Jerry

By: Will B
(© 2009 by the author)
Ably Assisted by Ed

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Sheik Mohammed Farouk had placed his own private jet at the disposal of Trace and Jerry. After a short stopover in Cairo, our intrepid heroes are on their way home.

Chapter 5

At 4:30 pm, Pacific Daylight Time the jet touched down at San Francisco International Airport. The flight had gone smoothly, with only a short stop at Baltimore’s Thurgood Marshall Baltimore Washington International Airport.  At Jerry’s insistence, a truck from the Chesapeake Seafood Company had delivered four pounds of back-fin crabmeat.  They were delayed before they could take off because of customs.

“I’ll show you how to prepare crab cakes the right way,” said Jerry.

“Didn’t you want to get some oysters, also?” asked Trace.

“I really don’t think either of us need oysters, my sweet!” leered Jerry. Trace just smirked back.

The plane touched down at Frisco. As Jerry and Trace exited the plane they saw two men waving at them.

“That’s Andy, my caretaker, but…who’s the guy with him?” Trace wanted to know.

Trace and Jerry stood on the tarmac and the entire crew also exited the plane to bid them adieu.

Abdul, Akbah, Ezek, Aaroon, and Ishmael all stood proudly as Trace and Jerry thanked them for a smooth ride.

“Ah, Sirs, it was our pleasure to serve you,” said Ezek.

“Ezek, you and your brothers have made this a wonderful trip for us. We would like to show our ….”

“Sirs, no tips, no baksheesh, please,” interrupted Ezek.

“Show our gratitude,” continued Trace as if Ezek had never spoken. “Is there some charity we could make a contribution to, to show our gratitude?”

“Our father,"  Abdul said, “… is very much involved with the Princess Jasmine Clinic for babies with Birth Defects. Perhaps you would care to…..”

“As soon as I get home,” Trace said, “I will send the clinic a check…And now I guess it’s time…”

One by one all five of the Sheik’s sons came and bowed to Trace and then to Jerry, who returned the courtesy, and then, one by one, each of the five sons came and embraced Trace and Jerry. 

“May Allah smile on you,” said Ezek.

“May your days be long in the land,” said Aaroon.

The five men returned to the plane after it was refueled. Waving to them once more, Trace and Jerry turned and walked toward the two men who had come to greet them.

“Andy, it’s good to see you again, buddy,” said Trace.

“Same to you, Sir,” said Andy, a forty-five-year-old man, who had brown curly hair, with just a dash of gray. His face was lined, but he was stocky and fit, and he had a friendly smile.

Trace took a deep breath and said, “Andy, I would like you to meet Jerry Taylor. He’s my….my partner, and I hope, soon to be life partner.” Trace took Jerry’s hand in his and led him forward.

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Taylor,” said Andy.

“Please, just call me Jerry,” Jerry said.

And you know damn well, you can cut out the ‘Sir' stuff with me too, Andy,” said Trace and gave Andy a gentle punch on the arm.

Andy turned to his companion, who appeared to also be in his mid-forties. He had straight black hair and a solemn expression on his face. Andy brought him forward.

“Trace, Jerry, this is Wall-Eye. He’s a licensed plumber and has been looking over the plumbing facilities at the hotel, and he…, well, he and I…are … well, we’ve become very good friends, if you know what I mean.”

“Hello, Wall-Eye. I’m pleased to meet any friend of Andy’s,” Trace said and extended his hand.

“Hello, Mr. Mackenzie, I…,” Wall-Eye began.

“Uh uh!” said Trace. “Cut out the ‘Mister' crap. If you’re a friend of Andy’s, then I’m Trace and this is Jerry.”

Jerry smiled and shook Wall-Eye’s hand.  “Pleased to meet you, Wall-Eye.”

The four men got into the Souchard Hotel Van.  Andy and Wall-Eye were in the front seat and Trace and Jerry in the back.

As they drove off, Andy asked, “We have a twenty-mile-or-so drive ahead of us. Do you wanna stop for dinner or what?”

Trace said, “We dined so well on the plane, and I’m anxious to get home. I kinda have a craving for something simple… like… hot dogs and chili. Is that all right with you, Jerry?”

“Sure, love…and I’d kinda like to see my new home, too.”

Since they were out in the country, and the roads were clear, Andy ‘kind of’  put the pedal to the metal, and in about thirty minutes, the van was turning into the drive of The Souchard Hotel. 

To the right of the drive was a large lake, the water reflecting the reds and golds of the setting sun. “That’s the lake that keeps us in fresh water,” Trace said.

“Oh, wow!” was all Jerry could say.

The house appeared, and Jerry’s ‘wandering eyes’ drank in the sight of a three-story Spanish hacienda with two side wings. On each side of the main house and wings were four one-story cottages with red tiled roofs.

Andy drove to the front of the house and Jerry could see the gentle grassy slope that led down to the beach. A graceful flight of steps led from the plaza in front of the house and concrete sidewalks connected the plaza to the cottages on either side of the main hotel.

“Oh, wow! WOW!” was all Jerry could say.

The four men got out of the van and Trace and Jerry carried their bags into the house. “I’ll carry your bags up to your room, Trace, and I’ll put Jerry’s bags….” Andy started.

“Into my room, Andy, if you will,” Trace said.

Assuming the persona of a very correct English butler, Andy drew himself up to his full height, gave a slight bow, and said, “Yes, Sir. Very good, Sir. Will that be all, Sir?”

“Yes, Jeeves, you old ham. That’ll be all. Thanks.”

“Okay, Trace, and then I’ll start the grill for the dogs, and by the way, Wall-Eye, here, makes a delicious chili.”

“Oh, good. Wall-Eye, would you favor us?”

“You bet. White man doesn’t know how to make really good chili. Wall-Eye show white man! Heh heh. Oh, well…, you might as well know the truth, Trace--actually I got the recipe from watching the Martha Stewart show!”

The four men enjoyed a simple supper with hot dogs, delicious chili, rolls, coleslaw.  They topped it off with a dish of vanilla ice cream with chocolate syrup and whipped cream and a maraschino cherry on top.

They took their dessert out onto the patio and watched the sun slowly set over the Pacific. After a little smacking of the lips over the last of the calorie-laden, fat-filled, but oh so delicious dessert, Trace said, “Andy, I’d like to talk about the plans we have for the hotel. Tomorrow we’ll get down to brass tacks, but tonight I just want to talk about my dream.”

“Sure, Trace. We’d all like to hear it,” said Andy.

“In Cairo,” Trace started, “Jerry and I met at a hotel that catered to …men like us, men who enjoyed the pleasure of other men’s company, other men’s conversation, and on occasion, other men’s bodies.”

“How?” asked Wall-Eye. “I mean how did they do this?”

“They served delicious food, their rooms were immaculate, they had swimmingpools and steam rooms for those who wanted to try to keep fit.  For those who wanted a little ‘sex-citement,’ to coin a phrase; they had a playroom where men could enjoy encounters with a lover or with anonymous ‘hookups’.”

“Trace has talked to me about making this into a similar hotel,” Jerry said. “Oh, I’m sorry, but I can’t resist… it would be a sort of San Fagcisco by the Sea.”

The other three groaned at the awful pun, but they liked the idea.

“Andy, have you been thinking of what needs to be done?” Trace asked.

“Well, boss, I think we could start with having rooms in the main building for twelve to fifteen paying guests. We would have to hire a manager and a top flight chef. We’d also need to hire a staff of waiters and bell boys…and I think one of the walls in the ballroom may need to be taken down and be repaneled. The plaster seems to be developing cracks.”

“Do you have anything that could serve as a ‘playroom’?” Jerry asked.

“Yes, I think the old ballroom in one of the side wings could be adapted pretty easily,” Andy said.

“You have a beautiful beach here and I think that would be an attraction,” said Wall-Eye. “You could advertise that swim suits were optional.”

“How’s the electricity situation?” Trace wanted to know.

“Ahh! There’s a surprise for you!”  Wall-Eye said with a smile.  “We can install solar panels on the roof, and Andy and I discovered an underground cave where the water is constantly flowing in or out, as the tide rises and falls. Power shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Trace, what about licenses for running a hotel and restaurant? Would we need a life-guard?” Jerry asked.

“Good point, love.”

Trace thought a minute and then said, “We’ll start with the restaurant and the beach, see about life-guards, and advertise for a chef and general manager. I’ll put an ad in the ‘San Francisco Blade,’ and I’ll contact my lawyers to find about the legal requirements. Shouldn’t be too difficult—after all, this was a hotel for many years.”

By now the sun had almost disappeared below the horizon. Night was settling in, and once again the celestial jeweler was throwing his diamonds across the black velvet of the night sky.

“Let’s go in, Jerry. I want to send a couple of e-mails before we turn in.”

“Sure, Trace. It’s been a long and exciting day.”

“I think we’ll go in, too. Are you ready, Wall-Eye?” Andy asked.

Wall-Eye grinned and said, “Whatever you say, Andy.”

All four went in. Andy and Wall-Eye went to Andy’s room, and stripped so they could take a shower. What a contrast they presented. Andy’s stocky, wiry, body, covered with black hair from his pecs down to his thighs, and Wall-Eye, tall, bronzed, his taut muscular body devoid of hair below his ears except for a small bush of straight black hair that framed an organ of no mean dimensions.

Andy and Wall-Eye took turns washing each other’s body. The neck, the shoulders, the pecs.

“Umm! Your fingers are mightily talented—for a white man’s!”

“Shut up and kiss me, Tonto!…Kiss me again….and ooooh! that felt so good.”

The pecs, the torsos, the thighs all felt the ministering manipulations of eager hands roaming the plains, the hills, the valleys.

“Andy, would you run your hands down my….ooooohhh. Again. Again!”

“Just wait. Just you wait, Wall-Eye. That’s all I can say. Heh! heh!”

Then the glutes, and the valley of delight that lay between those firm muscles of male-ass. Finally, all four hands found the prizes they had been seeking.

Wall-Eye knelt and paid his respects to the rampant organ that was staring him in the face.  He puckered his lips to salute the pole that was throbbing, just waiting for his attention.

Contact! Lips and tongue met their goal. As they exercised their talents, Andy could hardly stand upright. The sensations were so… so…. Oooohhhh!   Oooohhh!  Aaaahhhh! Release! Satiaton! A cascade of man cream flowed over Wall-Eye’s lips, chin, and down onto his chest.

Meanwhile, Trace was in his office sitting at his computer sending an e-mail: ComingsAndGowings@aba.net: “Gentlemen: I am thinking of reopening the Souchard Hotel as a Restaurant or Resort for men with unique tastes. Please review my portfolio, and the papers of the old Souchard Hotel to see what licenses we have to obtain. Let me have an appointment one day next week so I can discuss my plans with you more fully. Sincerely, Trace Mackenzie.”

Just as Trace hit the ‘Send’ button, Jerry came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Trace’s bare shoulders and kissed him on the top of his head, and then gave Trace’s ear a tongue-bath..

“Whatcha doin’, love?” he asked.

“Thinking about how lucky I am…Jerry, are you going to be happy here?”

“Ummmm. I think I can find enough to do to keep from being bored,” Jerry replied, and he began to run his fingers over Trace’s pecs.

“You know, Trace, I never did learn to type. I have to use the hunt…” (Jerry’s hand began to slide over Trace’s pec faster) “… and peck…” (Now Jerry’s nimble fingers began to tweak, pinch and rub Trace’s nipples) “…system. Do you like my hunt (rub, rub) and peck (tweak, pinch) method, Trace?”

“All right. That’s it, upstairs! I’ll hunt and peck you.”

“Awww! Promises, promises. That’s all I get, is promises!” Jerry mocked a pouting tone of voice.

In Andy’s room, he and Wall-Eye had come out of the shower and dried off. They were lying on Andy’s bed, and Andy reached over and pulled Wall-Eye into a deep, moist, tongue dueling kiss.”

All right, my ‘Chief Crazy Horse.’ Your stallion is waiting for you to ride him…to break him…to show him who’s the master. Come on, my Chief, ride me… that’s it.”

Andy lay on his back. He raised his legs back and said. “Come on, Chief. I want it. I want it. Now…. NOW….”

And ‘Chief Crazy Horse’ went on the war path!

In Trace’s room, Trace was lying on his back, and Jerry was straddling him, facing Trace’s feet. Trace reached around and stroked Jerry’s manhood, while Jerry leaned forward and massaged Trace’s tool. Jerry sat back and Trace lubricated the part of Jerry’s body that was closest to his mouth.

“Ummm!… Ohhhh!… You know, Trace….dinner was delicious, but I could use another one of those thick juicy sausages nestled between two round firm buns….If I supply the buns, could you bring…?”

No more words were spoken that night, only moans of delight.

To be continued...

 Author’s note: I want to thank my alpha-reader, Ed, for all the hard work he does on making my stories better. I also want to thank my beta-reader, who wishes to be anonymous, for his helpful comments and insights. Thanks, guys. I couldn’t do it without you!

Posted: 07/03/09