too far, all had to head out in
their own directions. Jean-Claude and Emre headed upstairs, followed by
Kevin. Tariq waited his turn to use the shower, helping Brendan with the
dishes.

"So, what's happening with the job at the cafe, Tariq?"

It's was an assembly line, Brendan ferrying the dishes to the sink, Tariq
rinsing and depositing them in the dishwasher as he informs him, "I'm
quitting today."

"Is that the conclusion you and Jean-Claude came to?" He questioned,
wanting to see how the decision went over with a sound advisor.

"It was more mine, but it was good to have somebody who is experienced at
these things to listen... to make sure I'm doing the right thing."

Just as Brendan thought! "I think it's probably best. Make a fresh
start. So, do you have any other leads?"

"No. I'll start looking again after school. Speaking of which I better kick
Kevin and Emre out of the jon or else I'll have to go to school smelling
bad, which would not be too cool."

"I agree. Let me know if you need help kicking ass!" Of course Brendan
would not mind also seeing more than the top half of the two!

So, alone in the kitchen, he helped himself to the last cup of java, then
mulled around. He found himself in front of the refrigerator and almost
spat out his coffee, choking as he gazed at the dates on the calendar,
gasping, "Oh shit! It's only ten days till Christmas?"

%

Down the shore, the three had slumbered together, Gazi awakening, finding
himself clutching Gregg from the rear. As he rolled over onto his back, he
was awakened by a discovery. He had fallen asleep with his cock still in
Gregg's ass and the friction caused him to stir. It would have made a
precious picture, the smile on Gazi's bace as his eyes were just twinkling
open with a fluttering. After less than a minute's time passes, he lifts
his head, sees if Marek was still there or vacated the bed. He was still
there, still in the last position he remembered, clutching Gregg under the
arms and reeking his last act of revenge, driving his knee into Gregg's
balls as Gazi sweetly pounded his ass for the... he held up his hand,
counting off the digits, trying to think if it were three or four times he
fucked Gregg, but then got sidetracked because he also did Marek a few
times. It didn't matter, himself coming out the winner, with still the
virgin ass!

"Yeah, was so fuckin' good, huh?" Marek suddenly said, snagging Gazi at
counting off the number of 'fucks'.

With a wiseguy attitude, Gazi replies, "You or him?"

"Which was tighter?"

"Both the same, but I like making love with you."

"Good answer," Marek replies.

"So I guess I am not with a job at the studio anymore?" Gazi sums up,
regarding Gregg's accusations, which he flung at them almost incessantly
throughout the night, that is till he was wrought with exhaustion from
getting his ass reamed about eight or nine times.

In the morning sun shining through the slats in the blinds, crossing the
bed, Marek carefully dislodges his caress over Gregg, climbing over
him. With plenty of room in the oversized king bed, all it takes is Gazi to
move his bod one to his right and Marek fits in the space perfectly. "I
wouldn't worry too much about 'our' Mr. Ballintine."

"But he said he is going to sue us."

His arm slipped in under Gazi's neck as he reported, "You don't know. You
were too busy fucking me last night to hear, but slowly, as I began to
'own' Gregg's ass, he began giving in. Suing us? I think hardly the
case. In fact I might be up for promotion, from chaffeuring to an 'indoors'
job."

"Butler?" Gazi asks, meaning more that one 'T'.

"Personal valet and 'butt'-ler!" Marek replies.

Gregg was dead to the world, being through the rigorous ass-workings, plus
the after effects of the cricket-paddling.

Straying from their reminiscing over last night, Marek gently stroked
Gazi's hair, turning to lean halfway on him as he closed in for a kiss.

Gazi approved, but had something reflections on last night. He thought
Marek to be handsome, nice and muscular, but had some qualms about, "You
maybe should see about this?"

Marek stopped and looked down between them, seeing and feeling Gazi with a
pinch of his bod hair, tugging it away from his stomach. "I happen to like
being furry."

"It 'is' nice, but you have too much of it!"

"Is that so?" Marek said. He got up and knelt, looking down upong himself.

Gazi also remarks, "And your bush is too much of it."

"Really?" Marek says, feeling up the untidy mass, integrated with leftover
cock and ass-juices. Then he admits, "I suppose it does kind of hide some
of the bulging."

Then, with a toe, Gazi pings Marek's ball sacs. "And you should shave
these."

Marek jokes, "Be careful. They aren't quite empty yet!"

Gazi thinks maybe Marek is hinting to empty them into 'him', so he makes
sure, saying, "You better wake up Gregg then!"

"Nah. His ass is wasted. We've got to wait a week and let him tighten up."

"We?" Gazi replies.

"Yeah sure. I think it would be cool if the three of us got together
regularly for a gangbang?"

His toe playing havoc with Marek's balls, Gazi replies, "I think maybe I
gangbang you. You a good cocksucker?"

"Uh, hold it a second," Marek says, leaving the question debatable. Leaving
the room, he returns. In his hand is a small cam. "I think we'll need a
little insurance just in case. Get over on the other side of Gregg, sit up
near the pillow."

Gazi does as instructed.

"Good. Now roll Gregg over so his face falls in your crotch."

Getting it, Gazi does it, but he feels more than dead weight.

Stirring the cam into action, Marek gives the bed a big nudge with his
knee. After a second and third time, Gregg begins to awaken. It was all
Marek needed to get Gregg's head in motion, with instruction, "Great. Now,
spread yourself out. This is your first full-feature film Gazi. Make it
look and sound good!"

He didn't need a further cue, Gazi dropping his head back so the morning
shadow of the beard under his chin could be detected by the moving picture
in Marek's viewfinder.

"Sound?" Marek question.

"Oooh-h-h!" Gazi moaned, like his cock was actually being sucked, but Gregg
still wanting to awaken, but having trouble doing so.

"Cut!" Marek yelled out.

Slipping out from character, Gazi got out from underneath Gregg. He walks
over to Marek, asking, "Is that all?"

"Enough to keep Gregg from calling his attorney and... keep 'you and me'
employed?"

"Now I'm not sure."

"About?" Marek asks, standing there with the cam in one hand, the other
'freshening up' his lower anatomy.

"I think maybe you and me go see the man at Dungeon Lair Studio," Gazi
replies, looking Marek in the eyes.

"Y'know," Marek says, tearing his hand away from fluffing his bush, "I bet
you would look good decked out in leather and a whip in your hand?"

And music to Marek's ears, "I like paddling Gregg last night. Make his ass
nice and red... it make good target!"

"C'mon. Let's get showered and dressed. We're going to get ourselves an
appointment with Terry Lebeau."

%

Once everyone was in motion, Jean-Claude's place emptied out, leaving
Brendan to scramble to shower, dress and get over to Brookdell. He was
waiting on the call and as soon as it came he was jumping to it, fussing
over himself to shower, shave, smell nice, put on moderate dress, knowing
when he arrived at Brookdell Community College he would have to change into
college security code uniform.

Forty minutes after the call he was on his way, Mike Knight giving him a
lift.

"I could have taken my car, Mike?"

"What, and deprive me of driving my best bud to his first day at work?"

"Thanks Mike. I really appreciate all you've done for me," Brendan replies.

"You know how you can really show me?"

Brendan just smiled. He, as well as Mike, knew the days of them hooking up
for the sheer pleasure of man-to-man sex had become a thing of the
past. Rather than leave the issue dead-ended, Brendan asks, "So any new
prospects on the horizon?"

Driving along, occasionally cursing some motorist, rather than pulling them
over, Mike replies, "I've been by the new florist shop, keeping my eyes on
the place. You know, new place, there's always some bad dude casing the
joint."

"Oh really?" Brendan replies. "So, case the new owner?"

Not denying it, Mike says, "Nice looking fellow. I think I might check out
his tan sometime."

"Nice?"

"Very. Nice light, cocoa skin, hint of hair on his chest. Nice, soft lips."

"Oh, so you got pretty far?"

"Nah. Didn't do anything, 'yet'. But I can just picture those lips being
all puckered up and juicy, especially wrapped around my meat!"

Giggling, Brendan replies, "I thought you were looking 'beyond' the sex,
Mike?"

"Oh, don't get me wrong..." then he gets ticked off at the guy up ahead,
changing lanes, cellphone in his hand... "fuckin' dildo! No! If this one
thinks he fuckin' gettin' away with it!"

Brendan sways in his seat as Mike does almost the same thing, swerves to
the left, then right, siren wailing as he tails the guy in the yellow
Hundai.

"I'm supposed to be there at ten, Mike."

"Oh shit!" Mike replies as he pulls up behind the car.

"What? You know him?" Brendan replies, thinking it's the case.

"No. He's just so fuckin' damn cute!"

But as duty calls for it, work before play. As Mike gets out, Brendan
suggests, "If he's real cute, give him a warning." He's praying the guy is
like super-model quality, wanting to get to his first day on the job, on
time!

%

Walking in the front door of 'Lomberiou, O'Keefe & Finsterwalder',
Sebastien having been the expedient one in removing Jaime Quezada's name
from the roster, a matter of tiny white letters embedded in black felt,
Jean-Claude detects something decidedly different.

He didn't say a word, Sebastien summing it up for him, "I thought the place
needed a little holiday pizzazz."

"Pizzazz, huh? I'd certainly say so!"

Emre approached some of the garland, feeling the tingling nature of the
silver and gold strands as he remarks, "I think so much of myself I forget
it is a holiday."

"You're not the only one." And then, looking at the calendar hanging from a
wall of Sebastien's cubicle, "How long do we have, Sebastien?"

"Not counting today, nine days."

"Yikes!" Jean-Claude replies. "By the way, Sebastien, where did all these
decorations come from?"

Nonchalantly he says, "The party shop down the road. I took the liberty of
establishing an account for you."

"Thanks," Jean-Claude replied. He had a notion to ask Sebastien to refrain
from such practice, but in a way the holiday spirit had already begun
nesting in his soul, so he figured 'put it off till later'!

"Oh, but don't worry. I was real shrewd. I got everything half price."

He had it in mind to ask how, but since it wasn't offered, he let it
slide. Besides, he had a firm to attend to, so he set about the next task
at hand, shopping for presents!

"What's on the agenda for today, Sebastian?"

Around the holidays people weren't into buying 'buildings' or plans for
such, so all Sebastian had to report were people from charities calling for
handouts.

"Good. Handle it Sebastian. I'll be out of the office for the day."

"Hey J-C! Merry Christmas!"

Their paths haven't crossed for about a week, Denny and AJ stepping in.

"Merry Christmas, Denny-so-when-are-you-officially-back-from-vacation?"

"Oh," Denny replies, knowing it was supposed to be two days ago, "AJ and
me... we've had a lot to catch up on."

AJ, big bear-type steps up to the plate, "Yeah, we've been trying to get
things settled..." Then to Denny, "You didn't tell him?"

"Not yet. Been meaning to though."

"Denny and I... we've found a place we're interested in moving into."

"Congratulations," Jean-Claude says, extending a hand, turning it into a
hug for each of them. "So, where have you found a place?"

Glee escapes the two, Jean-Claude's smile subsiding.

A slight, quirky smile on Denny's face, AJ says, "I'll leave you to alone
to discuss the matter."

AJ escapes through the front door.

"Why do I feel like this isn't going to be good news?" Jean-Claude asks,
standing there with arms folded across his middle.

Of course Sebastien was eavesdropping while putting the finishing touches
on the office, watching as Denny unfurled his 'bad news', of their move to
San Francisco, AJ getting a better position with the company he works for,
really a 'move' or 'lose' your job type of decision.

"Denny..." Jean-Claude says.

"I know," Denny replies, the two moving together for a warm embrace.

Sebastien was almost drawn to tears himself, gazing from the ladder upon
the warmth shown between the two. He knows the story, how the two almost
came together at the inception of the architectural firm. So overwhelmed,
he found himself wiping a tear from his eye. He had to get out of there, so
excused himself, grabbed a jacket and said he was going for coffee. Nobody
even thought of the new coffee maker Sebastien himself bought on the
grounds of convenience and savings money, not having to run out for it!

So, coupled with his Christmas gift-buying, Jean-Claude insisted Denny and
AJ meet him later on for lunch.

%

Sitting in the Starbucks, Sebastien thought over and over about the scene
at the office. A couple of times in his life he had thought he was on the
brink of the same kind of affair, a friend or lover, set for life. But like
Denny leaving, it had always been the case for him. With his elbows propped
up on the table, he gently sipped his coffee. Then he saw something
strange. Here it was December, winter setting in, then some convertible
drives up, the top down, a surfboard hanging out the back. It parks
directly in front of the shop, a dude getting out. He smiles at the
stranger, whom happens to look into the shop, directly through the plate
glass window. Not one to pry into other peoples business, he couldn't help
to note the oddity, the board in a popped down car top, with cold weather
out of doors. It made him want to study the person responsible for this
eye-catching event. He saw him come in, but the 'surfboard dude' headed
straight for the counter.
 'Oh well', he thought and continued his people-watching.

"Hey, mind if I block your view?"

It was 'Mr. Surfboard-dude'!

Snappy with the remarks, Sebastien says, "Why? You think you're better
looking than your surfboard?"

"I think I'm okay, but what do you think?" he counters Sebastien's thought.

"A donut."

He quizzes, "Donut?"

"Uh yeah," Sebastien replies, "if you're going to sit here and get to know
me, at least we should have something to much, don't you think?"

"How do you know I want to get to know you?" Surboard-dude asks.

"Um, like look around."

The dude looks around.

"How many empty tables do you see?"

He answers Sebastien, sending a message, "Well there's an awful cute guy
over there with his girlfriend. Other than those two, it's pretty empty in
here?"

'Returning' the hidden clue, Sebastien replies, "Where do you live?"

"Down the beach, why?"

"I want to follow you home and have sex with you!"

"Cool! But don't you want to know my name first?"

"What's your name?" Sebastien comes back at him.

"Phillippe Marcel Martin-Voisine. Need for me to repeat it?"

"Nah. I'll just call you Phil."

He smiles, the blond's face lighting up like a gold Christmas tree, so is
the estimate of Sebastien, who is intrigued by the French beauty, not to
mention the surfboard hanging out of the Jaguar convertible.

"So do I get a name out of you or do I have to tie you to my bed and tickle
it out of you?"

"Hmm, I'm almost turned on enough to keep you guessing! But tell me, would
that be with my clothes on or off?"

"Skip the donuts and you can find out?"

"I'd like to take you up on the offer, but I've got to work," Sebastien
replies.

One question led to another and Phillippe finds out he works for
Jean-Claude.

"Not Jean-Claude Claude Lomberiou? My father and Jean-Claude are like
this!" he pairs up his two fingers.

"You better not tell Jean-Claude's partner of this!" Sebastien holds his
two fingers together too!

Laughing it off, Phillippe presses for a name, finding out, then offering a
ride back to work, which is two blocks away. However, in those two blocks
Sebastien scored a hookup later on after work, complete with a drive back
to Phillippe's family residence and a promise from Phillippe to show him
some of his skills at Shibari, better known as Japanese rope bondage and
some tickling!

%

When Jean-Claude got in his car he realized something. He hadn't a clue of
precise sizing any of the guys would take as far as clothing went. Even
with Brendan, he could guess a large shirt, but he recalled growing up, his
mother 'guessing' his size before checking and never trying on the perfect
fit at Christmas time, the disappointment, even though the toys 'fit
perfect'!

In a daydream, he start down the street till his eyes set in place on a
four letter word, 'bank'! It wasn't terribly busy, but if it had he would
have gotten the same, over-courteous his bank afforded, considering he had
millions stashed away and quite a few investment accounts. Even in this
economy he didn't have much to worry about, being he was one step up from
Trump, Stewart and Winfrey, all melded together.

As he sat there in the bank president's office, he pondered over the gift
giving. He wondered if he was being foolish, but then he began recollecting
the few circle whom had gathered in his life over the past year.

He had started out his conversation with, "I want you to do me a favor..."
from there, his gift to Brendan needed the services of his attorney. Good
thing he thought Sebastien was holding down the office, because he knew
this was going to take the better part of the morning, probably some of the
afternoon.

The beach house Brendan had seen, as well as the rest of the guys. He toyed
with the idea of having the 'home of a lifetime', something which 'just
came on the market', coming to the conclusion, if he didn't snatch up the
nine million dollar Colt's Neck estate, somebody else would!

And then, after the done deal, the office emptying out of his attorney, the
real estate firm representing the enormous-valued estate, other officials
and the bank manager, offering congratulations, Jean-Claude sat there in
his car sighing with a big exhale. He had feelings of excitement, but also
a little timid upon thoughts of telling Brendan. In a way he knew he should
have waited, talked it over with his lover, but on the hand time was of the
essence in sealing the deal. Also, on the seat next to him were
certificates, CD's in each of the guys' names, Kevin, Emre, Tariq and a
joint one for Denny and AJ.

A lot had transpired today, with thoughts of new friends added over the
past year, there were those of the departed, Jaime Quezada, then of his
lifetime friend, Denny, of those new to his life, Kevin, Emre, Tariq, even
Gazi, mere aquaintances, Aldo Barbagallo, Sebastien and some of the guys'
friends.

Jean-Claude smiled, thinking of all he had, but the most precious part of
his life was in the man whom he had locked eyes with, while returning from
New York City, via a major New Jersey highway.

%

Copyright 2009 T. Chase McPhee

`'December Lullaby - DECEMBER tis the season to be merry' may not be sold,
nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.

The more you stretch, the more you can fit in... 'spread' happiness!
TCMcP.....