Colton’s Story
The last few weeks had been an insane freaking fairytale. All the wedding prep, then the wedding itself (including the unexpected reunion with Craig and his dad), then our honeymoon. It was so much fun we were the center of attention… that was so unlike us, but fun as hell. But now it was back to life. Back to reality. I was finishing up my last semester of culinary school, and working as an assistant chef (one of four) at a local restaurant to gain experience. I had been working fulltime at the docks on top of everything else to pay the bills, but when me and Craig moved into the house together, he took over some of the financial burden and pushed me to quit so I could focus more on my culinary career.
It was a Friday night, which meant insanity at the restaurant. The sous-chef called in sick at last minute and get this shit… the Head Chef requested that I step in and replace him. ME! Little Colton who was still finishing up his training was asked to step up to do the heavy lifting. That may not sound like a big deal, but it was! I’d technically be in-command of the kitchen, the sous-chef ranks directly below the head chef, that means I’d be in charge of the kitchen staff on behalf of the head chef who’s typically preoccupied with tasks other than cooking, like purchasing, staffing or developing new dishes. At our restaurant, the sous-chef focused on the food and the running of the kitchen while the head chef focused more on the business end of the kitchen.
It was a lot of pressure and I almost said no, but Craig gave me a pep talk. “Colton, you’ve been cooking nonstop since the day I met you, you even spent part of our honeymoon in the kitchen of a restaurant learning about Hawaiian food. You’ve been at that restaurant for over a year…. like almost two even, you know every dish, every nuance, you’re a master of the process, and the team respects you. You got this.” And then for added measure he said, “so quit being a whiny little bitch and step the fuck up” then he flashed me his brilliant smile. He believed in me… so did I. We kissed goodbye, then I got in the GTI and headed in a couple hours early to get a head start on the busy night ahead.
When I got there, the hostess was getting the dining room set for service. The kitchen was mostly quiet except for the head Chef who was preoccupied in a meeting with a meat vendor, he didn’t even notice me come in. After looking over the specials for the night, I got organized. I made notes of a few questions I had for the Chef about the specials, but had enough information to get started. I’m very regimented in my prep, I inspect and gather all the ingredients for the soups, sauces, first, then I concentrate on sides and entrees. I locate the equipment (mixing bowls, measuring cups, pots, pans, etc.) and group it with the ingredients so I can move through the line item by item, or easily pass things off to the assistant cooks (that was my usual job, I could do it all, but sauces and soups were my favorites because the chef trusted me to experiment a little bit, and small changes could make a huge difference).
I had made great Progress before Chef Rudy finished up with the vendor and came over to talk to me. He inspected what I had already done with an approving nod before asking if I had questions about the menu. I nervously went through my list and he clarified several things for me, then said, “Colton, lighten up. You got this” then he smiled. “You’ve been ready for this for a while and I’m glad Chef Rudy called out tonight so I can watch you in action.” Holy shit, more small words with big meaning. I know they were looking at opening another restaurant at Wrightsville beach and were evaluating our current staff to see who could be elevated… this could mean big opportunity for me. Although his goal was to calm me, he made me even more nervous. I decided to take that nervous energy and channel it into my cooking. After I had the answers to my questions, I went back to work. I had been at it for a couple of hours when the rest of the kitchen staff started to roll in; they were all surprised to see me at the ladle instead of Chef Rudy but they rolled with it. Well, everyone but Missy. Missy had been there for a few years, she started bussing tables, then they moved her into the kitchen, and now she was an assistant like me… she was about as far as she was going to go in that kitchen without formal training and it pissed her off. She had no desire to go to back to school, but still felt she was “owed” a promotion.
I gave the pre-service run down on our specials, etc., and threw in a few inspirational words like Chef Rudy always did. I ended with “Is everyone ready to give it everything?!” (I stole that from Chef Rudy) and got a resounding “Yes Chef” in response. Fuck that was amazing. I mean really amazing to hear everyone respond like that… it hit me emotionally and I fought the urge to cry. It totally fueled me.
As everyone got to work doing their prep, I started make my round checking things out. No one really needed my help or input at the point, they were all true pros, but I wanted them to know I had their backs. Once the restaurant filled up and the orders poured in, the kitchen was on fire (figuratively, not literally). I examined every plate before it went our into the dining room to ensure perfection, the team was amazing and made me look good. Missy was the only dark spot in the night, I swear everything she worked on had to be fixed… it was all rookie mistake stuff, little shit like the wrong sized plates, or the garnish was missing or just completely wrong, that kind of stuff. Nothing major, just off enough to make me look bad, I swear it was every damn dish. Finally, near the end of the night, after correcting her about a thousand times I was about to lose it on her! I inspected her latest plate, set it down loudly on the stainless steel rack (loud enough to turn heads in the kitchen), opened my mouth and started with, “You’ve screwed up every damn plate tonight.” That’s when I noticed the disrespectful smirk on her face and saw Chef Telly “observing” me from behind her. That’s when it hit me… I was about to give Missy exactly what she wanted. She wanted me to break under the pressure, she wanted me to fuck up in front of everyone. I took a deep breath, swallowed my words, and changed course. “We’ve been crazy busy tonight, I know you’re doing your best to keep up, why don’t you just observe Janet for the rest of the night, she’s got this down. You can learn a lot from her.” Janet was another assistant, she was sweet, good at her job, and had only been there a week… I knew that would kill Missy. The smirk fell from her face and steam came out of her ears (okay, the steam was from a pot behind her, but it looked like it came out of her ears and that made me giggle inside). She was pissed, but she did as she was told. The rest of the night ran smoothly.
When we were cleaning up after service that night, Chef Telly asked me to step in his office and take a seat. He sat across his desk from me and said, “you did good tonight.” That was it, but that was all I needed. I could not contain my smile, “Chef Rudy called and said he was feeling a little better but thought it was best if he stayed home another day. So, you up for doing this again tomorrow?”
“Yes, sir” was my instant response.
“Good, it was fun watching you in action tonight. We’ve all been watching you, Colton. When do you finish school?”
“I graduate in December” I responded meekly. Then he asked me some questions about our restaurant, and cooking, and even the process. He asked me a lot of questions. It was like he was quizzing me… not to brag, but I nailed every damn question (note: I’ve worked and studied my ass off for almost two years, and I’m damn good at what I do). Our touch base ended with Chef Telly telling me That he and Chef Rudy have their eyes on me, and hoped I would stick around after I graduated, “you’re good, you could have a great future here.” I had grand visions of being a Head Chef, and maybe even owning my own restaurant someday, maybe this was the path I needed to follow… who knows, but the fact that I was getting noticed made me proud as fuck… I couldn’t wait to get home and tell Craig. Our conversation moved into the specials for Saturday night, Chef Telly even asked for my input. We talked about the fresh snapper that was coming in and I shared an idea for a recipe I had been working on… we talked about some nuances to make it better and he told me to go for it! He was letting me help with the menu and use one of my own recipes… again, this may sound like nothing, but it was huge to me. After our meeting I went back to the kitchen to finish up, I took inventory of some things I’d need and even got a few things ready to go for the next day.
On the way home that night, I was blasting some of my favorite tunes in the GTI and singing (horribly) at the top of my lungs. I was so damn proud of myself, but even more, I couldn’t wait to tell Craig. It was late, and he had gone over to Seth and Zach’s for Pizza night, so I figured he’d be asleep when I got home, but when I pulled into the driveway, I saw the living room lights were still on (yes! He was still up).
I walked in the house to find him sleeping on the couch watching TV (god, he was so cute when he slept). He tried to wait up for me… how freaking cute is that?! I woke him up with a kiss. “Hey, how was your night?” He asked quietly through his grogginess.
“Fucking great!” I yelled startling the hell out of him and making him laugh, then I babbled on and on about everything from the team giving me my first real ‘yes Chef,’ to Missy being a jealous bitch, to my conversation with Chef Telly. Craig listened to every word with a smile on his face, he knew how much this meant to me. “Hey, I know you’re tired, but have a drink in the hot tub with me before bed. Pleeeeaaaase?” I begged. Harrison and Terrance, our landlords, left their hot tub at the house for us, and it had been getting a lot of (naked) use since Ella moved away to college. Honestly, our house was amazing… we would never be able to afford it if they weren’t giving us an amazing deal, they even set us up on a lease to own deal so part of our rent went towards a down payment if we decided to buy (we planned on doing it someday). They did it so we’d have a nice place to raise Ella.
Craig smirked, I knew he was tired, but he could tell I was excited and not ready to call it a night. “Fine, I’ll get naked with you in the hot tub” he said with an exaggerated sigh. “The shit I do to keep my husband happy.” With that, I pulled him out of the chair.
I ran upstairs to get out of my work clothes, by the time I got out to the deck wrapped in a towel, he was already in the tub and had a cocktail waiting for me. The steam bellowing around him gave me a quick honeymoon flashback to our steam room adventure, I was smiling as I dropped my towel. “I brought you a towel” I said as I stepped down into the tub.
I started to sit next to Craig when I felt his hands on my hips. His strong arms pulled me onto his lap. After a little maneuvering, I was sitting between his toned thighs. I leaned against his taut chest and just basked in the moment… damn it felt good to relax after the night I’d had. I was still babbling about my amazing night and how excited I was to see what people thought of my snapper recipe. I could feel Craig chuckle under me, he was getting a kick out of my excitement. It wasn’t long before I could feel his manhood getting hard as it nestled in my ass crack. Although we’d been hot tubbing naked a lot since Ella moved out, we hadn’t officially had hot tub sex.
On our wedding night we vowed to have sex every day, it was kind of a joke, but at the same time took the challenge seriously… and we were nailing it (and each other). I woke Craig up with a BJ on Friday morning, but technically it was after midnight, so this was Saturday sex… so if you think about it, I would already be checking something off my to-do list for Saturday… hey, there’s nothing wrong with overachieving. Right?
I wiggled my tight ass, rubbing it on his big, hard cock, even with the pulsating jets all around us I could feel it throbbing. I threw my head back and enjoyed the moment, I opened my eyes in the throes of it, and couldn’t see a damn thing. We lived in the middle of f’ing-nowhere and the fall sky was so damn dark, not to mention it was so damn quiet. My mind started calculating… it was our three week anniversary (yeah, I know, I know counting weeks is corny as hell) so that means we’d had sex at least twenty one times, and considering all our extra sessions on the honeymoon I’m gonna say more like thirty times in three weeks but it was still exciting as hell. Craig push up against me while I grinded my little ass into him. His lips gave my neck tiny kisses until I turned and kissed him, it quickly turned into a major make out session. His hands were all over my body and his hardness was sliding up and down my crack. He reached down and tried to line himself up with my hole, I flipped around so we were face to face and then impaled myself on him.
Okay… side note here… when we first moved in together, my sister Ella asked me the ever annoying question of “which on of you is the girl” (god, I hate that question! We’re both obviously men). I bring it up now because we were both very versatile, there were times where I wanted to give and times where I wanted my ass plowed. That night was a ‘plow my ass’ kinda night. I moved myself up and down on his divining rod, before I knew it, I was bouncing on him while we made out. After several minutes I stood on the benches of the hot tub and pushed my pole in his mouth, Craig didn’t object… instead he licked me like a lollipop. Eventually he took me in his mouth then down his throat. I was all the way in, my cock was engulfed and my wet pubes were tickling his nostrils. Craig gagged and choked, so I pulled back to let him catch his breath before going back in full force and face-fucking the hell out of him. He gagged, and choked again, but he kept pulling my ass harder against him… he was fucking loving it. “I’m coming” I shouted into the night air, my voice echoing in the night air. I was holding his head steady as I unloaded my shotgun down his throat.
I finally pulled out and looked down, Craig’s face was highlighted by the moonlight and I could see the tears in his glossy eyes and the spit on his face. “Holy fuck, Colt” he said through panting breaths. “You’ve never fucked my face that hard before.”
I felt so bad about my lust-fueled assault, “I’m sorry” I said apologetically… god I felt horrible.
“Are you kidding? I fucking loved it!” He said smiling through his tear soaked eyes. “Now sit your fine ass back down on my cock, it’s my turn.” He pulled my hips onto him and started fucking me. Again, I was bouncing in wild abandon as he pummeled my ass. He got to the brink and lifted me off him. “Fuck that was close” he said. After a few seconds break, he started again. He was edging himself in my ass. This went on for a while until he quickened his face and let his load loose in my bowels. Even after he shot, he kept going like the energizer bunny, fucking in and out of me. When he was done, I just sat there impaled on his softening manhood, my wet body against his. We just sat there holding each other in the hot tub, in the darkness, with just a little moonlight, and a slight chill from the night air. It felt amazing to be together like that. Eventually we got up, dried off, and went to bed… I spooned Craig to sleep.
I slept in on Saturday morning, I was wiped out from work and I knew I had another action-pack night ahead of me. I got up about 10AM and poured myself a barely warm cup of coffee, it had clearly been sitting in the pot for a few hours. Craig walked in from the garden with a bushel full of cucumbers, green beans, and peppers, herbs etc., “Good morning, Chef” he said with a smile. “How’s your ass?” He chuckled.
“Sore and happy” I replied. “What’s all that?”
“For you. For tomorrow.”
“Oh shit! I forgot!” With all the excitement at work, I forgot that Max and Seth invited me to join them for this thing they called “Pickling Day.” It was kind of a country tradition that BA and Max started. I guess Max was feeling out of place when he first moved out to the North Carolina countryside, so BA (his mother in-law) tried to make him feel more at home by spending some quality time with him and teaching him how to pickle. From what I heard, they got drunk on moonshine and pickled themselves while pickling everything else in sight. Max and BA really bonded. Anyway, it became and annual thing and every year they added new people to the mix, and this yer it was me. It felt like kind of a rite of passage, I was the first villager to be invited… it meant a lot to me because they were accepting me as one for their own; an adult, not just one of the kids anymore. They invited Craig too, but spending a day in the kitchen sounded like hell to him... however… geeking over which cucumbers, vegetables, and herbs to plant and grow for pickling… was right up his alley. “Damn look at all this shit” I said as I went through the bushel.
“Shit? Shit?!” Craig said in a loud voice. “This is a bushel or perfect pickling specimens. And this dill? You can’t buy this quality!” Then he proceeded to go through everything in the bushel… I just rolled my eyes at him, but I really loved how into it he was.
I made it through another night as Sous-chef, the second night was so much easier, and the response to my snapper recipe was nothing but positive (Chef Telly himself told me he thought it was amazing)… I could not have been prouder. The crew treated me with respect, except Missy of course. She was pulling the same bullshit and I was about to go off on her when Chef Telly stepped in, “Missy, we’re a team, if you can’t play that way go home.”
She just stared at him for a tense moment and said, “Yes Chef, I can be a team player” in a defeated voice.
“Good, go bus tables, you’re off the grill for the rest of the night.” Then he assigned another team member to the grill. He gave me a nod before he walked away. He knew I could handle it, but he decided Missy was his problem not mine. Instead of dealing with her, I focused on making sure every plate that left my kitchen was pure perfection. Honestly, my weekend as sous-chef went off without a hitch, it was stressful, chaotic, and everything I hoped it would be. I was more fueled than ever to finish school and move on to better things.
I woke up the next morning excited for Pickling Day. BA gave us a few cases of jars, a huge pot, and a pickling starter kit with everything I needed as a wedding gift, It was one of my favorites… yeah, yeah, yeah, we got the honeymoon and so many other generous gifts, but this was more than a material gift, it was like a welcome to the grownup’s table kind of gift. Okay, okay, to be more specific: It was a gift of acceptance. She saw us as part of them, and that meant something to me. We had seamlessly grown from villagers to part of The Village… we belonged there. Anyway, Craig helped me haul all the supplies out of the cellar, I organized it with all the stuff Craig had picked from the garden then we loaded it in the GTI. Craig gave me a ride to BroMax Farm, he only stayed for a few minutes to help me unload and greet everyone, he was excited to get home and spend the day working on the yard… that was his happy place. Mine was in the kitchen.
Once everyone had arrived, we went through all the stuff we had each brought, and got our gameplan together. There were a lot of people there! Max, Seth, BA, Gina, Riley (Zach’s sister), and me. The kitchen was a little crowded and loud as everyone talked and laughed. They wanted to know all about our honeymoon, especially Seth, he and Zach went to the same place on their honeymoon. We both told stories about luaus and bike rides down the volcano, then the others told their honeymoon stories. “Shit, me and Daddy took the RV to South of The Border in South Carolina and had a helluva good time” BA said, getting in the last word before we all got serious about pickling.
The BroMax kitchen was big and open with a 6-burner gas stove (there was another stove out in the guest house too). It didn’t take long before every burner had a pot of water boiling on top of it, and everyone was filling jars with their favorite vegetables and spices. BA pulled out a bottle of moonshine, poured a couple of fingers for each of us into a jar, and stopped all the pickling action for a minute to officially start the day. We all picked one up and BA asked loudly, “What’s the first thing we pickle on Picklin’ Day?” Our gang shouted back enthusiastically “ourselves” and then everyone took their first sip… except me, I did it like a shot. I never had moonshine before and had no clue… um… HOLY FUCK, YOU GUYS!!! My mouth was on fire, my throat burned, water poured from my eyes. It was fucking torture. All eyes were on me and the first big laugh of the day was at my expense as I lost my moonshine cherry in front of everyone.
“Welcome to the grown up table, darlin” BA laughed as she slapped me on the back, and with that, my first Pickling Day had officially begun. The rest of the day we all talked, laughed, pickled stuff, and drank. There was such a sense of camaraderie and community in that house over… well nothing really. Putting vegetables and herbs from our gardens in jars? They turned making pickles into a reason to celebrate being together. I felt so freaking lucky to be part of it. These people were my world.
To be continued…
Author's note:
HAPPY 4TH OF JULY!!!
As I post this, I'm traveling back the country roads of GA, SC, and NC on my annual trek to the land of The Village to celebrate Independence Day. This year I made a detour to hang out with The Donling for an all too short visit. He sends his regards and says to tell you that he and Ash have been talking and the next chapter of Just Ash is about halfway there. He's feeling good at the moment so progress continues! And by the way.... all that "never meet your heroes" stuff is bullshit. I just met one of my favorite authors and it WAS all that!
