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5



Randy got back Rod’s place about three that afternoon. He had picked up his few belongings from his step-father’s place and left a note saying he had a job and a place to live and wouldn’t be back, not that Sam would care. Rod gave him a hand carrying stuff in – two loads and it was done!

“Pierre got here while you were gone…you’ve gotta meet him – he’s a riot! He can’t speak English worth a hoot, but he sure ‘communicates’ well!”

Randy had a mental picture of some big, fat, smelly slob of a chef – and frankly, wasn’t really too interested in meeting him. “Yeah, I guess…!”

“I’m serious – you’re really gonna enjoy meeting him, and I know he’s gonna take a liking to you!”

“Just what I need – some French toad who really likes me!” Randy thought… “So, where is he?”

“In the kitchen, getting something put together for tonight, tomorrow and Monday…he’s only here Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday afternoons. Are you wearing a strap under those 501s?”

“Yeah…why?”

“Drop the jeans…put on your armbands…and I’ll take you down to meet him!”

“Whatever you say…you really sure I need to meet this guy?”

“He’s part of my house staff – part-time, but yeah…he’ll be working for you since you’re my PA, so you better get to know him a little.”

“O.K. – if you insist!”

Rod was wearing just his usual harness and sandals…Randy the three straps and sandals. When they entered the kitchen, Pierre had his back to them peeling potatoes. The water was running and the radio was on…so he didn’t hear them enter. Randy was more than a little surprised at what he saw. Pierre was 5’4”…maybe 5’5”…slight build…140 pounds at the most, long dark hair, very narrow hips…firm ass, dimpled cheeks covered with fine dark hair that extended to his ankles. He was obviously not an athlete, but certainly “eye candy!” Rod came up behind him, grabbed a tuft of hair between his legs, just behind his balls and tugged.

“Ah, Meestar Rod – I know it you, ’cause no one else pick my ass so good!” Pierre turned around to face Rod and Randy. His chest was covered with dark fir, thinning from just under his pecs to where it expanded into a heavy pubic bush which circled his pale, uncut cock and almost obscured his balls. He was about half hard, his glans just peeking out of its protective hood. “Oh, Meestar Rod, you have such pretty man with you!”

“This is Randy, my PA…you’ll be working with him some, especially when we plan weekend events.”

Pierre extended a wet hand. “’Allo, pretty man, Rhondee – I am Pierre…Dr. Mike give me to Meestar Rod to cook, but I do most work for Dr. Mike and go Chef School. Meestar Rod give me good money and good sock too!”

“Good sock?” Randy asked.

Rod shifted uneasily from one foot to another as Pierre went on to explain. Pierre had “outed” him! “Oui, he sock on me sometime…give very good sock…make much – how you say…com! He give you sock too, no?”

“Um, well…he, um…yeah.”

“You are lucky bastard getting sock from Mr. Rod! Here, you feel my cock?” Pierre grabbed Randy’s hand and pulled it into his crotch. Randy had never felt an uncut cock before…actually, other than his own, Ned’s and Rod’s were the only other two cocks he’d ever touched…and they were both cut! “You feel it good?”

He felt a little awkward feeling up Pierre with Rod standing there, grinning at him…but he fondled Pierre’s hot little package…squeezing, rolling his hairy balls, stroking his growing cock, amazed at the feel of what seemed to be an excess amount of skin. “You feel…um, loose!”

“Oui…Dr. Mike say he want cut on me…make me circumcise, but I say no! When I very hard, I not need circumcise…but, he say I be better sock…you think maybe?”

Rod was right…this guy sure got his message across right away! “Maybe…I don’t know…!” He was torn between etiquette and the need to bail!

“O.K. – so maybe I sock on you?”

“Well…um…”

Rod stepped in…“Tell you what, Pierre…you get your cookin’ done, Randy and I will see you later and we’ll talk about who does what to who? O.K.?”

“Oui…you sock on Randy now, no?”

“Go to work!”

When Rod and Randy got back to the den, Randy asked: “Hey, man…what should I do about this guy – he wants blow me!”

“Told you he was up front, didn’t I? I wouldn’t worry about it too much…he just likes to suck – actually does a pretty good job…but only likes to be sucked by older guys – goes apeshit when I do him! I don’t think Mike does him too often, and he really gets off when an older guy does him! He’s such a horny little bastard!”

“You do him?”

“Well, yeah…like he said – didn’t mean for you to hear that quite like you did, but yeah.”

“A lot?”

“Once or twice a week – sometimes more…why?”

“He do you?”

“Once in a while - not as much as I do him…why?”

Randy was silent for several minutes. “Think you’ll keep doin’ him…and lettin’ him do you?”

“Probably so, why?”

“Randy was quiet again… “It’s just…you and me – I thought, y’know…since I was, I mean - we were. I mean, what you did before has already happened – but when I got here, I thought…hell, I don’t know…”

Rod plopped himself in the corner of the massive leather sofa and spread his legs. “Get your ass over here and sit between my legs…real close so I can mess with your stuff while we talk!”

Randy did as he was asked…sat be between Rod’s muscular legs and leaned back against his chest – acutely aware of Rod’s firm package pressed against the small of his back. Rod wrapped his arms around him and held him tightly, kissing him lightly on the neck – letting one hand “wander” to his crotch, where he began to gently and lovingly fondle his cock and balls, which responded predictably!

Rod spoke softly as he continued to deftly stimulate Randy. “Man, you’ve gotta understand something…I love you, but we’re not lovers!”

“But I thought…”

“We can’t be lovers…do the math…you’re eighteen – well, almost…and I just turned forty-seven this summer…that’s twenty-nine years! When you were born I’d already been through two lovers and who knows how many ‘quickies!’”

“But you’re so…I mean, you’re in such good…and you look…”

“Figure this…in roughly thirty years, when you’re my age…how old will I be?”

“Um…seventy-seven…?”

“Right! Now, put yourself in my place - do you think that I, at my present age, would be interested in sex with ANY guy that’s seventy-seven years old?”

“Well…”

“That doesn’t mean that I might not love some guy that’s seventy-seven, but he sure as hell wouldn’t be my lover when I’m only forty seven! Make sense?”

“Yeah, but…well, I just don’t want to be a ‘plaything’ y’know? I mean, I want to be more like…am I your plaything?” By this time Randy was fully erect – a pearl of pre-cum glistening on the tip of his dick.

“Yes and no…”

“Yes and no? You mean, I am?”

Rod heard the hurt in Randy’s voice. “Yes, because I’m gonna play with you as much, and as often, and for as fuckin’ long as I possibly can – like this, or with my tongue…or any other part of my body that I can use to get your rocks off! No, because you’re not just a ‘thing’ – that’s something to be used and thrown away…you’re a sweet, hot, handsome, sexy, intelligent young man that I want to carefully steer around the pitfalls of being who…or what…you are! I hope I can help you avoid some of the pain that I’ve had on this weird journey, so that at my age you’ll a contented man – like I am, with a great life and have a hot young buck craving your attention…like you crave mine!”

“Oh, man…you’re getting’ me close!”

“That’s the plan…this is the ‘play’ part of ‘plaything!’” Rod tightened his grip on Randy’s fiery pole…three, four, five firm strokes and he exploded, shooting stream after stream of hot jizm, coating his own chest and actually splashing some on Rod’s cheek!

“Oh, yeah…that was so great! Rod, man…I love you - and I guess it’s o.k. that you’re not my lover…but I want to be around you for a bunch of years!”

“If I have anything to do with it, you will be, man…and you’re gonna have some, no a LOT of great sex with some great guys…and me too!”

“Like this guy, Zeb?”

“Yeah…he is one hot stud, and he’s gonna go ape over you!”

“Do I have to do Pierre…or let him do me?”

“When you’re ready and if you want to…no question he’s gonna wanna ‘sock’ you, but for some reason…he’d rather have me ‘sock’ him, so you might not ever get the chance…even if you wanted to!” Rod filled his hand with Randy’s spent package. “These goodies will be under my constant surveillance and supervision…no one messes with this package without my explicit knowledge and permission – so if you get hit on, and don’t like it…I’ll take care of it, O.K?”

“Deal!”


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