Date: Fri, 17 Feb 2012 14:06:04 -0800 (PST)
From: Tchase Mcphee <survivalgame@rocketmail.com>
Subject: STReNGTH FRoM WeaKNesS 06

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.

%

STReNGTH FRoM WeaKNesS 06
WriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

"Hey, wouldn't it be cool if I could work here for the summer, Dean?" Scott
asks as they head out to the car.

"That decision lays with Gerard. It's not for me to say," Dean replies.

Louis said he was going to hang back and meet up with the pair later.

On the way back to the compound, Scott asks, "What do you do for fun?"

"What do I do for fun?" Dean questions, knowing he would want to say the
right thing. Of course, he would not want to admit to Scott, falling prey
to the sweet inhibitions of gay meetups around the compound, though he
limited himself.

When he came for his interview, `Robbie' was the alpha male of the
pack. Given the task of showing Dean around, he knew he left Robbie with
impressions of not being `easy.'

About the end of his first tour of the compound, after two times, Robbie
tried his `last ditch effort', "And here's the sauna," the top model closed
the door behind him and Dean. "Can get pretty hot in here, the control set
at the right temperature?"

"I bet," Dean replied, knowing something was about to commence.

Not depriving him of his intuition, Robbie says, "Whew! Somebody must've
left the control up!"

Sending a clear message, Dean says, "You can keep your shirt on Robbie."

He was all ready, both hands at the back of the collar, peeling his shirt
till it covered his pecs, back bare, then halting, "What is it about me you
don't like, Dean?"

"Nothing personal, Robbie. I think you're really a hot looking guy and I
don't doubt you have all the other right assets, but I'd like to think of a
guy more as something `long term'?"

Walking up to Dean, arms still tangled in his tee shirt, Robbie says, "I
admire you for saying so, but how about a quick jerk off?"

"I dunno, Robbie, I..."

"Okay. How about you take your shirt off and give me the satisfaction of a
hot man to jerk off to?"

"Persistent buzzard, aren't you?"

Dean didn't need an answer, looking down at Robbie's speedo.

They were a foot apart, hardly enough space for Dean to back off from
Robbie's free-roaming hand, "I don't think you can argue I'm not turning
you on, Dean?"

Sure he was hard, but it didn't mean he had to surrender himself or his
values. However, right now, feeling something else, he wasn't doing
anything about stopping, Robbie, looking down at the hand caressing his
balls through his jeans.

"Sure you don't want to get out of these?"

Clenching his lips together, it was like Dean was keeping his mouth from
uttering his true feelings, the power of touch overruling his mind.

He still looked down, Robbie busy unthreading the belt through the buckle.

"Hey, do you like '69' with a guy?"

"No," instantly came back at Robbie, mostly a reaction from not having done
it. Probably he could have 69-ed with Robbie, but the model wasn't turning
him on, except by the handjob.

"That's cool," Robbie replies, unzipping, saying as he went, "I love
sucking a hot piece of manmeat!"

"On second thought," after Dean had Robbie's intentions spelled out to him,
he grabs his zipper out of Robbie's hand and goes north with it.

"Are you sure?" Robbie didn't pressure Dean, too much, "Man, you really
whet my appetite?"

"Sorry that I let it go that far."

Robbie says, grabbing his shirt he shucked, "Okay, but don't blame me if
you don't fit in around here," he walks past Dean and opens the door.

He was dynamite looking, no doubt a nice endowment behind the speedo
wallpaper, but something about the attitude didn't match Dean's
superlatives of looking for a mate. As it came to pass, Robbie got his big
break, leaving the compound. He was dead wrong about Dean's lack of
accepting occasional sex, everyone getting along with him and respecting
his wishes.

As for Scott's question, instead dwelling on mostly a boring life, Dean
says, "You know, they've got a new miniature golf setup west of town and so
far haven't thought who might like to go with me to check it out?"

"Can we go after supper?" Scott swallowed the bait.

"If you eat all your peas and carrots?" Dean joked.

As soon as they walked in the front door, there was Jerric, upset to say
the least, "Hunney," he grabs Dean by the arm, pulls him in, "we got a
problem!"

"What?" Dean acts concerned, especially when it wasn't just Jerric, but
himself drawn into it.

"Gerrard. He makes you boy scout leader for the summer, but who going to
put muscles on our models?"

"Um," Dean thinks, "themselves?"

Flustered, Jerric responds, "All they will do is pushups on each other all
day!" he sends a message.

Dean had to admit, breaking down some barriers when coming on board,
outlawing sex in the lockerrooms, shower, as Robbie tipped him off, sauna
and cabana, at least on `his' time, when the models were supposed to be
working out. Doing a recap, he had to try to convince himself, he wasn't
the vehicle for setting things right. However he was unconvincing and knew
the next guy in his footsteps would need to have the same attitude.

"What is your idea?"

"Me, Jerric?"

Scott had to pee, but didn't want to miss out on the outcome of
things. After all, Dean was his friend. Maybe he could help him
out. Thinking about it, he made a connection, blurting out, "What about
Lorenzo?"

"Lorenzo, who?" Dean had mental block.

"Lorenzo from the restaurant, dah?"

"Oh right! Lorenzo."

With Jerric seeing a light at the end of the tunnel, "Who you speak of
Lorenso?" he presents to not Dean, but Scott.

"A waiter at the restaurant," and Scott knowing the physical play an
important part around the compound, "who is really a muscle man," though
Scott could not tell much from the uniform, but knew Lorenzo didn't at all
resemble Kevin James!

"Is he now?" Then turning to Dean, Jerric asks, "What you know of this
muscle man?"

Seeing it as a way out, Dean lays it on thick, "Poor guy. Has to wait on
tables because he can't get a job as a sports fitness trainer. You know how
the economy is?"

Jerric didn't know the difference, Dean playing Lorenzo up, "Well then if
he is this good, we must have him come for the interview! I will tell
Gerard!"

"Did you happen to notice," Scott says, "Jerric can run pretty fast?"

"Yeah, he's light on his feet when he wants to be. I think we have time for
a swim, before dinn-dinn. How about it?"

"Cool!" Scott went racing off to his room.

With one foot on the upper step, Dean hugged the banister and as if
speaking with Lorenzo himself, "Good thing we have Scott to solve all our
problems!" Half way up the stairs, thoughts turn to himself, "I hope he
wants the job!"

"Who you talking to?" Scott appears at the top of the stairs, all decked
out in Billabong boardshorts.

"You!" Dean says, looking at the fourteen year old, "I can see you're
liking your new wardrobe?"

"Yup." Squeezing by Dean on the stairway, "Last one in is a rotten egg!"

"You just wait for me. I'll only be a minute getting my swimsuit on," Dean
tells him, doing double time on the stairs. It's then he realizes, he's
going the wrong way, when he should be headed towards the `dungeon'!

It felt a little strange, mental attitude as if he was getting ready for a
hot date, his shirt off before he even got into his room. By the time he
got in the room, kicking his door shut, he had his pants unbuckled. Sitting
down, his pants split open, he shucked his sneakers. Standing, he looks at
himself in the mirror, smiles, just pleased he is him, but with a new sense
of self, perhaps happy he's been placed in the position of being Scott's
`scout leader' for the summer.

Freeing his junk up from brief enclosure, Dean stands before the mirror,
studying himself, but not from a man's checking out perspective. On his
mind, was, `great', he was going to be ushering Scott all over creation, a
part of his life, but would there be a let down at the end of the
summer. Too, if Lorenzo was being brought on board as trainer, what would
be his own outcome, once he was not Scott's `big brother'?

"Hey, Dean!"

"You scared the shit..." realizing it was Scott and the use of profanity,
nothing he could do about it now, "outta me." Turning around, `everything
he owned' could be seen by Scott.

Speaking his mind, not being able to help his true feelings, Scott says,
"Wow, you look cool, Dean!"

"I'll take that as a compliment. Mind turning around?"

"Why? I'm a guy and you're a guy. What's the problem?" Scott reasons.

"Because," Dean pulls the first speedo he sees from his drawer, "whether or
not I'm a man and you're a man, privacy `does' matter?"

"Okay," Scott seemed to get the gist of things, turning around. "Let me
know when I can turn back."

"You can turn back."

Scott turned around, a slight smirk, seeing Dean stuff the rest of his junk
into the tight pouch. "I've got a question."

"What?" Dean asks.

"Do you like wearing a speedo because," he enlarges both hands from a
baseball to basketball, "you like showing you are... y'know?"

Dean didn't lie, "I like wearing a speedo because they are stylish and
because it's the closest thing to wearing nothing, something you probably
won't understand until you're in high school. Now, what is it," Dean also
sent another courtesy remark, "you needed to tell me about, before busting
in here without knocking?"

"Sorry," Scott got it, "but it was so cool I couldn't help myself."

"What's so `cool'?"

"I saw Gerard. He says he is moving you upstairs to the room next to
mine. Isn't that cool?"

"Sure is... `cool'," Dean replies.

"I hope you're not going to be mad at me, but while I was there I told him
something else?"

"Am I going to live to regret it?" Dean asks, not too seriously.

"I dunno, but I told him you liked Lorenzo and you thought it was a good
idea if he took your job."

There could have been a lesson surrounding this, taking other people's
words and presenting them first person, but Dean cut him some slack,
because he felt Scott was acting out in earnest, "And what did he say?"

"He said Jerric already made up his mind and he had to stop talking to me
because he had to go dressed for dinner."

"Dressed for dinner?" Dean questioned, because unless it was some very
special dinner guests, it was slacks and tee shirts.

"Oh, Gerard says it's every man for himself, whatever that means, but he
won't be there for dinner."

"Well then, okay, if he's not staying home for dinner, as I gather, why
should we?" Dean says pompously.

"Cool! Can we go back to the restaurant for more pizza?"

Dean questions, "Casadio's?"

"Yup and then you can tell Lorenzo the good news."

"Wait a minute there," Dean lectures, "remember Jerric saying something
about an interview?"

"Oh, right. So Lorenzo isn't hired yet."

"You got it kiddo. Now, since we're going out to eat, I think we can skip
the swim. Mind turning around again?"

"No," Scott replies.

Perhaps Dean wasn't so wise to catch on, Scott standing there by the
mirror, watching Dean strip off the speedos, fluffing his balls up with his
hand. Then, it became known, Scott in his way to get something out of the
bureau drawer, "Excuse me!" he nudges Scott to his left with his left hip.

"How come you're not telling me to turn around and not look at you?" Scott
questions, sort of trying not to look.

"Why should I have to? I told you you're your own man. I can't tell you
what to do all the time. You have to rely on what's right and wrong and do
the right thing?"

Dean bends over on purpose so his cock and balls hang down. He was proud,
smiling a toothy grin, watching through the mirror, the fourteen year old
rocking back and forth on his feet, till his back was towards him.

%

Instead of having a car brought around, Gerard walks out to the garage to
select his own. Standing there, he fell into a reverie, looking at one
particular car, covered up. It was the first car he could afford, after
being kicked out of the house, finding his way to LA, working his way up in
the modeling business, a model himself for a short time, until it became
more lucrative to do the porno route. He smiles, thinking, `I could really
fill'em up!' as he handled his junk.

Taking a peek under the cover, half bent over, he looks up at the roof of
the garage, hearing a sound, like an animal dying. Instead, he discovers
moaning sounds, instead of dead, very much alive and with knocking sounds,
alive and kicking! He should have been on his way, with a call in to
Casadio's, Lorenzo waiting for him, but wouldn't you know it, curiosity and
lust clouded Gerard's mind!

Walking in on them, Gerard asks out loud, "Making your own porno video,
Jerome?"

With his 11c `very busy', Jerome utters, "Um, I can explain," but doesn't
do anything to dislodge it from his victim's ass chamber.

Looking down upon Jerome's trick, Gerard says, "I was wondering why the tow
truck was parked out front? Something wrong with the limo?" he directs to
his African-American limo driver.

"No," Jerome replies, then in a cunning manner, "I am picking up some extra
change."

Flicking the hardware around the wrought iron head of the bed, Gerard asks,
"What's with the handcuffs?"

"Uh, maybe I should," Jerome starts backing out, his glistening piece
reflecting off the dim overhead light.

"No, no. Don't let me put an end to your fun, but tell me..."

"The handcuffs?" Jerome replies.

His victim couldn't say a word, only muffles, but instead allow Jerome be
his spokesperson, the ball gag keeping him from doing so.

"No, just wondering why you have that thing in his mouth..."

Jerome's attention switches from Gerard's face to the loud sound his zipper
makes.

Intentional, Gerard lowers his zipper, then goes to his belt buckle,
"...when it could be the real thing?"

"Help yourself!" Jerome replies, sliding back inside.

He didn't want to gook himself all up, not with his dinner date waiting for
him, making light work of stripping off the dinner jacket, unbuttoning his
shirt, removing it, then the pants and briefs. He left socks on. Pulling
the ball gag out, Gerard doesn't leave room for conversation and
remembering the name on the side of the tow truck, "Suck it down,
Arnold... suck it down!"

Jerome corrects Gerard, says, "That's not Arnold. This is Arnold's son,
Kent."

"Damn good cocksucker!" Gerard says, kneeling with his knees to Kent's
sides, easing his cock in slow.

Fully benefitting, Kent puts his finest sucking skills to work, licking the
sides of Gerard's shaft.

All Jerome cares about, "Tight fit. That's all that matters to me!"

Sarcastically, Gerard, not a stranger to Jerome's broad 11-inch fuck tool,
"Don't give me that line, Jerome. Everybody's tight for you!"

Gerard loved the service he was getting. Originally, since he had a date,
he was into making it a quickie, but as a good blowjob can go, the bottom
doing a fantastic job licking, sucking and as Gerard felt the thrill,
switched over to dropping one of his ball sacs in his mouth, he forgot all
about dinner.

As for Jerome, Gerard complained he was going to get seasick, Jerome coming
`near', rocking the bed until the floodgates opened. He never made a habit
of lingering, plenty of customers available, Jerome getting off the bed,
picking up Kent's shirt, wiping off, getting dressed and leaving.

With Kent all to himself, Gerard slowly worked his way down the twenty-four
year old's bod, torturing him slowly with his tongue and lips. Shortly, his
bottom confessed to where the keys were and with taking the cuffs off, the
two frolicked in the sheets.

%

Entering Casadio's, Scott spying Lorenzo, pulled on Dean's hands, leading
him right there.

"Sorry!" Dean says to Gianni, grabbing two menus out of his hands.

Normally, Gianni would be in a huff over it, but after Dean and Scott left
earlier today, Giulio had a `family meeting', its purpose to alert the
family staff, to whenever Dean was in the restaurant, he was to be treated
with highest respect. Gianni happened to be the family member put to shame
for boldly accusing Giulio of having a new love interest. The patriarch of
the Casadio clan, while mom and pop Casadio were sequestered away in Italy,
it wasn't a provocative move for Giulio to slap a family member for being
fresh. That is, except for Gabriela. She got away with anything!

So, for Gianni to think, `fuck it!' he was sparing himself from the
possibility of another slap in the face, or maybe more, since Giulio
preferred to take the law into his own hands!

"Hi Lorenzo!"

"Hi," Lorenzo responded slowly, rising up slow. After seeing Scott, he went
right over the fourteen year old's head, asking, "What are you doing here?"

Since he addresses Dean, he answers, "Scott was hungry for more pizza. You
know how teenagers are!" He laughed.

It made Lorenzo smile.

"Since you know everybody, can you get some pepperoni pizza, like quick,
Lorenzo?"

"Scott, that's not nice. You wait your turn," Dean replies.

Scott replies, "Okay, it doesn't have to be quick," he smiles at Dean.

"That's better," Dean replies to the look.

However, Lorenzo takes it to heart, walking to the kitchen.

"Was I too pushy?" Scott asks, them sitting down.

"You shouldn't take advantage of people, unless they offer first."

Scott thinks about it, coming to conclusion, "Y'know Dean, I think it's
cool you're being there for me this summer. Maybe I'll learn how to be a
good person like you?"

"Strong possibility!" Dean replies, serious and not so serious.

"Dean, my good friend!" Giulio breaks forth. "It is so good to see you
again!"

Dean, dressed in a tank top, knew Giulio's loud voice was for his patron's
benefit, bellowing out as if on stage reciting Shakespeare.

"You too," he replies, taking Giulio's two hands in greeting.

Thinking he's being ignored, Scott says, "Hi again Guilio!" he holds up one
hand in a frozen wave.

Dropping Dean's hand, Guilio replies, "Oh hi there young man. Let me
see... you had a chocolate shake last time. Have you ordered another?"

"Nah, just the pepperoni pizza, but I would want again," a quick glance to
Dean, "please?"

Dean smiles, knowing it was for his benefit.

"Why of course. Anything you want while dining at my restaurant," he points
a finger, "you got it!"

"Really?" Scott thinks on it.

"I'll have a beer?" Dean cuts in on the action.

Gianni happened to be returning from ushering patrons to a table.

"Gianni, a pitcher of beer for this table," Giulio orders up, with an edge
of dictatorship.

Gianni stops for a moment.

Giulio gets adamant on Gianni, "Well, can we make it today?"

"You could," Gianni fidgets behind his back, bringing the apron forwards,
ducking to release from over his head, "if you got it yourself. I quit!"

Giulio just stood there, mouth gapping open, far enough to fit Jerome's
11c, his eyes following Gianni as he ducked into the kitchen, his head
turning on his neck. In a solemn tone, he says, "Excuse me one moment."

Snatching the apron up off the floor, where Gianni had fitfully thrown it,
Giulio heads to the kitchen with deliberate steps.

"What do you think he's going to do?" Scott asks.

"I don't know," Dean replies. "He can't fire him!"

Suddenly there's a loud commotion.

"Sounds like fireworks," Scott says.

"Sounds like more than that!" Dean replies. Thinking things might be
getting out of hand, Dean gets up out of his chair, just looks towards the
kitchen.

"You better go help," Scott says. "It sounds like somebody might be killing
somebody, huh?"

There were loud words accompanying the ruckus, but Dean nor Scott knew
Italian.

"Possibly," Dean replied. He didn't want to involve himself, but at the
same time, unless he called the law, Scott's whim might be coming
true. "What the hell!" he said, before rushing over to the kitchen.

Opening the door, it was Gabriela who welcomed him, "Oh Dean! Stop them,
please!"

A full raging war was going on, fists slinging. Pots and pans and food were
all over the place, probably the reason why Dean wasn't needed, when Giulio
goes skating on some tomato sauce, falling on his butt, Dean witnessing
Gianni's foot aiming right up the middle, between the legs!

"Hold it a second there, Gianni!" Dean throws his shoulder against Gianni's
chest.

"Yeah," Giulio gets up, "hold that son-of-a-bitch there. I'm gonna work him
over real good!"

Dean wasn't holding Gianni, had blocked him from pulverizing Giulo's balls,
but now was positioned as a shield. Sure, neither he nor Scott cared for
the snobbish attitude, but Giulio wasn't exactly at the top of their
charts.

An intermediary, Gabriela steps in, a huge salami as her weapon, a face off
with her brother, "Giulio, back off or else I'm calling poppa!"

Dean could feel Gianni breathing hard behind his back, waiting, both hands
stretched out.

"You wouldn't?" Giulio replies, loosing some of his facial expression of
hate.

It was a stare down as Dean slowly feels Gianni gain control of his breath,
watching Gabriela, right in front of him, wielding the salami, Giulio
intently staring into his sisters eyes. Then, like he was coming out of a
trance, he says, "You win this time, Gabriela." Not with actions, but
vocally Giulio lashes out, "You're finished Gianni. Get your stuff and get
out!" Giulio, grabbing Gianni's apron, wiped the bottom of his feet off,
ridding the soles of pasta sauce, but also making a statement, tossing it
in the pool of red.

Gianni had been thinking about this for a long time. He slowly started
sliding down the counter.

Dean senses it, turning around, saying, "You okay?"

"He's okay," Gabriela says, kneeling down, taking her apron up in her hand
and tending to a bloodied spot under her brother's eye. "This is not the
first time my brothers have gotten it on." Like she was the boss, "You
don't have to leave Gianni. Giulio, he has a big temper. You stay and if
Giulio give you a problem, I call poppa."

"No," Dean witnesses Gianni saying, "it is no good. Giulio and me, we never
get along."

"That will change. You will see as soon as the motel and spa opens. Giulio,
he will be in the motel business and you, I will make sure we run poppa's
restaurant."

Dean watches, the brother and sister huddle together, the tender moment,
but wondering the outcome, Gianni insisting he needs to leave. Why Gabriela
excuses herself for a moment, Dean asks, "You have a place to go?"

"Motel up the road," Gianni replies.

There wasn't much time for thought, Gabriela returning, a fistful of
dollars in her hand, saying, "You take proceeds from today. You let me know
where you are staying. I will get you more."

With the two hugging, Dean figured there wasn't anything else he could
do. Walking out to the restaurant, making sure he didn't track any sauce
onto the carpeting, he spots Scott, talking with Lorenzo.

"Lorenzo told me Gianni and Giulio were fighting," Scott says to Dean as he
sits.

"I see you got your chocolate shake?" Dean acts like nothing has happened.

Scott got the message, Dean not wanting to talk about it, replying,
"Yeah. Lorenzo's got connections!"

An excuse for not witnessing the fighting, Lorenzo says, "The ice cream bar
isn't located in the kitchen. Sorry I missed your upper cut!"

"Me? Nah," Dean swats the idea away, "I don't fight with fists. I fight
with words!"

Scott quizzes, "But weren't they shouting at each other? I could hear them
out here."

Lorenzo, speaking with calm, like his expression, "I think what Dean means
is, if you go at something without anger in your actions or voice, you
accomplish things without violence."

Dean turns right around, "Sounds like a bunch of bullshit!" he laughs.

"Oh thanks!" Lorenzo says, laughing along.

Scott smiles, but then asks, "Then you should fight to the end?"

Dean interjects, "You should try to settle things peacefully, but if the
person is coming at you with a meat cleaver, I think that would be grounds
to start swinging!"

%

On his way out, Gianni grabbed his bag with his laptop and a few articles
he carried with him to the restaurant everyday. For certain he was not
returning to the family home, even thought the villa they lived in was
spacious and chances were he would not come face to face with Giulio. At
least it was an immediate decision not to do so. Instead, he walks out the
front door and starts walking towards the motel, on the other side of the
parking lot. He wasn't paying a whole lot of attention to where his feet
were going. Stepping off the sidewalk to cross the entrance to restaurant
parking, he's tooted for jaywalking.

Looking up, he didn't get a stern reply from the man in the black corvette,
kind of apologetic, but still with warning, "Better watch where you're
going!"

He was two feet from the rolled down window, looking in to almost a black
interior, Gianni replying, "Yeah, thanks. It's been a rough day," he backed
up.

However, the dude in car didn't roll up his window, nor advance his wheels,
saying, "You work here, don't you?"

Being frank, Gianni replies, "Used to. Just quit."

Knowing something about Casadio's not exactly recalling each brother who
works there, Gerard says, "Then you must be family?"

Walking up to the window, bending in half, Gianni says, "Right. I'm
Gianni."

Gerard crosses his right hand in front of his chest, offering, "Gerard
Hansen."

"I know the name, Mr. Hansen," Gianni replies.

Thinking on it quickly, Gerard figured, if he was planning on hiring what
he knew as Gianni's brother, he would not really want to establish anything
other than a professional relationship with Lorenzo. With opportunity
calling and even though he's just shot a load down Kent O'Such's throat,
says, "Where you headed?"

"Motel up the road," Gianni nods over the hood of the car.

With a slight smile, one eyebrow raised, Gerard asks, "How about a lift?"

"I thought you were going to get a bite to eat?"

Gerard suddenly had a thirst for something else, "Nah. I was going to have
a meeting with a future client, but that can wait. How about it? Free ride?
No strings attached," although Gerard, after surveying the 5'11,
dark-haired man in the hoodie, even before he unrolled the window, hoped he
could negotiate some `attached strings', turning him into his own puppet.

Gianni walks around the rear of the corvette and gets in. He was straight,
at least what he led people into believing, but didn't mind a little gay
action. Reading Gerard like his favorite novel, Gianni says, "Okay, but I'm
calling the shots?"

Under the steering wheel, things were already too active to change his mind
about giving a lift, but either way, Gerard knew he would get his way, no
matter who called the shots, rendering, "Whatever you say, pal."

"I'm Gianni Casadio, by the way," politely offering his hand. He was good
at figuring out a guy, his business, greeting customers, instantly trying
to see how their day has gone.

"Gerard Hansen."

"I know."

"You know?" Gerard wondered in what way.

Not wanting to totally embarrass the man he knew as having life set for
money and other lucrative interests, he sheepishly says, "You told me when
you unrolled your window?" Though it was on his mind `pick me up'!

"Oh. I knew that!"

Growing up in these parts, Gianni always knew what went on out at the
Hansen compound, even thought of it as means of severing his relations with
the family restaurant business. It didn't phase him, a bunch of gay models
hanging out there all day. Sometimes he didn't care if a guy's ass or mouth
was on the receiving end when getting himself off.

"You can start driving," Gianni pressures.

Used to being in charge, Gerard let it rise over his head. For whatever
reason, different than others, Gianni was turning him on and using the
twitching of his cock as an indicator, like the needle on the speedometer
telling him he's doing 50mph, he backed down and listens, after saying,
"Thanks!" He sped up to 50, in no time, the throttle between his legs
driving up the volts.

From rumor, almost sure of it as being gospel, Gianni says, "I'm surprised,
all those handsome men you have out at your estate, you're out carousing
for one?"

Gerard sets him straight, "Remember, I had a client to meet?"

Gianni didn't forget, only made like he did, saying, "My mistake. I have a
habit of forgetting little details like that."

Digging, Gerard asks, "I know it's none of my business, but if you don't
mind me asking..."

"Ask anything," Gianni paved the way.

"Being a member of the Casadio clan, why is it you are seeking out a motel,
rather the family villa?"

"Moma and poppa, when they retired and went back to Italy, they left the
oldest, in charge of the restaurant. Frankly, I'm kind of tired of putting
up with Giulio's shit. If it's not me he's picking on, it's Lorenzo. A guy
can take so much. Besides, at 20 years old, a guy has to think about his
future, about college and stuff like that."

"You're not in college?"

"I dropped out after my first semester. I'm not exactly a scholar. I
thought I would take a coupla years and work in the restaurant, but not
under Giulio's dictatorship."

"I could sense that."

Gianni asks, "Oh? How's that go?"

"You. I sense you are more the take charge guy and with a domineering
brother, I can imagine a lot of conflict can arise," Gerard explains.

Before addressing Gerard's issue, Gianni says, "You make the next left."

"Sure. Fine," Gerard replies, but goes right through the intersection.

"You..." Gianni figures Gerard knows what he's doing, but, "didn't turn
left?"

"Were you headed towards the Desert Gulch Motel?"

"I was planning on it. They've got cheap rates," Gianni replies.

Indirectly answering Gianni's question regarding the low end lodgings, "I
never understood the name. There's not a desert within thousands of miles
of here and `where's the gulch?'"

After light laughter, Gianni replies, "I see what you mean. Still though,
it's the cheapest place in town."

Gerard says of it, "Yeah and not meant to put you down, also the
sleaziest?"

Gianni makes a come back, "Oh really? And how would know?"

"If you're thinking I've stayed there at one time or another, you're
missing the boat. However I've rescued a hot looking guy or two from out of
town, headed in that direction."

As they pull into the lot of Altan's, Gianni first shows recognition of the
highend lodging facility, then signifies to Gerard, his rumored knowledge,
"$500.00 a night? Why, when you can use your own bedroom?"

Pulling up to the valet at the front door, Gerard quips, "I never take a
first date home."

Gianni suddenly wasn't sure of this. He knew Gerard was loaded, but
wondered if he was going to have to go halfsies on the final bill. However,
his door was being held open for him and suddenly Gerard was no longer
behind the wheel.

"Coming, or changed your mind?" Gerard questions, waiting to enter, with
red carpet treatment.

Slipping out of the seat, a warm hand greets, "Need a hand, sir?"

"Thanks," Gianni replies, wondering if every guy in this town is gay!

"Nice place," Gianni says, his duffle bag being placed on a rolling cart,
probably capable of holding 2 tons. By the time he reaches the desk and
worried about accepting terms of paying half, asks, "I have a credit card,
if you need to leave one?"

"Credit card?" Gerard laughs it off.

Gianni wondered what that meant, but didn't question it.

They were ushered to their `room', Gianni finding out why Altan's rates
warranted $500/night.

"Your suite is all prepared for you Mr. Hansen," a Turkish man in his early
thirties opens the door, entering.

"Thanks," Gerard replies.

Surprised, Gianni looks towards one of the rooms of the suite, this dude on
his way out, saying in upbeat, slight accented Turkish inflection, "I have
placed fresh linens on the bed," Gianni caught the `singular', "new towels
in the jon, stack in the sauna and if you are requiring anything else?" at
this point, diving his attention between Gerard and Gianni.

He was new to the staff, Serkan introducing, "One of our cousins here in
the states to attend college. I have briefed Iskander, Mr. Hansen, he will
be your concierge during the course of your stay."

Directing more to Iskander, "And has my wardrobe been laundered since my
last stay over?"

"Um," Iskander looks to Serkan for that one.

"Everything smells clean and fresh, sir!"

Serkan was on his way out, doing just that, closing the door behind him,
which left Iskander with the two.

"Hot tub?" Gerard asks Gianni, taking off his leather jacket.

"Sure."

To make sure Serkan has thoroughly briefed their concierge, Gerard asks,
"Have you been briefed on how I like my drink served?"

He was a little nervous, but at least only in front of Gerard, Gianni
having wandered off into one of the other rooms. "I have Mr. Hansen,"
Iskander lifts his hand to his throat, tugging at a loose end of his bow
tie. Unraveling, it streams down his white dress shirt.

"And you're okay with it?" Gerard was fair. If a new employee showed the
least bit of reluctance, he would let him off the hook.

"Sure," Iskander undid the top button of his shirt.

"Hey, this is awsome!" Gianni comes out from his checking out the
accommodations. Before he left the restaurant, in a hurry to do so, he had
only put his hoodie on, so unzipped, it had a lot to show off in regards to
Gianni's frontal assault.

Turning around, Gerard couldn't see, but Gianni had full view of Iskander
checking him out. Stripping off his hoodie altogether, he asks, "You like
hairy Italians?" he laughs.

"You're... beautiful!"

Gerard put away his doubts. The kid was gay! Walking over behind him, he
put both hands on his jacket, "Here, let me help you out of this."

If Gianni was straight, he had a poor way of showing it, advancing to
Iskander from the front, saying, "Need help with the buttons?"

Frankly, if Gerard wanted more of the action, he should have been in
Gianni's place. The 20 year old made light of the buttons and nonstop, went
for the belt buckle.

It's then Gerard comments, "I thought you were straight?"

Iskander asks, "You are straight?" like he was disappointed.

With sarcasm, Gianni replies, "I don't know what I am. Can you cut me a
break here?"

Iskander asks, "Do you like to kiss guys?"

"I only tried once," Gianni replies.

Not suggesting, Iskander presents, "You need to try again."

Standing there, Gerard thought of this three-way slowly turning into
two. Taking a deep breath, he grabs his leather jacket and says, "Y'know, I
forgot I've got another appointment tonight?"

"Okay," Gianni just rolls off the tip of his tongue, his mouth too busy to
fully acknowledge. But before Gerard makes his final getaway, "Oh, Gerard,
thanks for setting me up with the room."

He wasn't one to hold grudges, especially where two young, hot guys were at
stake, smiling as he says it, "You have a week to figure out what you're
going to do, Gianni. If you can't find another job, come see me."

Gerard was gone before Gianni could thank him.

Taking his leave, he almost ran into Altan Yigit, forerunner of Altan's,
"Room is not up to your expectations, Mr. Hansen?"

Altan aimed to please, somewhat of a reputation, the owners, the Yigit
family, building their business on, regardless if it cost them a few extra
pennies of their own fortune.

Gerard has known Altan since they built the place into the highend facility
it is today, replying, "Three's a crowd give you any indication, Altan?"

"I know you don't want an old dog like me," Altan laughs.

"Sorry, I'm not into bears," Gerard smiles.

"Oh yes!" Altan slaps his hand against his rounded stomach. "I always
forget! Well don't you worry, Altan get room for you, if you wait five
minutes."

"The room's not the problem," Gerard expresses, "but the `amenity' which
comes with it?"

His first stab at pleasing, "You like Zeki?"

Borderline on becoming another Altan, hairy cub, Gerard doesn't really want
to offend another Yigit family member, but his stuttering, "Um," speaks for
him.

Throwing his hands together, like namaste, Altan declares, "I have new
chef. I know he is gay. He looks at all the guests, you know," Altan winks,
then giggles.

"Young? Cute?"

Eyes perking up, bugged out, Altan exclaims, "Like oh my stars! He could be
a model for you!"

"How old we talking?"

"Um, hmm," Altan clasps his arms over his belly, his eyes shifting back and
forth in the upper chambers of his face as if looking at his brain
operating, "Twenty-four, maybe twenty-five. He is fresh out of cooking
school."

To get an idea on the ethnicity, "Name?"

"Declan Kelly. Very nice young man."

"Irish?"

"Austrailian, but I suppose he started out Irish?"

Getting the feeling Altan is trying to `sell him', like damaged goods, "And
what's wrong with him?"

"Nothing!" Altan boasts.

"Then why are you trying to pawn him off on me?"

Altan replies, "Because you give me the love of my life years ago?"

One of the reasons, other than having tons of loot in the bank, Altan owed
Gerard for dissolving the contract of one of his most promising
models. However, he would not have done so, unless he sensed Altan and
Nicholas deeply in love.  As fate would have it, Nicholas aspired more in
the luxury vacation hotel industry, becoming one of the world's top experts
on the subject.

"Alright," Gerard caves in, "I'll take my chances."

As they are standing there, one of Altan's employees comes over to them,
"The Serpentine suite is ready, Mr. Yigit."

Leading them to the room, Altan, knowing Gerard is checking out the `ass',
"You want him?"

"Thanks, but not my type," Gerard replies.

A few employees emulated Altan's ability to keep himself in tiptop bear
shape!

Almost a replica of the finest suite at Altan's, Gerard made himself
comfortable, waiting for the chef. Void of anyone but himself, he made his
own drink, turned on the Tv, ran his finger up and down the library of
dvd's, smiling when he saw a selection which was one of his favorites,
"Guys Next Door!"  He smiled, seeing his favorite porn star's name, `Paul
Wagner', but it also pleased him, it starring the handsome Landon Conrad
and Cody Cummings. It set off a `man-demic', Gerard remembering the opening
party for `Cody Cumming Unleashed'. It made him feel hard!

After popping the dvd in, it gave more reason than ever to strip out of his
clothes. With the rug, which replicated some jungle beast, on the floor, it
cushioned his bare bod, laying down, planked on his side. After ten minutes
and more than a few strokes, Gerard was feeling the pangs of wanting to
come.

%

Back at Casadio's, Lorenzo was playing it cool. He was off for the evening,
but deliberately kept from crossing Giulio's path. It wasn't a tough thing
to do, being released from duty for the evening and with Dean and Scott
popping in, after some miniature golf, he never missed the appointment he
had set up with Gerard.

However, Dean brought up, "Strange Gerard didn't show?"

"He called and left a message at the desk he was tied up in something
else," Lorenzo replies.

Scott says, "I don't think I'm ever going to get tired of chocolate
shakes." It was a hint, after saying so, slurping the last dab from the
bottom of the parfait cylinder.

"You're going to put Gerard in the poor house, you know?" Dean jokes.

No joke, "Remember who you're eating with," Lorenzo rhymes, "You eat with
me, you eat for free!"

Scott pesters for another coupla slices of pizza to go with the shake and
gets his wish.

Sitting there, watching Lorenzo and Scott converse, Dean contemplates on
the rhyme, with a different approach to the meaning!

%

Copyright 2012 T. Chase McPhee

`STReNGTH FRoM WeaKNesS',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

%

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