Ups and Downs

Character

(Note: This chapter does not contain a lot of explicit sex, but the information here is necessary to follow the development of the characters and the plot. Plus, there is a lot of humor and there will be more artwork at the end.)

“There you are,” Woody observed nonchalantly. I had clenched my eyes shut when Zac and Davey practically sucked me into a parallel universe, but I panicked when I heard the door of the limo open and saw Woody leaning over, almost touching me, as my dick blasted gobs of goop all over Zac and Davey’s faces and forced Woody to flinch lest he be caught in the onslaught of my cum barrage as well. Oh fuck! I just got this incredible job two hours ago, and now I’m gonna be fired before the ink on the paperwork dries.

“Kim has been looking for you two,” indicating Rafael and me as if nothing had just happened. “Your lunch is getting cold. I would invite you two (Davey and Zac) to join them, but it seems that you’ve already eaten.” Rafael, Davey, and Zac laughed at the joke with cum all over their faces and dripping out of their mouths, but I was still too panic-stricken to do anything but squirm in my seat—with my shorts down around my knees and my dick still at attention and still oozing joy juice.

And as Woody walked away, leaving the door wide open, Davey and Zac gave us both kisses as we pulled up our shorts and fled to the patio, where Kim was setting up our lunch.

“I knew you’d be starving, wanting more than a sandwich,” said Kim, “so I grilled you some steaks with baked potatoes and a medley of sauteed zucchini and squash. And if that’s not enough, I’ve got cookies baking in the oven.”

I was indeed starving, so I scarfed down the hearty meal, and when Kim brought us four hot chocolate-chip cookies, Rafael took a pass, so I devoured his two as well as mine. “I have to eat fast,” I confessed, “since this may be my last meal. I think I’m a dead man.”

“Because you had sex in the limo?” questioned Rafael. “Pfft. It’s not as big a deal as you might think. If Woody doesn’t say any more about it before breakfast tomorrow, you’re safe.”

“I hope so, but I’m not going to take any more chances today. Let’s get back to my training ASAP.” And so we did.

Rafael took me back to the garage and showed me how to operate all the new-fangled computerized gadgets in all the vehicles. When I asked about maintenance on the vehicles, Rafael explained that we were not expected to be mechanics. We just had to keep the vehicles clean, keep track of the maintenance required under the warranties, and schedule the service appointments.

Next on the agenda, Rafael showed me how to operate and maintain the pool and spa. I had a pretty good idea from having worked in the hardware store, but our family had never owned a pool ourselves, so I paid close attention to Rafael’s instructions. He then took me to the pool house and showed me where the supplies were kept.

The pool house was attached to a shed/workshop that housed all the lawn and garden tools as well as ladders, work benches, power tools, and other hardware, all of which I was very familiar with. “You may never have to use most of these tools,” said Rafael, “but some guys like to come in here and build stuff for their dorm rooms or whatever.”

Or to get their rocks off.

The next stop on our tour was the boat house down by the lake. There was no motor boat, but there was a paddle boat, a canoe, a kayak, a row boat, and related gear. “There’s not much to do here,” said Rafael. “All the guys are pretty good about putting things back where they belong when they’re finished, but we do make a point of following up on the guests when they use the boats just to be on the safe side.”

There was nothing to do at the barn or the guest houses, so we skipped those. “You just have to look after the gardens,” said my guide. “And just as with everything else, you can tap any of the guys around the pool to help out when needed.”

The tour and training session took us right up to 5:00 o’clock, and since we had an hour free before dinner, I decided to relax by the pool, but before I did, I went up to my room to retrieve a sketch pad I had brought with me. I had always enjoyed drawing but never really got to do as much of it as I had wished, so I thought now would be a good time to hone my skills.

Sitting at a table under the loggia on the patio, I began sketching portraits of some of the guys around the pool. “That’s very good,” stressed the voice over my shoulder. I recognized the voice immediately and snapped to attention as Mr. Block put his hand on my shoulder.

“Relax, Joe. No need for formalities. We’re all family around here.” As I settled back into my seat, Mr. Block lifted up the sketch pad I had placed on the table. “Do you mind?” he asked. What the fuck was I gonna say? “Hell no, asshole. Keep your goddam hands off my artwork?” Of course not.

Remaining standing, with Woody now at his side, Mr. Block flipped through several pages of the sketch book and nodded his approval. I don’t know if he appreciated the artistic talent or if he was just getting off on the fact that most of the sketches were nudes and some were undeniably homoerotic, but I accepted his endorsement gratefully.

“Woody did mention last night that you had an affection for the arts, and I can see that he was right.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Turning to Woody, Mr. Block said, “What do you think, Woody? Greenwich?”

“Yes, indeed. I’ll take care of it.”

I had no friggin’ idea what the hell they were talking about, but before I could ask, they walked on.

Rafael, who had been standing nearby, joined me at the table, but before I could ask him if he knew what they were talking about, Woody suddenly reappeared.

“You,” he asserted, pointing a finger as he addressed me, “and you,” he repeated, pointing this time at Rafael. “My office. Two minutes.”

“Oh shit!” I whispered to Rafael as soon as Woody was out of earshot. “He’s gonna can me for that little stunt in the limo.” Rafael said nothing. He just tried to console me a bit by rubbing his hand over my back. It felt good, but I knew it was pointless. The die had been cast.

“Not there,” said Rafael, as I started to knock on Mr. Block’s office door. Instead, he led me to another door at the other end of that wall. I had never noticed it before because it blended in so perfectly with the wood-paneled walls in the library.

“Come in,” said Woody in that deep sexy voice of his when Rafael knocked on that door. Getting chewed out or not, I could listen to that resonant voice all day and all night. I just hoped I wouldn’t pop a boner while he raked me over the coals. I thought he was fucking hot, but I also felt intimidated by him. Part of that was because of the fact that he was my boss and my fate rested in his hands; part of it was the simple fact that he had a commanding presence wherever he was or whatever he was doing.

“Sit down,” he said, indicating the two high-back leather chairs in front of his desk, nearly identical to the ones in Mr. Block’s office.

“I’m so sorry, Woody…Mr. Woodward. I won’t—”

“Have you killed someone without my knowing it?”

“Huh? No, I just—”

“Have you burnt down one of the guest houses?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then shut up and listen. If you’re trying to apologize for that little incident in the limo, forget it.”

Seeing the puzzled look on my face, he explained. “Look, Joe. You have suddenly found yourself thrust into a strange new world, and you don’t know quite what to make of it yet. You may feel like a kid in a sexual candy shop. That’s natural.

“Every boy dreams of screwing his prom date in the back of a limousine. Or having sex on an airplane.” With that comment, Rafael mustered all the strength he could to avoid laughing, and I turned beet red. “You’re blushing,” Woody continued. “That’s cute.” And that little observation fractured Rafael’s restraints. He burst out laughing so hard, I thought I was going to have to give him CPR. As for Woody, he simply broached that tiny demi-smirk of his, and I thought I saw a microscopic gleam in his eye as he paused and then continued.

“Over the next few weeks, you’ll probably play out your cowboy fantasies in the loft of the barn, your pirate fantasies in the row boat, or your Tarzan fantasies by swinging from the chandeliers. Don’t try that one,” he quickly added. “It didn’t work for me, and I’m sure as hell it won’t work for you.”

Oh, my god! Was that a confession?

“Go ahead,” Woody continued. “Get it all out of your system. Eventually, you will settle down. Hopefully that will be sooner rather than later. Now, may we get down to business?” Once again, it was more of a command than a question.

“In a couple of weeks, Mr. Block is going to an art show in Connecticut—Greenwich to be more precise—and he would like you to go with him, Joe.”

Holy shit! Me?

He thinks you have some artistic talent, and I agree, and he wants to encourage that. As you have no doubt observed, Mr. Block is quite a collector of homoerotic art.

“Yes, and it’s all beautiful,” I said.

“Indeed. So, meet me here in my office tomorrow morning at 9:00, and we will start planning our trip.”

“Our trip?”

“Of course, I’ll be going with you. Somebody’s gotta keep an eye on you to keep you from swinging from the hotel chandeliers.” That comment was made all the more funny because he said it with his characteristic deadpan face, and Rafael again nearly fell out of his chair laughing. And I must admit, I thought it was pretty funny too.

“As for you, Rafael, you may be wondering why I brought you into this conversation.” As Rafael nodded his concurrence, Woody continued, “Mr. Block is inviting you to join us on this trip as well.”

“Really? But I’ll be leaving for Spain in just a few weeks.”

“Precisely,” acknowledged Woody. “Mr. Block wants to reward you for all of your exemplary service these past few years with this little vacation. You will fly to New York with us, but while we are at the art show in Greenwich, you can remain in New York City—all expenses paid, of course—and see the sights or do whatever horny young men do in such places when left without proper supervision. Once you leave here, you will not be returning to San Diego. Mr. Block has a little something he wants you to do for him on the East Coast, which I will explain in due time, and then you will be off to Spain, where you will become the worst nightmare of Catalonian mothers instead of the mothers of California’s defenseless young men.”

And to that comment, Rafael rubbed his hands together, batted his long eyelashes, and grinned like the proverbial cat that was about to eat the hapless canary.

Before either Woody or I could rein in Rafael’s hysteria, Mr. Block knocked on Woody’s office door. “Pardon the interruption,” he said. “Could I see you for a minute, Woody?”

“Excuse me, fellas. Sit tight. I’ll be right back.”

“Whew!” I exclaimed the minute that Woody stepped out. “I thought for sure I was gonna get canned.”

“I told you not to worry,” said Rafael, slowly regaining his composure. “It all really boils down to character,” he added.

“Character? Whaddya mean? All the rampant sex around here, and you say it’s all about character?”

“Sex has nothing to do with character,” explained Rafael. “It’s really about how you treat people. You can demonstrate character with people whether you’re having sex with them or not. Likewise, you can demonstrate lack of character if you mistreat them. It’s not about sex. It’s about dignity and respect.”

“Wow! When did you become King Solomon?” I teased, but at the same time, I knew that what he had said made a lot of sense.

“Sorry about that, guys,” said Woody, re-entering the room and once again taking his seat behind the hand-carved executive desk.

“As I was saying,” he continued, “meet me here at 9:00 in the morning, Joe, and we’ll start planning our trip. I told you I could use your help with some administrative tasks. This will be your first chance to demonstrate those skills.

“While we’re doing that, Rafael, I need you to make sure the Navigator is ready. We’ll be going out right after our meeting.”

“That’s it for now. Go get ready for dinner.”

Rafael left the office ahead of me, but I paused, mulling over what he had just told me about character.

“Is there something else?” Woody asked me.

As I turned to face him again, I asked somewhat sheepishly, but very sincerely, “Would it be appropriate if I invited Davey and Zac to join us for dinner?|”

For a moment, Woody gazed at me as if he were trying to figure out if I was the same homeless vagabond he had rescued from a seedy motel room in Atlanta or if perhaps my body had been inhabited by some alien from another planet. But then there appeared that ever-so-slight smile at the edge of his lips and that miniscule gleam in his eyes. “Sure,” he finally said. “That will be just fine.”

As I turned again to leave, Woody caught me. “But make sure they are dressed appropriately for dinner. We wouldn’t want them to make a bad impression on Mr. Block.”

To be continued