Date: Wed, 31 Aug 2016 14:31:00 +0000
From: TCHASE MCPHEE <survivalgame@outlook.com>
Subject: ?JoLLy RaNCHeRs? 20

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"JoLLy RaNCHeRs" 20

WriTten by T. Chase McPhee


^   0   ^


%


"What the hell was that?"


It made Rusty sit up, which was not really the ideal thing to do, his butt
on Michael's lap!


"Oh. That," Rusty replies. "That's the new `get back to work bugle call'!"


"Sounded like an elephant in heat!"


"Really, Michael? You know what an elephant in heat sounds like?"


"Um. No. Not really."


There it was again, that boyish, pouty little voice of `sorry', Rusty was
getting used to. It was beginning to chime in like a signal, commanding
response with a sweet kiss!


Right in the middle of a sweet kiss, Michael's hand between Rusty's thighs,
checking on things...well there were reasons for a wakeup call.


Clapping hands, Marco was quite direct about the construction crew
assembling themselves back together again, "c'mon you hooligans, you've
lounged away enough of the money I'm paying you."


One thing he didn't count on, was Michael, still in the lounge chair,
obviously hiding `something' with both hands!


"I'm glad you told me about the bugle call," Rusty was still getting used
to, "dad?"


More obvious than Michael's bulge, Rusty and Marco stop, stare, before his
dad says, "feels good, having to hear you call me that."


Also on Marco's mind, was having any number of guys he's `interviewed' over
the past few days, drop to their knees and take care of Michael's sexual
pangs, which he knew came with `the bulge!'


Truthfully, Rusty didn't know whether he was feeling the heat of
father-to-son embrace, or what a gay-to-gay man feeling tended to be
like. Had he known sooner, Rusty would not have had so many wet dreams over
the town lawyer. Now Rusty felt kind of a `sick' feeling in his stomach,
with previous thoughts of bring down more than one of the town's men of
judicial action, town deputy, doctor, attorney, even the sheriff. Rusty
didn't know why he had these feelings, but it took the edge off of boarding
school, pictures in his mind of a certain attorney, falling prey to his
hard cock, on his knees and...


"What?" Rusty stumbles out a quick daydream.


It had been obvious, after Marco had talked up his new role at the ranch,
something about taking on responsibility.


Michael, thinking Rusty's sluggishness was about him, covers, "I suppose
you want me to get back to work too?"


Rusty had thought he already ironed this out, Michael sticking with him,
but he wasn't never really granted the okay form his father, so waited.


Turning to Michael, Marco says, "no more hands-on work for you. I have a
proposal to make, but I wanted to do it before the others got here."


In a giddy mood, Michael says, "it wouldn't be marriage, would it?"


Marco looks weird at Michael, laughing his ass off.


Rusty smiles, on the verge of giggling, saying, "don't mind Michael, he
gets a little off on his own jokes!"


Thinking about it though, Marco wouldn't mind getting off on playing with
those hefty pecs. It made his balls boil, thinking about harnessing the
energy of those perky nips. From what he's already seen, there could be a
powerful well of energy built up in those balls!


"Sorry. I won't let it happen again," Michael apologizes in the manner
someone else would easily forget a wrong, "unless I can't help it!"


All Rusty could think is, `what a cute little dingbat!'


Not which he didn't mind standing around, checking and rechecking Michael
out, from pecs to penis, Marco was almost saddened by `the others' showing
up, "here they come now," was his punchline to pull himself away from the
eye candy. He does turn back, glance down, then up to address Michael, "uh,
we'll talk about what I was going to talk about, later."


Of the playful `nymphs' splashing about in the pool, forced to up and
leave, grabbing up shirts, pants, briefs, socks and boots, Josh and Eric
remained.


Rusty, takes Michael over to meet and greet the others.


He was surprised to see some, from town jobs, first recognizing, "Deputy
Jack, hand out any speeding tickets to jocks, lately?"


Rusty had never really spoke with the deputy, except for when he was in his
preteens, having ridden Hoot down the road at unbelievable lightning
speed. He could not believe Deputy Jack was following him, lights flashing,
siren blaring. He talked himself out of a `speeding ticket', because it was
a town road, just by telling the deputy all that weight lifting was paying
off.


Leaning down to Rusty's ear, Deputy Jack says, "that's one ticket that
never got served!"


Rusty had wondered why he never had to show up to court with Hoot, nor had
to pay a fine, though pretty much guessed the facts as they stand,
"thanks. Why are you here?"


"Ask the boss," Deputy Jack nods towards Marco.


`Boss,' yeah right, Rusty thought. He was under the impression the boss,
was himself. Though he was glad no one was flocking to him, because
rightfully, he didn't know anything about being the boss of a ranch.


Michael had gone to dry himself off, put on some clothes, hide those
beautiful pecs from hungry eyes, "I'm back!"


A natural born humorist, Rusty puts the damper on it, "do me a favor and
not crack any jokes?"


"No problem," Michael `zippers up' his lips.


Smiling, because Michael is being a good sport, Rusty does a `fake zipper'
down his crotch.


"Mm-m-m!" Michael signals a sign of sudden hunger pangs, eyes white as
saucers, a slurpy licking sound making it more authentic!


Josh and Eric had gotten the signal from Marco, they were part of this, so
hopped out of the pool and disappeared to dry off and get dressed.


Looking around, not spotting them, Marco decides to get on without them.


There were a few Rusty didn't know.


One thing Marco had added to the agenda, the original plan to turn the
ranch into a lake and fishing resort, had fizzled, the backer changing his
mind.


Next on his agenda, he introduced key players; accountant, architects,
grounds planner, guest relations manager, medical staff, headed up by Jared
Frempl...


Rusty loved to get rowdy, especially when it was a hot man, like
Jared. However, was perplexed, "what about the hospital?"


"The offer was too good," Jared replies. "Tell you about it later," he
winks at Rusty.


The head chef, Antonio was introduced, along with 7 others and 2 potato
peelers from the `offenders' group! Then they left, lunch almost around the
corner.


Kira and her band of laborers were off, working in the victory garden, so
were not there to be recognized.


Onward, Marco talked about positions not filled, "so, if anyone knows of a
horticulturist, horse trainer, or anyone who knows horses, give Rusty their
name."


`Oh my god!' Rusty was stifled into sitting up straight, "you're giving me
something to do?"


It was another moment, Marco happy things were going right with him and
Rusty. They hadn't had that fishing trip yet, but in his mind he was still
planning the father-son get together.


Going on with business, Rusty turns to Michael, whispering in his ear, "I
might need your help."


That made Michael sit up to attention, as if riding a pole, "of
course. Whatever I can do?"


Thinking it too personal to bring up Michael's big ideas on how to patch
things up with his father, Rusty says, "just be you. That's all!"


Rusty didn't care if anyone picked up on his sweet affection for Michael,
giving him a peck on the cheek.


Marco still didn't spot Eric Merzou, so alerts, "Michael, do me a favor and
go see what's taking Eric?"


Rightfully, Marco hadn't met Josh yet, but for Rusty, it was the first
official person he had hired. As for Eric, he waited to see what all the
hullabaloo was about.


Outside the gate, which wasn't attached to anything much, but a stone wall,
the house `gone,' Michael looked all about, wondering what direction to
take.


"Eenee-meenee-minee-go that way," he chose to the right, knowing the bulk
of the rancher's live-in tents were that way.


With several bunk-style tents, they all looked the same. The only one which
stood out from the rest, made Michael smile. Much to his amusement, the
tent poles were rocking! He thought, at any moment, it would go down, lines
breaking loose from huge tent stakes, it caving in on itself. Though,
Michael had more than an ounce of the reason why the tent quaked so
violently!


He was disappointed when all the vent-flaps were down, which meant, if what
he thought transpired, it was mighty hot inside the canvas structure. Too,
he could hear the sound of springy cots creaking. It would be too much of a
giveaway, if he approached the tent from the main opening, so he twists the
flap of one of the windows, peering through a small chink.


Like he suspects, man-sex is going on, but what stifles his senses, `oh my
god! Eric Merzou is a bottom?!'


Now that made Michael drop his chin, thinking all along, this mountain
biker of the mountain biking world, so macho, he had to be a top! Quite by
accident, he voices his opinion out loud, "wo-o-o-ow!"


Cupping a hand over his mouth, he hoped they didn't hear.


Popping his head up, Michael stood erect, still keeping himself from any
further comment. Then, he thought himself in `really big' trouble, the wavy
dexterity of the tent, subsiding, "oh shit!"


With haste he tiptoes away, trying not to step on a branch, nor anything
which could give him away.


Back at the pool, Marco looks up, asking Michael, "well?"


Since the tent had stopped earthquaking, Michael figures, "they're on their
way!" He sits down next to Rusty. As it goes, with something so vividly
thought, he can't hold it any longer, leaning over to Rusty's ear, "I've
just learned something really horrible...Eric Merzou's a bottom!"


Rusty leans to Michael's ear, "and you would know this, because?"


"Well, I saw, but didn't see it all, some of it," Michael tread lightly on
the subject, "Josh ruggedly fucking him!"


`Fucking him,' came out a little two loud, everyone turning around to look
at the couple.


Marco breaks the chain of onlookers, "Was there something you wanted to
add, Michael?"


"Nope!" he smiles.


Rusty gave his dad a silent gesture, rolling his eyes.


Continuing, Marco tacks on, "I see. Well, as I was saying..."


About ready to continue, Josh and Eric appear through the back gate.


No apologies, they take a seat.


Still hung up on his glorified mountain biker's sexual prowess, Michael
whispers again to his boyfriend, "can you even believe he's a bottom?"


Instead of reply from Rusty, Michael gets a kick in the foot.


Rusty replies, "pay attention and forget about that stuff right now!"


"Why?" Michael innocently places a hand on Rusty's thigh, sliding it over
to...


To where Rusty slaps it off, again getting a tongue-lashing, "will you pay
attention and forget about that now? You're like, supposed to be getting
what I don't get?"


So Michael forgot about it. What could not be forgotten, was how masculine
Eric carried himself, in promo shots and on the mountain bike circuit.
Michael always pictured him as riding a dude's ass as if his mountain bike;
up and down hills, sinking into the valleys...then Michael religiously took
Rusty's advice, or else he would need to excuse himself from the table!


He was sure he missed some of Marco's introduction, because when he heard
his name called, all Michael could say was, "that's me!"


Rusty took up the slack saying in a muffled tone, "I didn't know you were
loaded?"


"Loaded?" Michael replies, thinking Rusty must've seen his lap!


"Money-wise?"


"Oh, that," Michael giggles. Then, after the reality of it sinks in, gets
more involved, personally, "hey, how did you..."


Marco knew exactly what was on Michael's mind, but if it hadn't been for
investigating the 20-year old's background, "your father has had a panel of
financiers look into the expansion of Cleg Ranch Resort and his decision
is..."


Michael never talked about him and his father, "forget it. I'll have no
part of him or his money!"


This was a first for Rusty, looking upon Michael as not a comedian, joker,
nor prankster, but so serious, arms folded across the middle, corralling in
those bulbous pecs.


Before he could say anything, Marco jumps in, "on the contrary, Michael,
it's not `his' money, but rather, `yours'?"


Marco hoped Michael would accept the proposal, based on having his own
stake on development of the property. It also came to light, not which he
was now opposed to it, his son having a relationship whereas he wasn't
about to be ripped off. On the side, Marco was happy he'd be getting such a
fine, muscled `son-in-law' thrown into the deal...being his old man was
filthy rich, it was a pleasurable side effect!


"Oh. My money," Michael cooled off a little, releasing those pecs from his
gated arms, dropping hands, relaxing, "I didn't think about it in that
way."


Little did anyone, but Michael, know this thing he had about pride. Not the
`gay' kind, but always wanting to be the man his father stood for, finding
his own way through life and amassing his own fortune.


Rusty's hand lingered, still soothing his boyfriend's thigh, and in a quiet
tone, "see, you got all heated up for nothing."


Then, suddenly, with his money going into the works, which also fall under
what he owned, he was sharing, "I feel kind of good about it, actually," he
places his hand over Rusty's.


All key people in Marco's cabinet were there, which he introduced first,
before they gave their little speech.


Most important, was where the funds were coming from and how they were
spent, which is how Shane Dean's name was called out. In a slow, calm,
masculine, deep, rather sexy manner, he delivered his estimate on how much
the renovations would cost, "initial investment totals around the half
million mark."


Shane then took out a cardboard chart and with the tip of his pen showed
the breakdown. As he explained how that figure would be earmarked for
whatever area of the ranch.


Unfortunately for Shane, Kira shows up!


Walking right up to the chart, she steals it out Shane's hand, "I don't see
no fuckin' gardening money here?"


Marco looks to Shane, then Ricky.


"I don't even see the word, `garden?'"


Ricky was put under the gun.


However, Shane could handle his own affairs, fight his own battles, "first
of all," he roughly steals the chart back, right out of Kira's hands, "if
you intend on attending board meetings, you need to be a member of the
board, which you ain't!"


Jaws dropped. Other than Marco, no one has dared stand up to Kira, because
frankly, most of the time she was just a big bag of wind. She had no
understanding of corporate matters and more did business verbally, than a
legal paper.


However, they were shocked to see Shane stand up to her, literally, his
necktie flat again her boobs!


Marco gestured, `hmm', thinking in his mind, `Shane's bi'?


"You got a helluva a nerve!" Kira replies, lost for what to do or say.


"I know. Now get outta my face and have a seat, or go tend to your
daffadils!"


Since Kira could not conjure up something, she calls on family, "Ricky, you
gonna fuckin' let this monkey talk to me this way?"


The two usually sorted out family problems, but in this case, Ricky thought
it best he kept his mouth shut. It also helped, Jordan having to lean into
his ear, saying, `don't get involved.'


When Jordan said it, it was like Rusty telepathically knew what had been
running through his boarding school mentor's mind. He gets a wink from
Jordan, which produces a smile. Rusty remembers more times than he can
remember, Jordan giving him advice which proved tried and true, keeping him
on the straight and narrow path.


Ricky stands on her level, but sinks his butt back into a chair, "frankly,
I don't think it's my call." He names, "Marco?"


The reaction Marco gave Ricky, was an unhappy, `thanks,' which also could
translate to giving him `the finger!'


Truthfully, Marco didn't like to make enemies and especially a group of
women, elects, "I think it's a good idea to have the victory garden
represented," he wasn't too nice about it, "the board would be honored to
have Jude present!"


"Jude?" Kira's the one with the dropped jaw now, thinking it should be her!
"What-tha-fuck's wrong with me?"


Marco could be a quick thinker when he wanted to be. Too, he knew many
crafty angles at which to turn situations around, "well," he took to
nuzzling Shane out of the way, "I had all intentions of bringing Jude on
board as foreman of this ranch, but since `you'," Marco pounds her chest
with his finger, "took it upon yourself to elect her as part of your
`ladie's farming guild', and since she's being paid top dollar to do so,
what choice do I have in not electing her a representative of the board?"


Even though some of the words seemed to be twisted up into some fabricated
bullshit, Rusty thought his dad had handled that well. He loved Kira like a
sister, but sometimes he thought it good, taken down a peg or two.


Michael, he smiled, thinking other thoughts. He couldn't help himself,
thinking what a standoff it would be, pitting Shane and Marco against
himself. Daydreaming, he would love to be the one being `poked'!


>From a relaxed hand on Michael's thigh, Rusty's hand sinks inward,
discovering something, whispering loudly into Michael's ear, "what's this?"


"Oops!" Michael says, feeling a couple of fingers against his
semi-hardness.


Rusty couldn't help himself, which is something he's already
discovered. That sweet, innocent face would probably haunt him for the
whole time he and Michael were together.


Rightfully, the two had not had heated sex yet, but sometimes one feeling
was stronger than another.


Now, he was the one not paying attention to the meeting of the minds and
mindless, until Kira walks out.


"Not that we've settled that," Marco goes back sits down, "carry on,
Shane?"


Always in total control, apparently Kira had shaken Shane's train of
thought, "I think I've said everything I have to say, other than, if anyone
spends their paycheck before the next one, tell them don't come crying to
me for handouts!"


Rusty could tell some things about his dad. For instance, the smile on his
face, apparently something dastardly deviant!


For all purposes, Rusty could be right, Marco silently disagreeing with
Shane. There `were' those certain circumstances when a man could get an
I.O.U..


Next on the slate, grounds designer, Monte Vaccaro, whom received a welcome
of not only claps, but whistles from his fan, Rusty!


"Do I sense a crush?" Michael says.


Rusty calls it, "ridiculous, Michael! You can see he's at least ten years
older than us?"


Though, felt guilty, saying, being he and Monte almost having something
going. Then it bothered Rusty, like a double-cheat, but of the future,
never, ever wanting to cheat on Michael!


"Never bothered me," Michael sat there, snuggly.


"Oh?" Rusty interrogates, "what else haven't you told me about yourself,
Mr. Moneybags?"


"That I like creampuffs?" Michael laughs, as if they were alone.


Not only the evil-eye, but stern words from Marco, "are we paying
attention, over there?"


Whether Michael did, or not, Rusty felt a little embarrassed, all eyes on
him, the `CEO', "of course!"


Angry eyebrows mellowed out, Marco's glum lips turning up, cracking into a
slight smile, "carry on Monte."


Rusty was glad he and Michael chose to be at their own table. If they kept
their voices down, they didn't carry and conversation could be made without
someone eavesdropping, plus it help alleviate some of the `boardroom
boredom'!


"I can just picture what he looks like without the shirt!"


After awhile, business became so tiresome, Rusty was good with the
distracting conversational tone, "he does!"


"What?" it made Michael sit up.


"I told you about the loft, Michael?"


"I know, but you didn't say how much you two got it on, or off?"


>From a distance, Marco could have said something, but could see for
himself, how boring it would be for two guys who had never been through
corporate culture, sit through such tedious issues. Most of the time, he
was involved with court action, but there have been incidents, whereas
Marco sat in on arbitrary business matters. All that was required of him
now, was to be present. Marco didn't even need to pay that much attention,
wisely deciding to hire a secretary.


So, tagging along, Marco had Aldo on his right, Dave on his left. Both had
laptops open. Only difference between the two, whereas Aldo was a serious
notetaker, Dave opted to check up on his Facebook profile. With each check,
he counted the increasing number of friends, friends of friends, or people
he never met, like the picture of him taking the ice bucket challenge. What
set him apart from the rest, he was butt naked, wearing a jockstrap. In
front of his junk he held the bucket. Looking at the picture, anyone would
guess Dave exposed his family jewels. Most likely he disappointed a few,
but some would give him a like, solely on the originality, or the
possibility of them liking young dudes with big bulges!


Marco had owed Karl a favor, which the line-dancing cafe owner kept in his
`back pocket', for if ever he needed an attorney, `cheap!' When Karl's
nephews from back east, Tenafly, New Jersey, decided to come out west for
the summer, he made up his mind they were not going to live on easy-street!


The older Barklee boys, Ned, 25-year old, Zack, 26, were level-headed,
career driven individuals, fitting into cafe life. Dave didn't find his
niche there and didn't picture himself washing dishes. Besides, other than
his brothers, there weren't any other hot dudes working there, not until
the bartenders clocked in for happy hour!


Ned had already established himself as a nature photographer, traveling
some remote areas of the world, compiling photos into a deluxe edition
book. He's already found a publisher and a date for release has been
scheduled for late fall. He came out west to set up some shots for a
followup book. What he hadn't intended, was unearthing a project started in
college, now defunct, a book of nudes. Whether gay, or straight, he was
also good at getting straight dudes to do gay stuff, so most men fit his
agenda!


After securing a degree in business, Zack didn't want to stick it out
around home. Even though the community was `okay with being gay,' his mom
and dad weren't. Out of three sons, the father had hoped for a successor,
married, with children to carry on the family name. Zack saw it in his own
way, that someday he could become an involved family man, though his
parents were more keen on it being a daughter-in-law! Tired of the fights,
seeing every parental inaction as a dead end, Zack followed his brother
out-west, catching Ned right before he left.


Both brothers made it their aspirations, to be situated in jobs, raking in
the bucks, before getting tied up in a relationship. For now, their uncle's
business became their getaway ticket.


When the brothers found successful jobs, whether for the summer or
permanent, they emailed their cousins back home, broadcasting openings for
other jobs in the community. Thus, the oldest of the Barklee's, 27-year old
Sara, whom acquired the nickname, Sara-Lee back in high school, would do
almost anything to have a job, `out in the country'. For the rest of the
year she was a school teacher. But being new at it, Sara-Lee wasn't at the
top of the pay scale and really needed some supplemental income. Rightly,
she could have sponged off of her parents, but had a goal of being
self-sufficient in life. It seemed to fit Marco's agenda, hiring Sara-Lee
to take care of the kids, while the parents worked by day in the victory
garden.


Then there were the Barklee cousins, Steve, Owen and William. Owen, 29, had
been working as a corrections officer. Budget cuts and low man on the totem
pole, he put his resume out there. However, Owen didn't get any
response. Through his cousin, Ned, he was hooked up with Marco, who saw fit
that it would be better if the offenders program were `officially' run by a
person with experience, placing Owen as head of the program.


Unlike the rest of the family, even though Steve has a degree in
management, he chooses his business in the independent, private sector. Not
embarrassed about his business affairs, Steve keeps a low profile around
the others. He figures he's putting his business degree to use, even if
it's not the kind of job one would find in the New York Times. For the past
several years, he's lived in the city, attending NYU. None of his family
has ever questioned how he's made money during non-college semesters. Proud
of the business he's built up. Even one of his clients, a businessman,
hired Steve to accompany him on a business-related trip to Paris, posing as
his boyfriend. All expenses paid, included Steve picking up some acting
experience, dominant top, placing his client on a leash when going to
certain clubs. Shame it was a temporary gig. Not only did the salary put
him through college for a year, but the dude was a tight fit! Marco loved
Steve's resume and not wanting him too distant during the day, hired his
first ever limo driver and courier.


Uncle Karl was a loner, after being through a relationship, which his
partner had almost drained him of his resources, not to mention driving him
close to bankruptcy. He thought he would lose the cafe. With years of
drive, not only did he stay away from meeting up with men for the purpose
of establishing a new partnership, Karl dove into his business, building it
up to where it had once been.


He was thrilled to hear of Ned and Zack's answer to his invitation, coming
out west to their lives. Being gay, Karl never rightly did fit in with his
own family. However his solitude kept him able to save money and bring his
cafe back to the luster it once had been. Though, with time, the eatery and
western dance club had slowly started to cause a drain on his bank
account. There was only so much a person could do for the upkeep of an
aging edifice. Too, by day, the dance floor was the serving space, littered
with tables, only to be taken away for night time entertainment, line
dancing.


Though, it gave Karl a tickle, Ned and Zack packing tables away, lining the
walls with chairs, working with shirts off!


Week after starting, Karl, didn't hesitate to put Zack in charge, managing
the place. He hinted, upon his retirement, it would nice if the cafe stayed
`in the family!'


Ned and Karl had a long, sit-down talk, seeing his 25-year old nephew was
not into `cafe-work'. What he came up with, is a more creative side. Karl
was blown away, hearing of Ned, working on a photo book, assembling it,
submitting it to a publisher and with a date on the calendar for release.


Amazed, Karl just had to ask, when Ned told him about his `gay book' of
photos, "well, if you're needing another model, I look pretty decent in a
speedo!"


Ned thanked his uncle and said he would keep him in mind. Not which he
thought his uncle was trying to shove off the responsibility, turn him into
a slave to making sure supplies were ordered on time, delivered, the best
quality of foods stocked, place kept clean as a whistle, management of
employees and other duties. What was also cool, Uncle Karl didn't mind at
all, during closing hours, he and his brother walking around shirtless. One
time though, Zack had brought it to his attention, the A/C thermostat, how
their uncle was so `conservative'. Nope, Uncle Karl didn't mind it at all
if his nephews went naked from the waist up!


Karl had just put the brakes on hiring, when out of nowhere, to the other
siblings' surprise as well, they here a cheerful, gay voice, "What's up,
guys?"


Zack exclaims, "Dave, what are you doing here?"


"I kind of mentioned something to Uncle Karl?" Ned replies, adding a little
smile.


He never could get angry with Ned, Zack placing a hand on his bro's
shoulder, which really meant an affection bolder than a soft rub. Wanting
to do more, Zack says, "wanna get it on later?"


Coming out west, the very close, brotherly relationship, they were thinking
of making a new start. Not only leaving behind haters, they thought, since
there was `opportunity', the hiring of construction and other workers out
at the Cleg Ranch, they could stop being more than `suck'n'fuck
buddies. However, it wasn't working out that way. Ever since meeting up at
Uncle Karl's line dancing cafe, they've slept together. For one thing, it
was cheaper rent, taking the room Uncle Karl offered at his place. Even
though there was a twin bunk, neither could get used to the idea of
climbing a ladder!


Starved from family affection for years, Uncle Karl didn't mind at all,
running over and greeting another Barklee sibling, "Dave," he hugs both
nephew and backpack, "how was the trip?"


"Great. Your directions were good."


Not only directions, but concerning an erection, Dave sensed, if Uncle Karl
didn't break loose, he would certainly `need to!'


"Have you eaten lunch?"


The `black sheep' of the family, also the youngest of 3 brothers and a
sister, Dave didn't really have much of an interest in anything other than
fast cars and boys who drove them!


Unlike Ned or Zack, Dave didn't immediately come out, sneaking
around. After all, he was going on advice from a cousin, Steve, who came up
with playing it cool and not stepping on toes, until a person was
well-situated to do so.


It didn't take long before Dave got settled in. Having lunch was more like
a steak-smorgasbord, with all the condiments, fries and salad, which he
told his uncle he was not into rabbit food. Of course, adding a wink, Dave
was trying to communicate something else, but Uncle Karl didn't catch
on...on purpose. He was into the surface affection, a casual hug, but as he
was discovering with how Ned and Zack were such noisy sleepers, regarding
himself, he didn't mix family business with pleasure!


Uncle Karl cushioned Dave's day, by telling him to take the rest of the day
off.


However, Dave had stopped along the way, pretending to nap, while checking
out dudes at the highway service center. His last service center, he dozed
off, waking up as the sun rose in the sky. When he woke up, he found a hand
down his pants, something gluey sticking to his fingers, which reminded him
of the hot cowboy he spotted the day before!


Walking out to the parking lot, ready to drive home. What Dave had found
out, thinking he was going to be handed a job at the cafe, found Uncle Karl
had run out of positions. Instead, his uncle's friend had set him up with a
job at Cleg Ranch Resort, in food service.


Since arriving, Dave, with a nose for news, has found out much about the
town and the people who live there. One person, an army buddy of his
uncle's, Dave remembers Marco walking up the slanted parking lot.


It was not business hours, so Dave took the liberty of washing his
car. Already stripped down to shorts and bare feet, when Marco drove up,
Dave peeled off his tank top. The 22-year old knew how to be cunning.


As fate has it, Dave didn't need to flirt with his almost naked bod, his
uncle cluing Marco in on another relative about to hit town. However, Dave
was thrilled to find out his uncle's idea, instead of cooped up at the
cafe, he was to be working in the middle of a wilderness. He thought it
also a great pleasure meeting such a handsome friend of his uncles!


He wasn't too keen on the job, food service amounting to washing dishes,
but the smell of pine sure was welcome over air pollution of a big city. If
he didn't head out west, surely he would have had to work in his father's
business, which meant taking mass transit into the city.


While washing his car, employees began entering the lot, parking, walking
past him, entering the cafe. There were some girls who thought he was real
cute. He could tell by them chatting each other up and giggling!


Also, some cowboys, dudes with straw or leather hats, whom just said `hi',
but Dave could tell they really wanted to give him a hug or more!


The last employee to walk by, was kind of butch, told Dave he didn't look
like he fit in, wearing a baseball cap. He thanked her, thinking back to
every dude and dudette passing by, a cowboy hat on their head. Logic, if he
ever intended on fitting in, in more ways than one, he'd have to get
himself one of them hats!


After doing a meticulous job of washing and drying every water bead off his
car, Dave returned to the cafe. Stepping inside, the place was abuzz with
workers scurrying about.


"Wow, what's happening?" he notices dudes, bringing tables out, unfolding
them, setting them in place.


The dude closest to him, sets a chair at the table and with a hand on it,
studies Dave, "at night it's a dance club, but during the day, converted to
a cafe."


Dave remembered this one dude, being the only one who not only said
`hello', entering the cafe, "you're Richard, right?"


"Uh, yeah," Rick replies. However, when he really wants to get friendly
with a guy, "but you can call me Rick."


"Cool," Dave adds a smile, "uh, my real name's `David', but they call me
`Dave.'"


Pausing, each flashed smiles, until Ned comes over and acting like a
wise-ass, "hey Dave, if you want to get friendly with the help, you need to
do it on your own time?"


He could be just as combative when it came to throwing stabs, "looks like
Rick needs a break?"


Before walking away, Ned says, "you've got 5 minutes, Rick!"


"10!" Dave yells.


"Whatever," Ned waves, not paying attention.


They walked around outside, to the side of the building, where it had
partially been cut out of the mountainside. There really was not any room
to park, nor bring deliveries through, so it remained the quiet, secluded
side of the building.


Call it a hint, Dave says, "I see all the guys working in the cafe, they
don't have shirts on?"


Rick, having his reasons, says, "uh, yeah. I guess it's a matter or privacy
or preference."


"Right," Dave says, hoping he could have coaxed the teeshirt off.


With not many other ideas popping in his head, Rick says, "so, you, Ned and
Zack are brothers?"


Dave had a feeling Rick was fishing for something, "yeah. We're very much
alike."


That could have meant a lot of things, "well, not which I was spying, but I
happened to come in the supply room one time and..." Rick pauses, not sure
if he should be minding his own business, "just happened to..." strongly
thinks it, "never mind. Probably none of my business."


When he said that, Dave thinks, "yeah, Ned and Zack are close
brothers. More so than me and them. Happens when you're the youngest in the
family."


With his back up agains the wall of the cafe, Dave just standing there, he
nonchalantly has been moving a fraction of an inch closer.


Soon, Rick thinks it's the weather and not Dave's bod throwing off heat,
"it's getting hot already. Probably going to be a scorcher today."


After having spent many good times in New York City, Dave knew all the
signs, like how a dude paced his words, making small chat, when in reality,
he wanted to hit on him. Too close for comfort, he confronts, "you work
out?"


"Um," Rick licks his lips, looking down the valley of their shirts,
"yeah. You?"


After peering down Dave's half-unbuttoned shirt, Rick certainly was up for
some liquid refreshment, wanting to taste that sweated, sweet, hairy chest.


The element of surprise always got to guys, Dave saying, "go for it!"


"Got for it?" Rick replies, staring at Dave's smiley face.


"Here," Dave's hands busy himself, unbuttoning his shirt, "let me make it
easier for you to lick!"


Dave played him, Rick playing along, running his tongue over his lips, like
he was as hungry as a lion.


Nervous, Rick says, "I really should be getting back. I think my 10 minutes
are up?"


In order to pass by Dave, Rick would need to move him out of the way.


Suddenly though, Rick felt like his back was glued to the wall, "but, you
and Ned being brothers, I guess you can explain it to him, or something?"


As it's happened in the past, Dave doesn't need to say a word. After fully
unbuttoning his shirt, he sits on the curves of his shoulders, unveiling
what Rick has lusted over, a full pallet of medium brown hair.


An early bloomer, Dave had started getting some chest fuzz when he was
17. Same time, a finger found a happy trail setting in. Call it a fetish,
Dave loves his manly fur. In just a year, that scant amount of chest hair
has blossomed, fanning out, seemingly crafted to end at the bottom of each
pec. One day he did notice a stripe forming, from chest to navel and in his
20's trail has gotten thicker and darker. With a stomach swath, the trail
is darker than the rest. Having taken up weight lifting, his sixpack now
has this thick, dark line separating it. Dave thinks of it as a big
attraction, guys loving to run their hands over it all, lick it, digging
their tongues in his bellyhole, running it up the hairy path, running a tip
of tongue around his hairy nips. A true top, who wants what he wants, he
loves ordering a hot bottom around. A couple of times, while at a gay club,
he's even had 2 boys vying for his cock. It was a reason why Dave liked
dudes who lived in the city, a place to go for 2, 3 or 4 guys to go. With
more than one to service him, Dave was quick to order who was on his shaft,
while the other 2 tongued his balls or ass. A fourth, Dave put him to work
on his nips and armpits. Yup, in the city, Dave knew how to manipulate
club-goers.


"Why don't we start here?" Dave moves in for a kiss.


Rick couldn't get a word in, not that, after Dave's tongue play with his,
he wanted it to stop!


Before very long, Dave's hands, which had been feeling up Rick's abs, he
lifts them upward.


"Uh, no...I mean, I..."


Rick had hesitated, broken off the French-kissing, grabbing at his shirt
with two hands, pulling it back down from where Dave had lifted it past his
chest.


Guys were guys, which sometimes they were ready for hot sex, or wanted to
take it slow. Dave understood this, though not without rationalizing,
"fine. Maybe another time."


Call it a wanting, Rick didn't really want it to end there and it's not
that he was keeping tabs on break time, "sorry. It's not you. It's me."


Dave has already heard this excuse, which prompts him to say, "let me
guess. This is your first time with a guy and you don't really know if
you're gay?"


Neither was true, far from the truth, "uh...no. I mean, you're not my first
guy and...yeah, I'm gay, but there's more."


"Bi?" which Dave didn't have much faith in that excuse.


"No, um..."


"Okay," Dave recollects, backing off, "we can take it slow."


That wasn't it either, but Rick allowed it to be his excuse, "yeah, I think
that's I need to do."


"Fine," Dave replies, bending over to pick up the cowboy hat which fell off
Rick's head when he moved in for the kiss, "but can you tell me where I can
get one of these?"


>From an embarrassed kind of attitude, Rick cracks a smile, when Dave
places his hat back on his head, "probably you can find something at the
Trading Post?"


Shrugging shoulders, Dave exercises his right of being brother to the boss,
"cool, show me."


"Take you there? But, I've got to get back..." Rick points his thumb
towards the side of the cafe.


"If you gotta," Dave replies.


However, Rick never expected, Dave to `pull rank' and get him off for the
rest of the day. He had gone back to arranging chairs around tables, but
mind and eyes, when he could, on Dave, talking with Ned. Then, a couple of
minutes later, Dave and Ned were walking towards him.


Approaching, Ned says, "Hey, Rick, I was wondering if you can do me a favor
and show my baby brother around town?"


Smiling, Rick was very cool with that, "um, do I still get paid?"


"Of course!" Dave smiles, like he's got it in the bag.


On the rebound, Ned's head slacks to the side, faces Dave, a look, saying,
`like, what the fuck?'


"Thanks, Ned," Dave's hand slaps his bro in the ass, "I knew I could depend
on you!"


Then, to Rick, "C'mon, let's go!"


Before Rick could comprehend anything, the pair were off, in Dave's BMW,
whizzing down the mountain.


"Um, better take it easy. If a speeder is to be found, the cops will find
them," Rick warns.


Dave, having liked Rick from when he first introduced himself as `Richard',
does slow, "thanks for the tip," he slaps Rick's thigh!


For all intensive reasoning, it might as well have between Rick's thighs!


"It's right on main street, at the other end of town."


Wise guy, flirting, or being funny, Dave says, "I think I saw it on my way
into town. Uh, does the trading post have a sign on the front, reading,
`Trading Post', by chance?"


Rick wasn't paying too much attention to Dave's driving, but his eyes
caught in the balance of where Dave hadn't buttoned up his shirt. Catching
some words, he nods, "uh, yeah, that's the place."


A veteran troller of the city, Dave knew, without turning his head, Rick's
eyes stray his way. Twice he tried to `naturally' move his shirt
aside. First, opening the window, blew his shirt to the side, revealing
`fur' and wrinkled up stomach. Second try, he reaches over a shoulder, down
his back, making like scratching an itch, which would give the viewer a
glance of his thick, hairy pit. If not picking up on the tuft, at least
Rick could get a side profile.


Much to his surprise though, Rick says, "it's working!"


Even though he was going only 3 mph on the lightly trafficked main drag,
Dave's foot on the break gave both a little jolt, "what's working?"


Smiling, looking at Dave with his shades, "too bad we're in traffic, or
else I might follow your lead and have my face fall in your lap?"


Knowing he had been had, Dave says, "oh really...I thought you were into
licking my furry abs?"


Thinking about what he liked, compared to what someone else could, Rick
imparts, "me? I'm into almost everything and anything!"


That messed with Dave's mind. Around just about every squared off corner of
New York City, there was something zany going on in the gay community,
which has him saying, "you ever been to Folsom?"


"Nope," Rick has the wrong impression, "can't say that I have, but I took
the long route here and passed through Cody," he notices Dave not picking
up on it, "Wyoming?"


Good thing Rick mentioned it, Dave thinking of this one dude, Cody, whom he
`passed through,' "right," he makes like it's common knowledge, a fact
every guy should know!


It was slow going through traffic, starting and stopping, buying Rick some
time. Not to mention the luscious looking fabric of Dave's full frontal
assault on the eyes, he seemed to be a cool dude, "you ever been to Cody?"


"Um, no, I haven't."


"Nice town and plenty of places to roam. You into hiking?"


Dave wanted to joke, `not unless it was hiking my cock up between a guy's
legs,' but held off, because not all dudes had a one-track mind like his
own!






Finally traffic let up and they zipped up main street, pulled into the
small parking lot of the Trading Post.


%


Copyright 2016 T. Chase McPhee


"JoLLy RaNCHeRs" and developing segments of this story, may not be sold,
nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author, or
you will be forced to your knees.