Date: Fri, 26 Sep 2003 12:47:01 -0700 (PDT)
From: Niftyguy <niftyguy_30307@yahoo.com>
Subject: my summer job chapter 18

My Summer Job, Chapter Eighteen

Warning: the following story contains graphic descriptions of sex between
consenting adult males. If you are underage or do not wish to read such
materials, read no further.  If you have any feedback, please drop me a
line at niftyguy_30307@yahoo.com

Thanks a lot to all of the guys who have written.  I appreciate the
encouragement.

Note: Each new chapter in this series assumes the reader has read the
preceding chapters.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

It would be an understatement to say that Sam's revelation stunned me.  The
idea that Richard Gray was Sam's half-brother was so at odds with
everything that I had seen the night before that I just could not make
sense of it.  I sat there in disbelief, looking first to Sam and then to
Eric, trying to fathom what road could have been taken, what path could
have been chosen, that would have led to this particular destination.

"I didn't know how I was related to him when it all started," Sam said
quietly, looking at me with resignation.  "The first time I ever laid eyes
on him was maybe eight years ago, when I was thirteen.  I had just come
home from a friend's house on a Saturday afternoon, and I heard my dad
talking with someone in his study, someone whose voice I didn't recognize.
They weren't yelling, but I could tell that it wasn't a friendly
conversation.  I just hung around, waiting to see who was in there.  Maybe
thirty minutes passed before Dad came out with Rich.  I'll never forget
that first time I saw him.  I was just at the age when I was starting to
realize that I was gay, and even then I could feel the energy that he gives
off.  I know you've felt it too.  I stood there, hypnotized, and he looked
right into me as Dad showed him the way out."

"Did your father tell you who he was?" I asked.

"No.  Of course I asked, but he told me that Rich was just someone who was
looking for a job.  Actually, that was true, because my dad got Rich his
first job here.  You see, Dad has been a member here for the last fifteen
years."

"Your father is a member here?  Have I ever seen him?"

"No, he doesn't come here often," Sam replied.

"I haven't seen your father here since Rich took over the management," Eric
said.  "I never got the impression that he liked the direction things were
taking here."

"I suppose not," Sam said as he looked down.

My confusion was only increasing.  "How did you end up working here, then?"
I queried.

"That's simple.  Rich offered me the job, and at the time I thought that I
needed it.  And it was the perfect way to get back at my parents.  Look,
when I came out to my parents, right after I went away to college, they
both freaked.  I'm their only child, and Dad thought I was going to take
over the company he had worked so hard to build, and live the perfect upper
class life.  I guess that he didn't think that was compatible with being
gay.  When he started threatening to cut me off financially, I realized
just how dependent I was on them.  In my mind, I needed a job.  And then
one night I was out at the local campus gay bar, and this older guy, maybe
in his early thirties, came up to me.  He looked familiar to me, and I
guess me to him, because he asked if we had ever met before.  I didn't know
immediately, but finally I made the connection.  This was the guy who had
been talking with my father that day, maybe five years before.  I hadn't
seen him since then.  When I told Rich where he knew me from, he got a
funny little smile."

"But you still didn't know who he was?" I asked.

"Not at all," Sam replied.  "We talked awhile, and he told me that he was
in town looking for guys to work at Idlewild.  I guess that it should have
struck me as odd that he was recruiting for employees at a gay bar, but all
I knew was that this would be the perfect way to get back at my parents.  I
would go to work, all right, serving all of my Dad's upper crust friends,
carrying their bags and serving their food.  It was guaranteed to drive him
crazy."

"So Rich just offered you a job on the spot?"

"Well, not exactly.  He suggested that we go back to his hotel room, so we
could talk about what it would be like to be on staff.  I'm sure it won't
surprise you to hear that we didn't really do much talking for the rest of
the weekend."

"So is that when he told you that he's your half-brother?" I asked.

"Not hardly.  I'm sure he knew that would be too weird.  He just told me
that Dad had gotten him the job, but he didn't explain anything else.  It
wasn't until more than a year later, when he started pressuring me to do
things, things I didn't want to do, and I started resisting.  He's not the
kind of person who takes `no' for an answer."  Sam paused and took a deep
breath.  "I was sitting in his office, and he went to the safe and pulled
out two envelopes.  One was full of pictures, of him and me, in one of the
rooms where there's a one-way mirror.  I guess that he had someone take
pictures while we had sex.  The other envelope was full of documents, and
he pulled his birth certificate out, showing that my father was his father.
And he had a picture of Dad as a young man with a woman who Rich said was
his mother.  Very calmly, he told me that he was in charge of my life now,
and if I didn't do exactly what he wanted, he was going to send my parents
enough pictures so that they would understand exactly how much I loved my
long-lost brother."  Sam's eyes welled up with tears, and his voice took on
a hard, bitter edge.  "I've been at his beck and call ever since.  Whenever
he tells me to jump, I have to ask how high."

Instinctively, I went to Sam and put my arms around him.  We just sat
quietly for a few moments, as he leaned against me and let his tears flow.
Slowly, inexorably, I could feel my anger grow, sustained by Sam's hot,
salty tears.  I put my hands on his shoulders.

"Look, Sam, we're going to find a way out of this.  I don't know if you
remember, but way back, at the beginning of the summer, you helped me find
my way out of the box I was in, and I'm going to do everything I can to
help you now.  I owe you way more than that.  You helped me figure out who
I am."  I looked at Eric.  "But right now you need to get out of here.  You
need to get to someplace safe."  Eric nodded and stood up.  "I'll come and
get you when I know what our next move is going to be."

For a long moment I held Sam very tightly, feeling his heat, his sweat, his
trembling body.  I pressed my mouth hard against his, sealing our pact of
freedom.  And then they were gone.

How funny, I thought, that a man in chains could give another his freedom.

 . . .

I was surprised when the rest of the day went by with not a word from Rich.
Sam was supposed to work at the front desk that afternoon, but no one came
looking for him when he didn't show up for his shift.  Word slowly spread
through the staff that he was missing, and both Tim and Jay asked me if I
knew where he was when they came back to our suite.  I claimed ignorance
but truthfully told them that I was worried.  Finally, the next day, when I
had just finished cutting the grass by the athletic complex, Rich appeared
in front of me.

"Hello, Mike," he said calmly, looking as cool as ever in a pair of crisp
khakis and a starched white shirt.  He had rolled his cuffs up, revealing
his powerful, tanned forearms.  The dark hairs that curled over his
rippling muscles almost dared me to reach out and touch.

"Hello, Rich," I said neutrally.  "What can I do for you?"

He laughed mirthlessly.  "How do you know it's not what I can do for you?"

I squinted my eyes against the glare of the sun.  "OK, I give up.  What can
you do for me?"

"More than you'll ever know.  But for now, I have a favor to ask of you.  A
very important guest is here at Idlewild, and several members of his
entourage are arriving later tonight, around 8:00.  I would like you to
meet them up at the lodge and get them settled into their quarters.  If
they're hungry, make sure they have something to eat, and then bring them
up to the card room, where we'll be waiting."

I just looked at him for a moment.  Even with all that I knew, I could not
completely deny his animal magnetism, and I felt my cock start to harden as
I glanced over the bulge of his crotch and the way the drape of his clothes
suggested the muscles that rippled underneath.  Just his presence was
enough to conjure visions of what I had seen, the mesmerizing power of his
enormous erection, framed by studded leather.  I shook my head, trying to
clear my mind.  "I suppose I could do that.  I don't have anything else
going on tonight."

Rich's eyes narrowed.  "Yes, I suppose you don't.  Just so you know, they
really don't speak much English.  How's your Spanish?"

I raised my eyebrows.  "Hablo un poco, pero. . ."

"Not to worry," Rich replied.  "I doubt they'll expect a lot of
conversation out of you."

He started to walk away, only to turn abruptly.  "Oh, by the way, give my
best to Sam if you talk to him.  We're all wondering what became of him."

I held my ground.  "I haven't seen him, Rich.  And frankly, I'm glad.  I
was getting a little sick of his moping routine.  I don't know what the
fuck was going on with him, but I had put up with enough."

Rich looked at me for a long minute, probing deep into my eyes.  What was
I?  Ally or enemy?  Friend or foe?  Trustworthy or not?  Finally, he smiled
tightly.  "In my experience, it is a rare person who knows just how far he
can push the people around him.  And I don't think that Sam was that rare."

Inside, I was seething, but I tried to maintain my cool.  "I guess I'll
defer to your better judgment.  Don't worry, I'll be back up at the main
lodge at 8:00."

"Thanks, Mike.  I appreciate the help.  I promise I'll make it worth your
while."

With that, Rich turned on his heel and walked back down the path, leaving
me to ponder my next move.  Instinctively, I knew that I needed to gain his
confidence in order to find a way out for Sam.  I just hoped that I would
not have to make too many compromises to do it.

Four hours later, freshly showered and dressed in clean, crisp khakis and a
black polo shirt, I leaned into one of the big over-stuffed chairs in the
main lodge entry hall and waited.  Robbie, the main desk clerk who was on
duty, had already given me the key to our new guests' room.  I slipped my
hand into my pocket and touched the cool metal key.  What mysteries would
it unlock, I wondered.  Or would it just reveal more?

I was lost in thought when the main door opened and Idlewild's two newest
guests entered, followed by a staff member carrying their bags.  I
recognized them immediately by their dark, Latin appearance.  Snapping out
of my reverie, I jumped up and greeted them in my broken Spanish.  They
were a pair of contrasts.  Vicente Cruz, who was maybe thirty years old,
was clearly the one in charge.  He exuded confidence and authority from his
sturdy, well-muscled frame.  As we talked, he stood almost a little too
close to me, not exactly in an intimidating way, but as though he wanted to
establish that my personal boundaries were not entirely my decision.  His
heavy lidded eyes and slightly parted lips gave the impression of someone
who would be ready for any opportunities that came his way, or even that he
could conjure opportunities out of thin air.

Cruz's younger companion, Roberto Salinas, was taller, leaner, and younger.
If I had to guess, I would say that he was about my age at the time.  His
wide, dark eyes scanned his new surroundings, trying to take everything in,
and he almost seemed to vibrate with nervous, anticipatory energy.

"Vuelvan conmigo, por favor," I said as I directed them to the stairs that
led to their suite of rooms.

Once there, I showed my two charges around their rooms, and I tried in my
broken Spanish to explain the different amenities that were available to
them.  When I offered to take them to the dining room for some food, Cruz
shook his head and explained that they had eaten something before driving
up.  Hearing that, I suggested that I take them immediately to Rich and his
other guest, whom they had come to meet.  Once more Cruz shook his head.

"We must, we must, take a shower, and change clothes, no?" he said
haltingly in English.

"OK, I can just come back in half an hour, if that would be enough time," I
replied.

"No, creo que no, we maybe need your ayuda, your help."

"My help?  No entiendo."

"You see," Cruz said to me, before turning to Roberto and saying something
very quickly in Spanish.  Immediately the younger man began to remove his
clothes, as Cruz went to one of their bags, and removed a small, leather
case.  Turning around, he pointed first at Roberto, and then at me.  "Usted
tambien, por favor," he said as he began to remove his own clothes.
Slowly I followed suit.

Glancing over at Roberto as he slipped off his shirt, my eyes were
immediately drawn to his smooth chest, and the glint of metal that
contrasted so sharply with his olive skin.  As though it were a twin to
Sam's, a tiny barbell pierced through Roberto's left nipple, causing it to
protrude even more prominently.  The young man saw me looking at his
piercing and smiled as he lightly stroked the bud of flesh.

"Le gusta?" he asked.

I shrugged my shoulders and smiled back, not really knowing what to say,
especially given my limited Spanish vocabulary.  What in God's name was
going on here, and was there a connection to Sam?

After we had each stripped off our clothes, Cruz led us into the large,
marble-tiled bathroom, which was well appointed with both a tub and an
enormous shower.  He reached into the shower and turned on the spray of
water before ordering Roberto to stand in the tub.  The younger man quickly
complied, and Cruz opened his leather case and extracted a pair of
scissors.

I watched intently as Cruz trimmed the dark hairs that surrounded Roberto's
heavy, pendant cock and balls.  While the rest of his body was almost
hairless, he had a luxurious mat of dark pubic hair that quickly began to
fall into the white porcelain tub.  As the older man worked, he directed me
to hold Roberto's circumcised penis out of the way of the flashing steel
blades.  I gently grasped the fleshy organ and quickly felt the spongy
tissues begin to grow and harden.  Looking up, I saw that Roberto's eyes
were partially closed and his breathing was becoming labored as he
struggled with his desire.  His right hand roamed across his chest before
reaching his pierced left tit, where it paused to pluck and stroke and
strum.  Very quickly, Roberto's cock rose to full mast and began to buck
against my hand.  I could feel a trickle of slick fluid seeping down the
length of the hard shaft.

Cruz stood up as soon as he was finished trimming the younger man's hair
down to sparse stubble.  The older man had clearly enjoyed the work; his
own thick cock was now standing at attention, the purple cockhead
protruding from the fleshy hood that covered it.  I had to fight the urge
to reach out and touch the heavy organ, which seemed to emanate a palpable
heat.  As they stood next to each other, the contrast between the Cruz's
meaty, hair-covered muscles and the younger man's lean, now almost hairless
body was stark.

Cruz extracted a razor and a tube of shaving gel from his leather case, and
he motioned for us to follow him into the large shower.  Once inside he
directed Roberto to sit on the built-in tiled bench.  Reaching up to the
showerhead, Cruz directed the spray of warm water directly onto the younger
man, causing water to course across his long, angular body, drenching him
and soaking the dark stubble that shadowed his now fully erect cock.
Apparently satisfied that the stubble was sufficiently soft, Cruz moved the
spray of water to one side and, working quickly, liberally spread white
lather across Roberto's crotch.  Pausing for just a second, Cruz turned to
me, offering the razor.

"You want?" he asked.

My hand was almost shaking as I reached out to take the metal tool.  I
looked up into Roberto's eyes, and he nodded at me with an expression of
animal desire.  As I grasped his slippery, lathered cock, a low, guttural
moan escaped his lips, and he spread his legs open even wider.  Slowly,
tentatively at first, I began to drag the razor across stubbled skin,
leaving it naked and bare.  Watching me work, Cruz grabbed one of Roberto's
legs, held it wide and rubbed his own erection across the olive skin, using
the friction to pull his foreskin up and down the length of his cock.
Roberto's cock, meanwhile, which had grown to impressive dimensions,
positively quivered in my hand.  Instinctively, I paused my work briefly
and gently tongued around the circumference of Roberto's cockhead, enabling
me to taste the clear fluid that oozed out of the slit at the end.

"Ay, que rico," he said as he slowly exhaled.  He was clearly
experiencing very intense sensations, and I knew that I would have to be
mindful not to push him too far, too fast.

Slowly and deliberately, with great care, I removed every trace of hair
from around Roberto's cock and balls.  Wanting to be sure, I let my fingers
slide repeatedly across the slippery, lathered flesh, trying to locate any
stray patches of stubble.  When I was finally satisfied, I motioned for
Cruz to direct the water back over us, so that it could wash away every
trace of shaving cream.  The warm stream quickly dissolved all of the
remaining lather, leaving only the glistening, naked flesh.  By now my own
excitement was not inconsiderable, and I leaned forward to place my lips on
the newly-shaven skin.  Roberto groaned as my lips traveled across his
crotch, and he lifted his butt up and off the tiled bench, as though he
were trying to offer himself even more completely to me.

But we were not finished, not yet.  Cruz pulled me up and quickly turned
his younger companion around before using his strong hands to pry Roberto's
butt cheeks apart.

"Aqu' tambien," he said, motioning to Roberto's ass.

Eager to move on to whatever followed, I quickly grasped the tube of
shaving cream and lathered around Roberto's dark, puckered hole.  It took
only a few strokes of the razor to remove the few hairs that sprouted
there, and I then used my wet index finger to wipe away the remaining
cream.  This contact caused Roberto to gasp, and I could feel his sphincter
pulse under my touch, as though it were seeking something to hold.

"Ahora," Cruz said, almost as a command, as he took a seat on the bench in
the shower.  Roberto seemed to know what to do, and he reached out of the
shower to retrieve a small tube of lubricant from the leather case.  As
Cruz sat there with his hands behind his head, his younger companion knelt
between his legs and began to smear the sticky goo across the thick, uncut
cock that bobbed in front of him, while simultaneously fingering his own
bare hole.  Finally satisfied with his preparations, Roberto turned around,
positioned himself over Cruz's shiny cock, and, almost without pausing,
impaled himself.  Slowly, but very surely, inch after inch of flesh
disappeared inside of him, as he very deliberately exhaled.  It was an
amazing sight, and soon Cruz's cock was completely buried, up to the root.
The contrasts between the thick column of flesh and the tightly stretched
hole, the massive muscles and the long, sinewy limbs, and, most especially,
Cruz's hairy crotch and Roberto's completely smooth groin had my brain
churning with excitement.  I didn't even dare touch my cock, out of fear
that I would cum in an instant.  Instead, I reached down to touch the union
of their bodies, wanting to experience the heat they were generating.

Roberto was like a man possessed.  He literally rode Cruz's hard cock,
which caused his own to bounce wildly, up and down and back and forth.
Cruz, meanwhile, seemed content to allow his younger friend to control the
pace of their fucking.  Trying to get a better look, I knelt down in front
of them, allowing me to move in close.  All I could think in that moment
was that I needed to taste flesh, and I began to lick my way up Cruz's
hairy leg, stopping only when I reached his heavy ballsac, which collided
with Roberto's on each downstroke.  Tonguing, tasting, sucking, licking,
all I knew was that I wanted to make his balls burst, his fucking hot cum
boil over, squirt out, pump into this hot, tight ass, fucking fill it up
with hot sticky juice, and there he was tightening up, fucking groaning and
going for broke, and that fat cock was shooting a load into the deepest
part of that bare naked ass.

I think that all three of us were shaking after Cruz's orgasm, but neither
Roberto nor I had gotten off yet.  I grasped Roberto under the arms, pulled
him up and off of Cruz's still twitching cock, and pushed him back against
the older man.  Cruz understood what I was doing, and he reached around
with his brawny hands to hold his companion between us.  I quickly used my
arms to brace Roberto's legs back and, without missing a beat, plunged in.
He gasped as I bottomed out deep inside, and his eyes rolled back on my
first stroke out.  God, it was great.  His hole was hot, slick, and
velvety, and I pumped in for all I was worth.  In that position, I could
put my cock wherever I wanted it, and I wanted it everywhere.  It felt like
everything I touched was giving off an electrical charge, each one
threatening to send me over the edge.  This wasn't sweet love-making, this
was raw fucking, and I loved it.

Very rapidly we built up to a crescendo of sexual energy that I don't think
is possible to sustain for long.  You can try to think of the Pythagorean
theorem, the latest Wall Street scandal, or which brand of laundry
detergent gets your whites whitest, but eventually you're going to look
down and see your thick cock pumping in and out of his hole, or his
bouncing up against you on every stroke, and you're going to think those
nasty thoughts that put you just on the other side of the point of no
return.  Roberto and I got there pretty quickly.  At least I had the
presence of mind to reach down and stroke his cock just as I felt myself
getting ready to explode; I think we saw stars at the same time.

All three of us needed to relax for a bit, to regain use of our senses and
enjoy our post-orgasmic calm.  The warm water sprayed down on us, soothing
and calming, restoring our equilibrium.  Finally, reluctantly, we emerged
from the shower, toweled off, and got dressed.  My new acquaintances needed
to be someplace, to meet someone, and I needed to take them there.  I hoped
that the rest of the evening would reveal some answers.  I would soon learn
that my hope was not in vain.