Date: Fri, 13 Sep 2002 12:42:32 EDT
From: Tulsadriller7@aol.com
Subject: Tales from the Ranch, Chapter 8/?

Disclaimer:  The following story is a work of fiction.  If you
are offended by descriptions of homosexual acts or man/man
relations, please exit this page.

TALES FROM THE RANCH
Copyrightc 2002 by Tulsa Driller 7.  All rights reserved.

This is a story of men who have two common interests.  You will
see that they love the land where they live and work, but it is
also the story of young men who love other men and their coming
of age in a culture of prejudice and misunderstanding.  It is a
story, which deals with difficult and often disturbing issues
but, nonetheless, issues which must be confronted in today's
world.

This is a work of fiction and in no way draws on the lives of any
specific person or persons.  Any similarity to actual persons or
events is entirely coincidental.  This work is copyrightedc by
the author and may not be reproduced in any form without the
specific written permission of the author.  It is assigned to the
Nifty Archives under the terms of their submission agreement but
it may not be copied or archived on any other site without the
written permission of the author.

PLEASE:  In a perfect world AIDS doesn't exist.  My characters
have unprotected sex.  I hope you use proper precautions because
I'd like you to be around the read the last chapter of this
story.

Tales from the Ranch
Chapter 8:  Let's Try Your Place This Time
     One of the men, Michael, who worked at the Bar-W and was
somewhat the crew leader without being Dale's assistant.  He had
worked there since last February and was dependable.  Pat and
started in the spring and John had just begun working at the
ranch the day before.  Since it was somewhat hot that day,
Michael was working without a shirt and John couldn't help but
notice Michael's well-muscled chest and the thick black hair that
covered it.
     Neither of the other two young men knew that John was gay,
nor did they realize that he had discreetly checked each of them
out.  The previous day Pat and Michael had been driving the hay
balers and John was loading the new bales on a conveyer where
their foreman, Dale, bucked them on up of the stack on the wagon.
Since he was working behind them, they hadn't had a chance to
really look him over, but liked what they saw.
     Michael and Pat lived in a sorry-looking but clean facility
that had been the Starlight Motel in an earlier life.  John had
moved into a room there the night before he started working with
them.
     Their rooms were clean and rented by the week or they got a
10% discount if they paid by the month.  Rules were simple, no
loud partying and no food in the room except whatever they could
eat that meal.  Their sheets were changed weekly, however, they
did get clean towels everyday.  That was great since they were
usually filthy when going back to their rooms after a day like
yesterday and today.
     Michael had known he was gay when in high school.  Well, he
really didn't know he was gay.  He just liked to look at other
boys in the shower.  There were a couple of fellows in his class
who would jackoff with him from time to time, but they never
touched each other.
     Pat knew he wasn't attracted to girls.  He had gone out with
a couple when in high school and it was almost a disaster.
Rather than admit that they couldn't get Pat turned on, they kept
their mouths shut, much to his relief.  It wasn't until after he
found that he and Michael lived next to each other that he had a
chance to find out exactly why he wasn't attracted to women.
     He and Michael had gone to the movies together on Friday
night of the first week he lived at the Starlight.  After the
movie they went out for pizza and Michael ordered a pitcher of
beer.  Pat was not 21, but the waitress didn't bother to check
his ID.  Neither he or Michael were used to drinking and the
alcohol was more than either could tolerate.  The meal of pizza
helped some, but they both had a pretty good buzz when the left
the place.  They were in Michael's car and carefully made their
way back to the motel.  Each went to his own room.  Pat took off
his clothes and got in bed, but immediately the room started
spinning and he got sick.  He couldn't make it to the bathroom in
time and his bed was in pretty bad condition.  He cleaned up the
mess the best he could, his stomach still reeling, and dumped the
sheets in the bathtub, then filled it with water.  He wasn't in
very good shape and wearing only his boxers, he went to the next
room and knocked on Michael's door.
     "Can I crash in your room with you?  I lost my stomach and
had to put my sheets in my bathtub."
     Michael let Pat in and suggested that he take a shower
before trying to sleep.  "It will make you feel better," he said.
     At that point in time Pat would have consented to anything
to get to feeling better.  He went back to his room to get his
towel and decided that he should brush his teeth, too.
     Back in Michael's room, he stripped off his boxers in the
bathroom, not bothering to shut the door, crawled in the shower
and cleaned himself up.  In the meantime, Michael was sitting
where he could see into the bathroom and liked what he saw.  Pat
Burns was 19 years old, had completed a year of junior college
and decided to drop out for a year, either to save some money or
decide what he wanted to do with his life.  He was about 5'10",
muscular, probably weighed about 185, blond hair, blue eyes.  His
body hair was a darker brown and he was a cut 6-inches.  Michael
liked what he saw and liked the fact that Pat had asked to sleep
in his room that night.
     Michael Russo was 21, 6' tall, a very muscular 200 pounds,
brown eyes and lots of black hair all over his body.  He had a
62" un-cut cock, his family having been patients of old Doc
Hatfield.
     Pat finished his shower and in his state didn't think about
the bathroom door being open, giving Michael a good view of
himself.  He dried off, hung his towel over the shower rod and
stepped back into his boxer shorts.  Pat came back into the
bedroom area.
     "Thanks for suggesting a shower.  I feel a lot better, but I
need to crash."
     "Yeah, me too.  If it's okay, you take that side of the
bed."
     They crawled in and each pulled up the sheet, told the other
good night and drifted off to sleep quickly.
     Sometime later, Michael realized that it was time to "pay
the rent" on the beer and got out of bed to go to the bathroom.
There was a light in the parking lot that provided some light to
the room.  His task accomplished, he went back to bed and crawled
in.  His movement must have brought Pat to some awareness,
because as he settled back in the bed with his back toward Pat,
he felt him scoot in behind him and Pat's leg push between his.
Pat also pushed his arm under Michael's and wrapped his arm
around his chest.
     That got Michael's attention - quickly.  'Was this
deliberate or did Pat not realize that he was in bed with another
man?'  Not that Michael was complaining... he wanted this, 'but
what was going on?'
     He wiggled himself tighter against Pat.  Pat was more asleep
than awake and was simply aware that he was snuggled against a
warm body.  His senses were still somewhat dulled and although he
wasn't really sick anymore, he didn't feel real good either.  Pat
slept on, feeling cozy and warm.
     Michael, on the other hand, was fully awake and his senses
were ringing alarms in his head.  He was in bed with a sexy-
looking hunk that was curled up as close as he could get.  But,
was Pat doing this deliberately or was this because he was
asleep?  He didn't know how long they lay in this position before
he dozed off, feeling really good.
     Sometime toward morning, it was Pat's turn to have to pee.
He awoke suddenly, his chest against Michael's back and his arm
and leg wrapped between Michael's arm and leg.  'What was going
on?'  He extracted himself carefully and made his trip to the
bathroom.
     Pat's movements and getting off the bed made Michael more
aware of his surroundings and that Pat had left the bed.  He
stretched and settled back into his pillow.  He didn't have to
get up to go to work this morning and he had a headache anyway.
Sleep returned quickly.
     As Pat was peeing, he realized that he had been pressed up
against Michael.  It had felt good.  He was feeling better now,
but still wanted something... someone to cuddle against.  He
finished and flushed the toilet.
     Getting back in the bed, he was still somewhat 'out of it'
and without really thinking, worked himself into the same
position as they had been sleeping.
     About two hours later, Michael started to awaken.  He had a
hardon.  Then he realized that Pat was pressed against his back
and his arm and leg were intertwined with his.  He stretched and
realized that Pat's cock was hard and pressing against his butt -
on the right cheek.  'HHmmm, what do I do about this?' he
wondered.
     He lay there quietly for another 10 minutes.  Then he had an
idea.  If Pat got pissed off, too bad... he was the one that
wanted to sleep here.  He carefully took Pat's right hand from
his chest and moved it lower, wrapping the fingers around his
cock.
     'Ohmmm, that felt good."  He held Pat's fingers in place.
At the same time, he pushed himself back against Pat's cock,
which slid up his cheek.  This felt sooo good.
     Pat slowly awoke and became aware of his surroundings.
'UuNnnOo, he had a hardon and his right hand and fingers were
wrapped around Michael's cock.  His chest was touching Michael's
back.  What should he do?'
     The uncontrollable urge to stretch overcame him.  He hugged
Michael a little tighter and stretched his body, poking Michael's
butt cheek a little harder.
     Michael was thinking, 'This feels really good and he's
waking up.'  Determined not to let this moment pass without doing
something about it, he broke loose, turned to where he was laying
face-to-face, front-to-front with Pat.  His mouth found Pat's and
he rammed his tongue past his lips.
     Pat immediately wanted to break loose, but Michael's hand
had found the back of Pat's head so he couldn't move back.  Pat
wasn't sure this should happen, but it felt good and maybe in the
back of his mind, he wanted this to happen.  His ability to
resist this... if he really wanted to... dissolved at once.
     Their arms found their way around the other, their tongues
were in each other's mouths and their cocks were dueling for
supremacy... or maybe they were just rubbing on each other.
'This felt so good,' they both thought.
     About that time both their eyelids opened and they looked
into each other's eyes.  There was no sign of fear, this being
something they wanted to happen.  They kissed with more urgency,
rubbing their bodies against the other.
     Pat enjoyed the feeling of his lightly furred chest rubbing
against Michael's hairier one.  It felt soo good to rub their
cocks against each other.  They continued exploring the other's
mouth.  They were fully awake now; knowing what they were doing
and they both wanted more.
     Neither had any experience in man-to-man sex and the only
thing they wanted was release.  Their hands found the others cock
and between masturbating each other and humping against the
other, they both quickly reached the most violent, good-feeling
orgasm they had ever experienced.
     Breathless, they lay in each other's arms allowing their
breathing to return to normal.  Michael thought, 'So this is what
I've been missing.  I hope Pat enjoyed it, too'
     Pat was thinking a similar thought.  'That was wonderful.  I
hope Michael isn't mad and we can do this again.
     They lay entwined in each other, cum all over themselves and
the bed.  Neither wanted this to end, but it had to.
     Finally, Michael said, "Are you mad at me... because this
happened?"
     Pat hesitated.  He wasn't unhappy, he was elated.  "No, I've
wanted to do something like this for a long time... it was
great... and I want to do it again, too."
     They each had thoughts of relief.  'It was okay.  They
wanted to do this again.'
     * * * * *
     Not sure what one expected of the other, they finally
decided that they had better get up and take a shower.  Michael
asked Pat if he was hungry and he was.
     "Let's get cleaned up and get something to eat.  We need to
wash your bedding and mine, too.  They are messy... for different
reasons."  Pat agreed.  He went through the shower first while
Michael shaved.  Then they traded.  After they were dry, Pat
realized that he was going to have to go next door to his room to
get clothes.
     He debated about putting his boxers on, and then just
wrapped the towel around him.  His room smelled of stale beer and
vomit so he opened both windows to allow some air into the room.
He quickly got dressed, then swished the dirty sheets around in
the bathtub, drained the water and tried to squeeze out as much
water as he could.  They could ask at the office for clean
sheets, but they would be charged an extra $3 each.  Pat didn't
want to admit that he had gotten sick from drinking beer and also
didn't think that they wanted the manager to know about the cum-
stained sheets.  It was easier to take them to the laundry and
clean up after themselves.
     About that time Michael appeared at Pat's door.  He was
fully dressed in Levis and a t-shirt with boots.  "Are you ready
to go eat?" he asked.
     "Yeah, let me get something to put the wet sheets in."  He
finally decided to take the mattress pad, which was also soiled
and wrap the sheets in them.  Michael went back to his room to
get the sheets off his bed and decided his pad should be washed,
too.
     They got in Michael's car and drove to the automatic laundry
down the street, where they usually washed their clothes.  They
each had soap and change with them.  No one was using the
laundromat this time of the morning, so they didn't feel rushed.
They started the machines then walked across the street to the
Pancake House for breakfast.
     After they got a pot of coffee and gave the waitress their
order, an awkward silence set in.
     Finally Michael decided to break the silence.  "Hey guy, I
hope what we did was okay with you.  I mean. that it didn't freak
you out."  He was having second thoughts.
     "No, I've been wanting something like this to happen, I
didn't know how to go about it.  I'm glad you wanted to do it,
too."
     They both felt better, although they ate their breakfast
pretty much in silence, each of them thinking about what they had
experienced.
     Breakfast was over and they walked back across the street
and put the sheets and pads in the dryers.  Still more silence.
They both wanted to talk about this, but didn't know where to
begin.  Finally the laundry was dry.  Pat asked Michael if he had
any room freshener.  He didn't, so they stopped at the grocery
store and Pat ran in to buy something with a citrus smell.
'Better than nothing... better than some,' he thought.
     They each had other dirty laundry, but the problem with the
sheets had kept them from thinking about clothes they needed to
wash.  They could each get by for another couple of days, anyway.
     Each wanted to have the experience again that they'd had
that morning, but weren't sure how to communicate that fact to
the other.  They went to a movie that afternoon and sat toward
the back.  The theatre wasn't crowded and no one was sitting at
all close to them.  Tentatively they found each other's hand and
held it during the movie.  This was something new.  Although they
wanted it, they had no guidance as to how they should proceed.
     They slept in their own rooms that night, each wanting to be
with the other, but not willing to ask or admit it.
     Sunday afternoon they discovered that a room with two double
beds was being vacated.  The company the men worked for was
transferring them.  Pat found this out by accident and asked Al,
the manager, what the rent was for that room.  He found out that
there was a refrigerator, with a small sink, counter and
microwave in the room and it was $5 a week less than they were
paying together for two rooms and was a lot larger.  Pat told Al
to hold the room until he got back in a few minutes.
     He fairly ran to Michael's room and knocked on the door.
Michael was wearing only his boxers and although not hard, was
showing something in his shorts.  Pat told him about the room and
asked if he wanted to share it.  When Michael found out about the
refrigerator, he agreed.  They could save even more by being able
to fix their own lunches instead of buying them at the deli or
convenience store.  It was a good deal.
     Pat went back to the office to tell Al that they would take
it and wanted to know how soon they could move their belongings.
Al asked that they give him two hours to vacuum, clean the
bathroom and change the beds.  That was fine. While Al was
cleaning the room, they went to the grocery to buy some snacks,
sodas and things they would need to fix their lunches.  They were
both thinking what a good deal they had fallen into - and were
also thinking about the possibilities this opened for more sexual
experimentation.
     Thinking that they were the only two "queer" people in town,
they kept to themselves with their secret.  There was nobody to
talk to who could give them guidance and they didn't know you
could actually find books or magazines that were directed to an
audience of homosexual males.
     During the summer, they became more than best friends, but
couldn't call themselves lovers.
     * * * * *
     Dale looked at his watch about two hours later and saw that
it was 6:50.  Time to think about quitting for the day.  They had
filled three big flatbed trailers with hay today and it would
probably take one more load to get all the bales.  Having five
people working made the day go smoother and more quickly.  He got
Al's attention, making a slash across this throat to indicate he
should shut his equipment down.
     Pat and Michael were both headed toward the wagon.  Dale
waved his arm, getting their attention and made the same sign.
Both went to the end of the row, turned their balers around and
killed the engines.  They climbed down off their seats.
     As they approached Dale, he asked if they wanted to work all
night.  Both smiled and shook their heads.  By this time, all the
guys were standing together.  Dale looked at John and asked him,
"Did we wear you out today?"
     John smiled.  "I think I had one of the easier jobs today.
All I had to do was start the bales up the belt.  You were the
one that did all the hard work, bucking bales up on top."
     Dale said, "Well, I'm used to it and it keeps me in shape.
Since Mort made me foreman, I spend more time chasing paperwork
and ordering supplies than working with you guys."
     "Al, thanks for your help today.  You'll be back in the
morning, won't you?"
     "Yeah, that was our agreement, two days this week."  He
paused, "Wasn't it?"
     "That's right.  Tomorrow I'll look at the scheduled work but
I think we can use your help at least two days next week, too."
     Without saying anything more, the five men started toward
the pickup for the trip back to the ranch buildings.
     * * * * *
     Dale drove home in less than 10 minutes.  At this time of
the evening there was little traffic on the streets.  He was hot,
dirty, sweaty, tired and sore.  Then he remembered that he was
going to Craig's apartment to spend the night.  Suddenly he
perked up.  He hadn't had time to think about that all day.  Too
much work to do and four other men to keep track of had kept his
thoughts occupied.
     He started thinking about what he needed to take with him.
Work clothes for tomorrow.  Maybe he should take something a
little dressier in case Craig would let him take them out for a
bite to eat.  Oh yeah, he needed a toilet kit, shave cream,
razor, maybe some cologne, definitely deodorant.  A comb,
toothpaste, probably some extra razor bladesY
     Pulling into his driveway, he got out of the car and walked
up the steps.  Opening the flap on the mailbox, he took out three
envelopes.  He glanced at them.  Telephone bill, advertisement
from J.C. Penney's and pizza coupons.  'So much for winning the
lottery,' he thought.
     As he walked in the house he realized he hadn't turned the
window air conditioners off before going to work.  It was nice
coming home to a cool house.  He didn't think he should afford to
let them run all day when nobody was here.  He wondered if the
new crew quarters at the ranch would be air-conditioned.  That
would be nice, but would Marty spring for that expense, too?  He
might.  The Williamson's did a lot to take care of their
employees.
     He walked into the bedroom, sat on the end of the bed to
take his boots off.  That felt good just to get them off.  His
feet were hot from being confined.  He stood up, unbuttoned the
fly on his Levis, and dropped them to the floor with his jockey
shorts following.  He stepped out of them and scratched his nuts.
Without thinking, he brought his fingers to his nose and sniffed.
'Sweaty, didn't smell bad.'  He tasted himself.  'Not bad, he'd
always wondered how he tasted.  Again. not bad.  Hmmm, he'd read
that some guys got off on the smell of other guys' sweat.  Would
Craig like that?  There might be a chance to find outY someday,
if he was lucky.'
     He pulled his shirt off, then standing on one foot, then the
other, removed his damp socks.  He gathered everything up and
took them to the laundry basket next to the washer in the corner
of the kitchen.
     He checked the Levis in the dryer again to make sure they
were dry.  'Might as well give them another 5 minutes to make
sure.  That'd get rid of the wrinklesY not that it made any
difference.'
     Heading toward the bathroom, he realized he'd promised to
call Craig when he got home.  A detour to the bedroom, he picked
up the card Craig had given him yesterday morning.  He punched in
the numbers for Craig's apartment.
     RingY ringY "Hello?"
     "Craig?  It's Dale."
     "I was just thinking about you, wondering if you were home
yet."
     "Yeah, I'm just getting ready to crawl in the shower."
     "Wish I was there with you, or that I could be your
washrag."
     "Oh, and what would you do if you were my washrag?" Dale
giggled.
     "I'd try to get in all the nooks and cranniesY and orificesY
tee hee," laughing.
     "You're gonna cause me a problem.  I'm gettin' hard just
thinking about it."
     "Wish your shower was big enough for both of us.  I'd
suggest that you come over here to take your shower, but know you
want to wash all the dirt away and put on clean clothes.  We can
try out my big shower in the morning.  Okay?"
     "Okay."
     "How soon will you be here?  I can't wait."
     "UhmmnnY (thinking) probably about a half hour.  I've got to
go through the shower, then gather up what I need to bring with
me.  I want to see you, too, so as soon as I can get ready and
drive over there."
     "Well, if we stay on the phone discussing this any longer,
it'll make you late.  I want you here in person, not a voice on
the phone."
     "Okay.  I'll get there as fast as I can and not get a
speeding ticketY" (laughter)
     "You got it.  In a few.  Bye."
     "Bye, Craig."  With that he hung up.  All of a sudden he
felt really good.
     Dale went to his bathroom, pulled the shower curtain shut
and turned on the water so it could warm up.  He adjusted the
temperature, then crawled in.  The extra warm water felt
wonderful.  He'd like to stand here until the hot water ran out.
'What was he thinking?  He'd rather be at Craig's place and in
his arms.'
     Coming back to reality, he washed his hair, rinsed, and then
washed it again.  Before rinsing again, he made sure he was wet
all over, picked up the soap bar and lathered himself from his
hairline, around his neck and to his toes.  'God, that felt
good.'  Without opening his eyes, he retracted his foreskin and
washed his cock, then under the rim of this glans, rubbing his
finger around the inside of the foreskin.  That made his cock
twitch.  'Down, guy.  You're gonna get your turn a little later.'
     He picked up the washcloth and thought of Craig's remark.
'Hope you like this, Craig,' he thought as he rubbed the cloth up
and down his ass crack.  Another twitch in his cock.  He rinsed
himself thoroughly, turned off the water and proceeded to strip
the excess water off his body with the washcloth.  He pulled the
curtain back, then took his towel off the hook and started to dry
himself completely.
     Stepping out of the enclosure, he finished drying his feet,
then moved to the basin.  He looked in the mirror and decided
that maybe a quick shave was in order.  His skin had dehydrated
and made it appear that he had a lot more than a 'five o'clock
shadow' so soaped his face again, applied lather and with a few
deft strokes was smooth.  He didn't touch the new mustache and
was amazed that after only two days he could see it and certainly
could feel it.
     Dale brushed his teeth, applied deodorant and his good Paul
Sebastian Cologne.  Back to the bedroom, where he pulled out
brown socks, a pair of silk boxers (wondering how long he would
actually be wearing themY he hoped not long) and a clean
handkerchief.  He sat on the end of the bed to pull on the socks,
then stood up to pull the boxers on.  He was wondering what to
wear and decided on a light peach polo shirt and a pair of
chinos.  Pulling those on, he stepped into his brown loafers,
filled his pockets with his billfold and change, put on his
wristwatch, then put the clean handkerchief in his left rear
pocket.
     He realized that he didn't have a case in which to put the
clothes he would wear to work tomorrow.  Probably wouldn't look
good to the neighbors, anyway.  'Grocery sacks,' he thought.
Make it look like he was carrying in groceries.'
     He got a plastic sack for his toilet kit, going to the
bathroom and emptying the shelves of the things he needed.  All
that was left was boots, socks, briefs, Levis and a long-sleeve
shirt for tomorrow.  Better throw in another handkerchief and
bandanna.  That should do it.  He picked up a paper grocery sack
and stuffed it full.
     He was ready.  He turned off the air conditioner in the
bedroom, walked to the living room and did the same.  Dale looked
around.  He didn't think he'd forgotten anything.
     Okay.  Off to Craig's.  He was as excited as last night when
he was waiting for Craig to get to his house.
     He locked the living room door as he left the house and
dumped his two sacks behind the drivers seat.  Starting the car,
he backed down the driveway, dropped the car in gear and drove to
the highway, heading the opposite direction from the ranch.  Dale
knew the building where Craig lived.  The Carriage House was a
new complex and very up-scale.
     * * * * *
     Craig arrived at his condo that morning about 10 minutes
after leaving Dale's house.  He took the elevator to the 5th
floor and let himself into his unit.  He would have to hurry, but
he could still make it to his office for the 8 o'clock
appointment he and Don had with a new client.
     It didn't take him long to strip off his clothes and head to
his huge bathroom.  He brushed his teeth again, then washed his
face and shaved quickly.  He then stepped into the shower, turned
on one showerhead (there were four) and quickly showered.  It
didn't take him long to dry himself, groom his hair and apply
deodorant and "Aramis '900' Cologne".  He opened two dresser
drawers, pulling out silk boxers and black crew socks.  Quickly
pulling those on, he pulled a blue-oxford cloth shirt out of the
closet and stepped into a pair of beltless gray slacks.  He
pulled a gray and red tie out of his tie drawer, wrapped it
around his neck and quickly tied a Windsor knot.  Picking up a
pen and pencil, his change, billfold and putting on a tie clip,
then buttoning down the collar tips, he was ready.  He put his
wristwatch on his left wrist and the onyx ring on his right hand.
     He'd already had coffee and there was time to pick up some
rolls on the way to the office.  The three of them could enjoy
them with coffee at their meeting.
     Craig locked the condo and took the elevator back to the
ground floor.  His cleaning lady would be there today to change
his bedding and do the little bit of laundry he required.  He
sent his dress shirts to the laundry.
     Getting in his car, he drove out of the parking lot and
stopped at Winchell's Donut Shop to pick up an assortment of
donuts.  He pulled into his office parking lot at 7:55.  Not bad.
Forty minutes from leaving Dale's house.  AndY thinking about
Dale, he knew he would be getting ready to start in the hayfield
about now.  Woof!  Woof!!
     As Craig went in the office door, a white Cadillac Sedan
parked next to Craig's car.  Don had coffee ready and Craig put
his donuts on a plate.  Warren Collins walked into the office as
they headed to their conference room.
     The meeting went well.  Mr. Collins wanted to build a "strip
center" on 10 acres he owned between downtown and the building
where Craig and Don had their office.  He presented some ideas
and told them he had tentative agreements with three business
concerns that might locate there.
     They agreed to go measure the lot and talk to the zoning
authority to see what would be allowed in the way of a business,
and then check to see what easements and other restrictions might
be involved.  That would tell them exactly where buildings had to
be located, etc.  This would determine the size of the buildings
and how they would fit on the lot.
     Warren was a personable person and the meeting was easy.
They shared coffee and donuts while visiting about his other
business enterprises.  Turns out that he was a developer and had
not been at all happy with the architectural firm he had been
using.  Don and Craig had come highly recommended, by whom else?
The Williamson's.
     Don told Warren that he would have some preliminary
information in a couple of days, then would want to get together
with him and the potential leasers to determine their
requirements.
     Warren left and Craig patted Don on the back, giving him a
shoulder squeeze and congratulated him.  "Well, we don't have
anything in the way of requirements yet.  But, the recommendation
from the Williamson's company doesn't hurt, either, does it?"
     "No, but that really means that we have to work twice as
hard.  The Williamson's are easy to please and can help us, but
we don't want any complains going back to them, either."
     Craig said, "Point well taken, but things are moving well
for usY extremely well."  He grinned.
     "My aren't we in a cheerful mood this morning.  You're not
usually a morning person and usually act like you want to sleep
through an 8 a.m. meeting," Don kidded.
     Craig turned a little red.  "Well, I woke up earlier this
morning, so I've had a chance to clear my head."
     "Must have been pretty special to get you up earlyY"  Then
Don thought a minute.  "Oh, did my pal Craggie get lucky last
night?  Was it that cowboy you were mooning over yesterday?"
     Craig quickly replied.  "He's not a cowboy, he's a foreman
for the Bar-W."
     "If he looks like a cowboyY dresses like a cowboy, walks
like a Y"
     "Don!  His name is Dale and he's smart.  He has a brain and
good taste."
     "Yeah, he wouldn't need to have good taste to take up with
you."  Don was about to roll on the floor.  He loved to tease
Craig.
     Don and Craig had known each other in high school, but had
not been close friends.  Then they ended up in the same
architectural school and each needed help the other could
provide.  They became fast friends although Don was perfectly
straight, having married and already had two children.  Don knew
about Craig, but also realized that he'd never been out with
another guy the whole time they were in college.  It didn't
bother him, but he loved to tease Craig about the fact he was a
handsome young man and couldn't attract either womenY or men.
There was nothing but great respect for each other.
     "So, how was he?" Don laughed.
     "Absolutely incredible.  I think I've fallen in love after
just one date.  He's coming to my house this evening."
     "Well, that's great.  It's about time you found someone to
occupy your time instead of sitting at home reading every
evening.  SoY when do I get to meet him?"
     "Just don't push it.  He's nice, but shy.  He doesn't have a
very good opinion of himself.  Came from a lousy home, was a good
student, but his world is pretty narrow.  And, Marty thinks the
world of him.  He encouraged me to get to know him better.  AndY
I intend to."
     "Good luck.  You deserve somebody nice.  From what you told
me, don't rush him."
     "Thanks, Don.  I appreciate your understanding.  And, by the
way, that house he owns is in pretty good shape.  Try to see to
it that he gets top dollar.  It doesn't need as much fix-up as
you thought.  Dale's never had anything, and probably wouldn't
know what to do with it if he had it, but there's no reason to
cheat him.  I think he's a diamond in the rough and I hope to
draw him out and show him that life is a grand event."
     "If anybody can do it, you can.  You love life, but are just
to shy to do anything about it yourself.  I'm surprised you had
the guts to chase this 'cowboy'," Don laughed.
     "He's not aY"
     "Cowboy, I know," Don said.  "I was just trying to get your
goat."
     Craig hugged Don.  "For a straight guy, you're okayY most of
the time," Craig laughed.
     * * * * *
     The day progressed quickly and smoothly.  Don and Craig each
had several projects going and needed to consult with each other
many times during the day.  They were a good team.  Don was great
at thinking up ideas and Craig was the detail person.  They had a
good "CAD" program which made it easy to come up with designs,
save them, and then do a "what if" twist for clients.  It saved
them a great deal of time and effort, plus no one else in town
used a sophisticated program like that.  Their business was
growing and each envisioned having to hire an additional person
in another year.  They already had a part-time
secretary/bookkeeper.
     Don had a "junior membership" at the Lake Shore Country Club
and Craig had guest privileges.  Don was an avid golfer and Craig
could play well enough to entertain clients when necessary.  When
his parents were in town to visit, he and his Dad spent the day
knocking the ball around.  His mother usually insisted on
cooking, but Craig frequently took them there for dinner.
     All of a sudden it was lunchtime.  Craig wanted the evening
to be special and rushed around from place to place gathering
"supplies" he felt he needed to make the evening perfect.  He
just hoped Dale wasn't cowed by his efforts.  So, he purchased a
selection of cheeses and bought two bottles B a Merlot and a
Riesling B of wine.  He picked up some water biscuits and pickled
mushrooms, two kinds of olives, a small container of Pate, and
several other "cocktail hour" items from the gourmet store.
     Then he got to wondering if he was overdoing it.  He wanted
to impress Dale, but he didn't want to overwhelm him, either.  He
didn't think Dale would be embarrassed.  His bar was well stocked
with good liquor and there was several kinds of beer in the bar
refrigerator.  He thought to himself, 'Please let this be right.'
     The afternoon seemed to drag by, but still Craig had plenty
to do.  He finished up the sketches on the "crew quarters" for
the ranch.  Nothing fancy.  Marty just wanted it to be well built
and comfortable.  While working, Craig had another thought.
     He went to Don's office.  "How soon are you going to try to
get possession of Dale's house?
     "I hadn't thought about it.  I guess the sooner, the better,
why?"
     "Just doing some thinking.  The new crew quarters at the
ranch are probably 5 to six weeks away from being ready for
occupancy."  He grinned, "If you push for an early possession,
Dale may not have a place to live."
     "And what are you?  Manager of housing for the indigent? Don
laughed.  Are you planning on offering him a place to live
'during construction and ever after'?"  Don laughed heartily
again.
     Craig blushedY bright red.  "Just wondered," he said as he
retreated to his office.
     His thoughts were all over the map that afternoon.  He was
hoping this would work out with Dale.  He didn't want to push
him, but he didn't want him to think he was disinterested,
either.  What to do?
     * * * * *
     Finally, it was 6:15.  Don had left about 5:15 and Craig
finished his project, but hadn't planned to stay that late.  He
was ready to go home.  He retrieved the things he'd picked up at
the gourmet shop at noon, and then remembered that he'd promised
to fix lunch for Dale the next morning.
     Not a problem.  He wheeled into Best Food, which was about 3
blocks from his place.  Grabbing a basket, he headed through the
store to get some apples, cold cuts, bread, lettuce, cookies and
as an after thought, potato chips.  'What if this wasn't right?
No, he remembered what Dale had fixed that morning.'  Craig had
mayonnaise and mustard.  He was set.  'Wait, what about cheese?'
He remembered Dale had used sliced American cheese.  'Why not get
that and some Swiss Cheese, too?'  He headed to the cash
registers.
     After he got in his car and was heading home, he happened to
think that he didn't know what they were going to do for dinner.
They'd had pizza last night.  Best pizza in town.  He'd have to
think about that.  Would Dale feel like going out for dinner?
Where could they go?  Certainly nothing pretentious.  Didn't want
to scare Dale.
     This was going to be the date from hell.  Well, not the guy,
but trying to make it a nice evening and keep Dale from being
uncomfortable.  He wished he had someone he could talk to about
this.  Shame on himself for not learning to cook.  Dale could
cook, at least he said so.  Well, he'd have to think about this
and play it by ear.
     Craig arrived at his home, toting his sacks to the elevator,
and pressed the button for the top floor.  Getting off, he
unlocked his front door and went into his condo.  He knew his
cleaning lady had been there as she always used a good-smelling
furniture dusting spray.  He put his things in the kitchen,
shoving the white wine in the refrigerator and putting in the
other things that needed to be chilled.
     He went to his bedroom to shed his clothes and decided a
shower was in order.  But first he wanted to pick out his clothes
for the evening.  Like Dale, the night before, he had a hard time
deciding on his "seduction suit".
     While looking in the closet, he came up with an idea for
dinner.  There was a catering place that delivered.  It was owned
by a couple of lesbian friends who belonged to the Dignity
Chapter he'd joined.  Craig looked up the number, punched in the
digits and the phone was answered on the first ring.
     "Le Gourmet Catering," the voice said.  Craig asked the
     voice to identify herself.  "This is Trisha," the lady
     answered.
     "Trisha, this is Craig Bastian.  I've run into a last minute
situation where I have a dinner guest and we don't want to go out
to eat."
     "Hi Craig.  Let me ask some questions.  Two of you, right?"
     "Yes."
     "Okay, what time are you wanting to eat?"
     "Probably about 9 o'clock, no earlier, though," he
responded.
     "Do you want a large meal, or light dinner?"
     "Well, it's two men and my guest has been out in the sun
today, working really hard."  He thought, 'That should give her
something to think about.'
     "Okay.  I can suggest several things for an entree.  We can
do chicken breasts sauteed in butter and white wine and finished
with a Balsamic/Tarragon Sauce.  We can also do Beef Stroganoff
with fresh noodles, or Butterfly Pork Chops in a tomato mushroom
sauce with a rice pilaf.  We would serve a tossed salad with any
of the above and a grilled vegetable medley of carrots, zucchini,
yellow squash, new potatoes and green beans.  Dessert would be a
choice of a fresh apple tart, carrot cake or a chocolate torte.
We can deliver it about 9 o'clock and can either serve it for you
or it will be in containers which can be micro waved when you are
ready to eat."
     "That's great.  I'm sorry to put you on short notice."
     "Not a problem, we're open until 10 p.m. Monday thru
Saturday. "
     "Ok, how many pork chops will you serve?"
     "We can fix what you need.
     "Okay, let's go with the pork chops and why don't you fix a
total of four.  Oil and vinegar dressing on the salad and the
carrot cake for the dessert."
     "Great, Craig.  No problem.  I'll probably bring this over
myself.  What's your address?
     Craig gave her the street number and told her it was the
unit to the left as she stepped off the elevator.
     "Oh, one more thing.  Do you want to put this on a credit
card or pay for it when I make the delivery?"
     Craig said, "Credit card and gave her his Master Card
number."
     "Thanks for the business, Craig.  Glad we can help you out."
     Craig hung up the phone, greatly relieved that he had solved
the menu problem.  He went to the kitchen to set out salad plates
and dinner plates, got out silverware and napkins for the table.
There was a table for four in the dining alcove.  There were four
candles in Waterford holders and he rearranged them, then put out
place mats, wine glasses and the napkins and silver.  He pulled a
bottle of Pinot Noir out of the wine rack and took it to the
kitchen to open later.
     Looking at the table, he hugged himself and thought, 'this
will be fine.  Not too fancy, but nice.'  He was thankful that
his mother had gone with him to help pick out nice table
accessories.
     He glanced at his watch.  It was 7:15.  Dale should be home.
     Craig was back in the bedroom, shedding his clothes when the
phone rang.  His heart leaped a couple of times.  He calmed
himself and said, "Hello."
     "Craig, it's Dale," he heard.
     They talked for a couple of minutes then both hung up.  Dale
was going to take a shower, too.  Craig wished they could help
each other, but there would be another timeY he hopedY he would
see to it.
     Craig brushed his teeth, and then headed for the shower.
This wouldn't take very long, but he decided to wash his hair and
thoroughly soaped himself up.  He had two shower nozzles turned
on and the hot water felt good to him.  It washed the 'cares of
the day' away.
     His shower finished, he opened the door, reaching for his
towel and quickly dried himself.  He toweled his hair, hung up
the towel and took his hair dryer out of its holder.  It didn't
take long to dry and style his short hair.  A little hair spray
and that was complete.  He got out his deodorant stick, applying
it to his pits.  He started to open some cologne, but rubbed his
face first.  'Might not hurt to shave,' he thought.  His beard
looked heavier than it was.  He just simply had darker facial
hair than the little hair elsewhere on his body.  He soaped and
lathered his face and was through in two minutes.  Rinsing the
razor, he put it in the drawer with his toothpaste and comb.
Again, he rinsed his face with hot water, using a washcloth.  He
dried his face and reached for a bottle of Polo Cologne.
Splashing it on sparingly, he rubbed the excess over his chest
and upper arms.
     He walked back to his bedroom and picked a pair of silk
boxers and camel color socks to put on, sitting on the end of the
bed to do so.  He stood and pulled up the shorts and walked to
his closet.  He decided on a pair of dark tan Dockers and a light
green cashmere vee-neck pullover to go with it.  It was low cut
and tight.  He wore it on the outside of his pants, remembering
the difficulty of removing his shirt the night before.  He smiled
as he thought about it.  'Clothes will full-length zippers would
be ideal.'
     He glanced at the clock on the dresser.  7:45.  Okay, time
to get out the cheese and arrange a plate of snacks.  He opened
packages and arranged the various hors d'oeuvres on a glass tray,
then carried it in to the living room, placing it on a glass-
topped coffee table.
     Dale should be here in a little bit.  He walked into the
kitchen, opened the dinner wine to breathe, and then looked down
toward the parking lot.  Dale's old Mustang was just pulling into
the place next to Craig's car.
     Dale got out of his car and Craig thought he looked "mighty
fine" as he bent over to get two sacks out from behind the seat.
Craig hurriedly put the food wrappers in the trash, and then
stepped to the front entry to wait.
     He heard the elevator stop and the doors opened.  Without
waiting for a knock, he opened the front door to admit Dale.
Pulling him into the front hall, he shut the door and turned to
kiss Dale.
     "Hi, Guy.  I've missed you today."
     "I've missed you, too.  It's been a long twelve hours," said
Craig.
     They kissed again, then Craig said, "Let me show you where
to put your clothes and things."
     Dale followed Craig to his bedroom, admiring the apartment
unit.  "This place is something else.  I knew it was here, but
have never known anyone who lived here.  How long have you been
here," he asked.
     Craig answered, "About three years.  I was the second tenant
to move in when it was completed.  Then he asked, "Do you have
anything that needs to be hung up?"
     "No, my bathroom stuff is in here," handing Craig a plastic
shopping bag.  "And all that's in here is clothes for tomorrow
morning," holding up the paper sack.
     "I'll put this stuff in the bathroom and you can put your
sack on the chair next to the dresser," Craig told him.
     Suddenly, Dale felt inadequate and unworthy to be in such a
posh condo.  He wondered if he should be here.
     Craig came back from the bathroom as Dale turned around,
walking up to him and pulling him close.  "I'm glad you're here.
I've thought about you all day."
     Dale hugged Craig and gave him a big sloppy kiss, which was
returned.  He felt better.  After all Craig had invited him to be
here.
     "Lets go to the bar and I'll fix us drinks, okay?"
     "Sure is, I'm ready for something wet and cold."
     "I was prepared to give you something wet and hot, but it's
your choice," laughed Craig.
     Craig went to the bar between the living and dining rooms,
asking Dale what he wanted to drink.  Dale looked a little
flustered, so Craig said, "I'm going to have scotch and soda with
a twist of lemon."
     Dale was a little confused, as he'd expected to be offered
beer.  "I've never tried scotchY UhmmY  Do you have any bourbon?"
     "Sure.  What do you want it mixed with?"
     Dale thought a minute, then remembered someone in college
talking about bourbon and Coke, but he didn't see any Coke
bottles on the bar.  He bit the bullet and told Craig, "I really
don't know, I've never drank anything except beer."  He looked a
little sad.
     Craig said, "I've got beer and that's no problem.  I don't
know your drinking habits and I'm not trying to force something
on you that you might not want."
     Dale said, "Why don't you fix me something you think I might
like?  I really don=t' know what to ask for."
     "Okay, let's do this.  I can fix you either a bourbon and
Coke or bourbon and 7-Up.  The Coke would be sweet, but the 7-Up
would be still sweeter.
     "Fix me the bourbon and Coke."
     Craig put ice in the large glasses; pouring generous amounts
of liquor, then mix into the glasses.  He picked up a napkin and
handed both to Craig, then picked up his own glass.  "Cheers," he
told Dale.
     Dale raised his glass and repeated, "Cheers."  He was
hesitant about taking a sip, but brought the glass to his lips.
"MmmnnY that's good. I didn't know what to expect.  Could I have
a sip of your drink after bit?  To see if I like it?"
     "Sure.  A lot of people don't like scotch and I would rather
drink it with club soda than water, if I have a choice.  Some
people say it's an acquired taste, like martinis."
     "Truthfully, Craig, I'm really a novice drinker.  I like
beer, but don't drink all that much of it, either."
     Craig walked to Dale, putting his arm around his waist and
giving him a big squeeze.  Dale's firm body didn't yield, but he
bent his head around to give Craig another kiss.
     "Let me show you the rest of my condo.  He took Dale by the
hand and walked him out of the living room down a short hall to
the second bedroom.  Dale followed him and looked at the queen
bed and furniture, then followed Craig into the bathroom, which
wasn't large, but very functional.  It had a large, glass shower,
stool and washbasin and there appeared to be a lot of storage for
towels and other needs.
     "This is nice."
     Craig said, "I think my parents are the only people who have
slept in this room since I moved in."
     They moved back into the bedroom, then back down the hall to
the entry.  A half wall with the bar separated the living room
from the dining alcove.  The large functional kitchen with a
Chambers gas range was right behind the dining area.  A high
counter with barstools separated the two areas.
     "I thought you said you didn't cook?" Craig asked.
     "I really don't."
     "Then why the big stove?"
     "Well, this is what one might call a 'gourmet kitchen'.
People who are really into cooking like to have appliances like
this.  I guess for them, it's a status symbol.  To me, it's
something that might make the apartment easier to sell when I
decide to move."
     Dale was somewhat surprised at that statement and a little
apprehensive.  "You are planning to move?"
     "Not right away.  I'd like to have a small house to live in
eventually, but not until I can afford to hire someone to do yard
work and maintenance for me."
     "Do you own this apartment or rent it?"
     "I own it.  The Williamson Company built the building on
spec, and then sold the empty units when it was completed.  Since
I was the first owner of this unit, I was able to put in walls
and do the interior design to suit myself.  It's kind of a
combination of modern and Frank Lloyd Wright."
     Dale had heard of Frank Lloyd Wright, and said, "He's the
guy who designed all the houses that were way ahead of their
time, wasn't he?"
     "Yes.  Come on in the living room.  Let's get comfortable
and there are some snacks that I set out for us.  They went to
the living room and both sat on the love seat close to the coffee
table.
     Craig said, "I ordered dinner for us from Le Gourmet
Catering.  They are supposed to deliver it and serve us about 9
o'clock."
     "That's really nice of you.  We could have ordered something
simple in, or picked it up."
     Craig said, "I did order something pretty good in.  I didn't
have much lunch today and if you only had a couple or sandwiches,
pie and fruit for lunch, I'm sure you are starved, too.  This is
just better than average 'order in food'."
     "Whatever you did is fine with me," Dale said, leaning his
head on Craig's shoulder.
     Dale knew that Craig wasn't trying to show off, but the
furniture and wall hangings, drapes, carpets, everything was so
much better than Dale had seen except for pictures in magazines
or the nice furniture stores.  This would take some getting used
to.  By the same token, he wondered if Craig was comfortable at
his houseY when they weren't in bed.
     The snacks Craig had prepared were excellent.  Dale realized
that he was really hungry and that it was a couple of hours later
than he usually ate.  His drink was almost empty and he noticed
that Craig's was, too.
     Craig cut a small wedge of cheese, placed it on a biscuit,
then moved his hand to Dale's mouth.
     "Trying to seduce me?" he giggled.
     "No," Craig responded.  "I use either grapes or chocolate
covered fruit for that."  They both laughed.  'Good, Dale was
starting to loosen up.'  He noticed that Dale's glass was about
empty, then drained his own.  "Are you ready for a refill?"
     "Yes," that hit the spot and I can feel the alcohol a little
bit.  You're not gonna get me drunk and take advantage of me, are
ya mister?" Dale said in his best "little boy" voice.
     They both laughed.
     "How much booze does it take to seduce a big stud like you?"
Craig teased.
     Again in a teeny voice, "I don't know, but I'm willing to
find out."  They both roared with laughter.
     Craig handed Dale a fresh drink.  "You have a great sense of
humor and I love to hear you laugh.  Your laughter, wonderful
smile and dancing eyes make my heart beat faster when I look at
you."
     Dale was a little embarrassed.  He thought carefully before
speaking.  "Craig, we've only known each other for a little more
than a day and I just feel so comfortable around you.  It's
weird, but it's almost like we've always known each other.  You
make me feel good about myself and I think you like me, too."
     "I do, and not just because you are beautiful on the
outside.  God knows, you are a sexy hunk in my book, but you have
an inner innocence and charm.  I'd love to have the chance to
explore the world with you.  I know this is early to ask, but
would you let me show you my world and you show me yours?  I
think we can teach each other lots."
     Dale had tears in his eyes.  He sat his glass down on the
table, then took Craig's from him and sat it with the other one.
He turned to Craig and they placed their arms around each other
and just held on, like they were afraid the other was going to
try to leave.
     After what seemed to be a long time, Craig pulled back.  He
had tears in his eyes, as did Dale.  "You complete my life.  I've
never really looked for anyone before and if you'll have me I
won't have to look any further."
     Dale started to speak.  "I'm not deservingY"  Craig pinched
his lips shut.
     "Sshh.  I'm not going to listen to you saying that again.
If there is anyone who isn't deserving, it's me, okay?"
     "How can I possibly answer that?"
     "Neither of us can, but I'll tell you what we can do.  We
can take this one-day at a time and we don't push each other.  We
have a lot to talk about and tell each other.  A lot of talking
to do."
     "Craig, you really make me feel complete, too.  I've never
had anyone who I thought would look out for me, and here you are,
my everything."
     They leaned together for a very passionate kiss.
     The doorbell rang.
     Craig stood up.  "Here's our meal, right on time."
     * * * * *
     To be continued
* * * * *
Author's Note:  This is my first attempt at gay fiction, and the
only way I can learn whether or not I should continue is from my
readers' feedback.  I would appreciate your comments, criticism,
suggestions, and anything else that you would care to say.  All
Email will be answered.  If you wish to receive e-mail
notification of subsequent posting, please let me know by sending
your request to the e-mail address below.  Contact me at:
tulsadriller7@aol.com

Thanks for the overwhelming response to previous chapters.  I
received positive replies from all over the world.  My special
thanks to RW, whom I've known for many years and value his
suggestions.  Also for the proofreading help of Paul Daventon,
author of  "Turning the Page" found in the "Adult-Friends"
section of Nifty.  Please read it.