Lodge at Lake Tecumseh

Sean felt Peter tensing his abs and thighs and then he felt the blast--even through the latex. It was hot, boiling hot, and swirling around in the cap like the roiling waters of a flood-swollen rapids. This guy was really a champ. He was hard as a rock. He stroked, served, and slammed with the best--and then he delivered the kill-shot--a bulb filled with his seed and spunk. He had just won a Grand Slam. Sean felt like his sweat-soaked victory towel--or maybe his moist hot jock. But, he didn't get a victory handshake; he got something much better--he got off, big time. Peter raised his cum-filled fist to Sean's mouth and offered it to the vanquished boy. "Drink this for me. I want a rematch. Thursday, same time. Now, get the fuck out of here."

And, as quickly as it started, it was over. But, it was almost 4:30. Peter rose and headed for the shower. Sean dressed and slipped out of the room. Only when he reached his own cubicle to change for the dinner shift did he realize that several hundred had been placed in the back pocket of the shorts. Not a bad afternoon of tennis.

*************

When Sean entered the dining room for dinner, it was already filling. Apparently New Englanders liked early dinners--or suppers, as they called them. There would be entertainment tonight, so the room would be very quiet by 8:45. Of course, the O'Neill-McGraths entered and took their customary by-the-window table. It had a spectacular view of the lake--even though the sunset was hours away. Not all vacationers chose to end their outdoor days so early. So the lake was still filled with sails and party-boats with guests sipping cocktails.

Sean took their order, giving no indication that anything was different. He continued to fawn over Mrs. O'Neill, but was attentive to all. That night, six of his ten tables had elected to arrive early. So Sean was running to keep up with the orders. Wine bottles were opened. Three courses were ordered and delivered flawlessly--Sean never had to ask for whom a specific dish was--he remembered from the order. Thus, there was little time for entertainment with his funny comments or teases. He realized it probably would be a pretty dry night for tips. He really didn't have the time to cultivate--or make anyone feel particularly special. Thankfully, with the early rush, Sean had moments to breathe toward the end--and he was able to sign out at 9. He was pleased. He intended to accept John Jacob's invitation (Sean had winked at him surreptitiously as the family rose to leave)--but he needed time to shower. There had been no time when he left Peter's room only minutes before he was due in the restaurant. So, he walked back to the cubicle, stripped and took a long semi-hot shower. After nine, employees who were not assigned to room service or other restaurant responsibilities could dress as they wished. Sean decided on Irish linen slacks and a button up shirt, but in a show of independence, he went commando and sockless. When he left the dorm, it was nearly deserted. Obviously, it was going to be a party night for the staff.

Shortly after ten, he was quietly moving toward Room 624--after carefully scoping the corridor. (He didn't want to be seen by any other family members, for he assumed that John Jacob and Peter were not sharing partners.) He knocked. It opened and he walked in. "Sean, I'm JJ. Glad you could be here."

As usual, Sean waited to be cued by his patron--even though JJ was younger and smaller than he was. JJ was dressed only in boxer briefs and a white tee. He was barefoot. Probably around 5-10, with straight silver blond hair, sky blue eyes and a tanned, but clear skin. He was slight in build, but not skinny. There was little doubt that he was being groomed as the perfect WASP heir to the family's position and fortune.

"Would you like a drink? I have scotch, gin, mixers and beer."

So this was going to be slower and more social. He detected that JJ was not entirely comfortable with this style of "date." "A beer would be great. Thank you."

"You can get comfortable if you wish."

"I'm commando--so if I get more comfortable, I will be naked. Would that shock you?"

"Not at all. My frat at BC, it seems, is populated mostly by nudists. I think many of these guys are over-reacting to mater's puritanical upbringing. They've escaped. And so days and nights are filled with nudity, alcohol, and, of course sex."

"Do you have a boyfriend, JJ?"

"No. In fact, I've been experimenting with both boys and girls for the last couple of years. I know that Peter is bi--but he's not my Dad, so I really don't care. I don't confide in him. I'm not naïve. I know he's come on to me a few times, but I've ignored it, feigning distaste. And mother and I don't talk--she lectures, so I've never discussed this with anyone other than a stranger."

"I've known that I was gay for several years. Mum and Pop both know. They're disappointed--they want grandchildren with their last name; but they don't give me any grief about it. I just need to be discrete in our hometown--since they own the pub and they don't want to chase away business if they don't have to."

"What do you want from me tonight, JJ?"

"If you're up for it, I'd like to fuck you--and be fucked by you, with lots of physical contact. No quickies. I'd like you to spend the night. When do you report tomorrow?"

"I will need to leave by 6. My breakfast waiter uniform is back in the dorm and I report at 6:45." This was going to be his first all-nighter at the Lodge.

"I'll take that as a yes to my questions." With those words, he stripped off his tee and boxers, stood and spun around in front of Sean, showing off his lithe, small body--but his out-sized cock and balls. Sean followed and stripped. Then he pulled JJ onto the bed and embraced him. The air-conditioned room was cool. So Sean pulled JJ up and they slipped under the light coverlet. This was going to be a long slow romantic evening--Sean's favorite. He immediately went in for a deep, soul-searching kiss. JJ responded with passion that contrasted with his aloof WASP demeanor. JJ was, deep down, a firebrand--like those proper Victorian maidens who, when kissed and their bodices unlaced, became tigers. JJ rolled on top of Sean and took his head into both hands and plunged his tongue inside while sucking hard on Sean's supple lips. Sean scissored open his legs; JJ dropped in; and Sean engulfed his thighs with his long strong legs. The guys were one--in sync, attached, breathing together, hands roaming bodies in stimulation. Sean rolled and found himself on top. His head dropped down and he took each nipple in turn into his mouth, sucking and even pressing his teeth lightly into the flesh. JJ bucked. Sean felt his precum.

"Shall I take you first? I'm clean--I was tested before I took this job and I've wrapped every time since."

"Yes, take me. I'm clean. I'm practically an anal virgin--and I've always insisted on safety."

"Does that mean we can dispense with wrappers?"

"Yes. And, you'll find plenty of lube under the pillow."

Sean rolled back onto his knees, reached under the pillow and placed the tube next to them. Then he reached for JJ's ankles, lifted them and placed them on his shoulders. He knew that this would take some preparation--JJ was probably inexperienced and tight and Sean knew he was a good size. And so he began the exciting task of opening a new lover. He was gentle and careful, frequently bending forward to take JJ's mouth in his. He distracted with frequent strokes of JJ's red hot shaft and big wrinkly balls. He licked JJ's taint and sucked on the pink-turning-red rim. JJ was incredibly passionate and responsive. He was definitely not a stone-faced WASP. And Sean guessed that he was more experienced than he had let on. Soon Sean had three fingers inside and was sawing, stroking the prostate with each pass.

"Stick it in now, Sean. Or I'm going to cum alone. I want to feel you inside."

So Sean removed his fingers, gave them to JJ to suck, as Sean aimed at the throbbing opening. He pushed and the head sunk in. JJ grimaced, but used his hands to pull Sean's ass closer--and his cock deeper. JJ wanted this. He wanted it to hurt. So Sean allowed himself to be drawn full in, his balls tapping on JJ's smooth ass cheeks. Then he paused to allow JJ to recover and stretch. He learned over and kissed him again. Sean released JJ's calves, and JJ drew them tight around Sean's waist, trapping him hard inside. Sean tried a short pump. But JJ was having nothing of this soft sex. When Sean pumped, JJ rose up to meet him and used the heels of his feet to pull Sean ever-deeper. The pain was gone; pleasure, deep in his gut, took over. The strokes became longer and harder--and with each Sean stiffened his legs and drew in his abs.

"I'm cuming, JJ. Are you ready?" Before he could even answer, and without even touching his dick, JJ began to shoot long strands of creamy white cum on their chests. Each shot caused anal muscle contractions and Sean felt himself milked dry. Sean collapsed onto JJ, his head falling into the pillow beside him. JJ turned, smiled and gently kissed Sean. They were no longer chilled by the AC.

"That was worth waiting for. Sean, you're a champion lover." (With those words, Sean was drawn back to his own word choices that afternoon with Peter. Once again, he wondered whether Peter and JJ had a thing going.)

The rest of the night was similar. JJ fumbled a bit the first time (yes, they each had more than one chance to top) he tried to penetrate Sean's muscular bubble butt, but he did manage to get it in before he ejaculated. JJ was a gentle lover, but an excitable young man, ready to jack at any stimulation. He used his mouth to arouse and pleasure. He used his hands to caress. And throughout, joy radiated from his big blue eyes. He was discovering a new dimension of himself, getting into receiving from and giving pleasure to a man. And his confidence was blossoming. Given their ages, the guys were indefatigable, rising to a new occasion only minutes after a complete drain. Each event was longer, sweeter, and better. Between each bout, the guys dozed, hugged, and spooned. By the end of the night, each knew the pleasure points of the other and each's idiosyncratic pre-orgasmic sounds. Sean felt this was definitely more than a hook; it was the beginning of a relationship. But, he knew that relationships with guests were impossible. And this guy, though only a year younger than Sean, was just a boy, obviously still dependent on Mom and Dad for everything.

The alarm sounded at 5:45. JJ's head was on his chest; his body was on its side, resting against Sean; his left thigh was stretched atop Sean's legs--so their genitals rested together. And JJ's left fist was tightly around Sean's morning wood. This was JJ's version of a gentle spoon. Sean carefully removed the thigh and opened JJ's fist. Then, he quietly rose and dressed. JJ rolled over, smiled at Sean--a smile of utter contentment and pleasure, closed his eyes and slept on.

Sean went to the door, peaked out and carefully padded down the corridor. Just as he opened the firedoor to descend, Peter's door opened. He was dressed for his daily early morning gym work out. Sean had quickly slipped through but Peter spotted the back of the redhead as the door closed behind him. "Was that Sean? Where had he been all night?" Of course, he realized there were more than 50 rooms on the sixth floor. It could have been any of them. He didn't suspect his step-son, the weak little boy. But, now he knew Sean was a whore.

Sean dragged into his dorm, showered and dressed. (Only later in the day, did he find the note in the pocket of his "civvie" linen pants: "Again please. How about Saturday, same time, same place?" Then he noticed the hundreds--he same that Peter had given him. He wondered if that was the going rate. Or whether Peter and JJ had talked. So it was a rent-boi hook after all, he thought. He frowned. Several guys noticed and kidded him about "overnights" before work days. "Don't look to us to take up the slack today because you were out catting all night. Is she a guest--or a townie?"

"I don't kiss--or fuck--and tell, blokes. Put your tongues back in your mouths. Let's go to work. We're not even half way through the summer."

********

JJ didn't show for breakfast. He had left a message for his mother that he wasn't feeling well. She threatened to call the hotel doctor, but he asked her to wait until later in the day. He was sure it was nothing. Sean noticed that Peter was unusually interested in the back of his head. Did he have a hickey? Was something else awry? After the breakfast service, Sean returned to the dorm and slept for nearly all the time between the two services. At least lunch today was buffet--so his responsibilities were easier and he could coast. Of course, he realized that Peter was expecting him after 3. JJ was at lunch. Mary Louise watched him carefully, until she was satisfied that he had recovered. Then she took over the conversation and began pontificating about corrupt Boston politicians.

Sean was unaware of how long each guest might stay at the Lodge. But Mary Louise's comments made it clear that she expected to stay until mid-August, a total of about six weeks, with several two day returns to Boston for medical appointments. Peter needed to leave the following week--for business meetings, but would then return. JJ and his sister were planning to stay on until mid-August, when they needed to get to Boston, JJ to prepare for the next school year. So Sean now knew their schedule--although he wasn't sure of the implications for him (except of course for that afternoon with Peter and possibly Saturday night with JJ).

After lunch, he walked back to the dorm with one of his few friends--a fellow Irishman from Cork who had worked at the Lodge for three years and thus was a veteran. He started the conversation carefully. "Do you have any idea how many staff have sex with guests?"

"Probably many, but I really don't know."

"Do guests usually tip when it happens?"

"Again, I really don't know, but I assume so. Why, have you received an invitation?"

"I was just wondering. It doesn't seem that we're doing very well with mealtime tips. I'm not going to make as much as I thought when I took the job."

"Guests tend to be long term--and they tend to tip near the end of their stays. I've heard that some tips are for services outside the dining room. And the number I've heard most often is a hundred dollars--but that may be old news. Be careful, Sean. Even though management tends to look the other way with staff engaging with guests, if the guest complains, the staff member gets canned. If you think it's a one-time thing, that's probably okay. But, don't get involved. You're going home in six weeks. There is no future. And if the guest begins to think she's got you and you cross her, you could lose your job and your share of the tip pool. I hope she's worth it."

"Thanks, Kyle. But saying no in the first place carries just as much risk. We poor Irish boys don't stand a chance of working this system."

"Good luck. I guess in this instance I'm happy that I don't have the sex appeal you have. No one bothers to hit on me. I'm too ugly. Our Irish ancestors have been taking it in the ass from these New England Brahmans for generations. We aren't going to change it in a summer."

Sean snickered to himself. Little did Kyle realize how accurate his observation was: Sean was taking it in the ass from two different New England Brahmans! And they were paying for the privilege. But, now he had to be careful that the situation did not blow up in his face.

A little over an hour later, he was at Peter's door. Once again Mary Louise was at bridge and then would go to tea. "In the bedroom now. Strip and spread eagle on the bed, belly down." Peter seemed disturbed, and Sean assumed he was in for a punishing encounter.

"Just keep in mind that I need to work in less than two hours."

"Do as you're told, slut. I need to dump some aggression. I lost at tennis this morning. I still haven't healed this damn shoulder. Mary Ellen was a bitch. She thinks I've got a chambermaid on the side. And I'm assuming you are doing this with others as well. I'm pretty sure I saw you sneaking out of the Lodge early yesterday morning."

It seemed that Peter was pissed that his assignations were limited to an hour or so because of Mary Ellen--and he was jealous that some other guest had had me for the night. It didn't seem that he and JJ were talking. Sean decided not to deny--in fact not to speak at all. He couldn't win.

Peter dropped his robe, but took the tie, fastened a few knots in the end and began to stroke Sean across his cheeks. The first few were light and sexy. Then Peter got into it and snapped him a few more times, reddening the flesh and leaving some marks. Sean took it all stoically. Then Peter climbed on, slapped Sean's legs farther apart, knelt behind him, lubed his wrapped cock, but not Sean, and without further prep, harshly pulled Sean into his lap, impaling him to the hilt in one stroke. Sean gasped and teared up. And Peter smiled and fisted and squeezed Sean's hard cock, holding Sean in place with this "handle". A few strokes later, Peter exploded--without warning, without any attempt to bring Sean along with him, and without further words. He rose and threw Sean's shorts on the bed. This was going to be a quick one set aced match.

"I'm leaving tomorrow. You're a good lay, Sean, but really nothing special. Maybe I'll teach you some tricks when I return. Now get that tight little cunt out of here. And try not to catch an STD from other guests while I'm away. Keep that pussy clean and tight for me."

Sean dressed and returned to the dorm with just enough time to shower and dress for the dinner service. But this time, he found only a hundred in the pocket. Peter apparently thought he was entitled to a 50% discount for a ten minute cum dump with one of the the Lodge's sluts. Or maybe that was a farewell fuck. Sean began to wonder how he would handle the future if Peter asked him again.

Peter left the next day--Saturday, and Sean realized he had a rare Sunday off coming up. He had planned to go into the small town south of the Lodge, but decided not to make any plans until after his next session with JJ later that night.

Saturday was a long hard day. It was a day of transition--guests leaving, guests arriving--and mealtimes, particularly lunch were really hectic with the increased demand. He had barely an hour between the two shifts--which he used to take a short nap before dressing for dinner service.

Peter was absent from the table, but Mary Louise had filed the empty chair with a friend, Liam, from another Boston family. He seemed to be in his late twenties. He was clearly a "black Irishman" with dark shaggy hair, a ruddy complexion, a sullen, threatening mouth, and dark brown, almost black eyes. He was very attractive in a rough sense and spoke with a thicker brogue than Sean's. Sean pegged him as associated with the Free Ireland movement, maybe even Sein Fein, both known for violence--and both quietly supported by Boston's nouveau Irish wealth. Mary Louise seemed almost relieved that Peter was away. She was joking, smiling, frequently placing her hand on Liam's arm. Was he hers or being groomed for Mary Ellen? On second thought, Sean concluded that it was the mother who had re-filled their table. She had a boi-toy. But he didn't look like a boy--he was a big, threatening man, projecting danger, and, perhaps to Mary Louise, excitement. Was he the new big-dicked gigilo? He certainly didn't seem at all interested in Sean. Meanwhile, JJ seemed to ignore most of it, although his eyes never left Sean when he was within a line of sight.

They all lingered that night until well past the beginning of the show. Obviously, they had other plans. Soon however they left--but as he was clearing, Sean noticed that Mary Louise had left several hundred under her plate. This was, after all, the center point of their holiday. So maybe she felt she had to keep Sean on his toes for the rest of the trip--so a nice tip half way through might do the trick. Or maybe she was anticipating an exciting night in bed with Liam. He did look like he might give her a good ride. JJ and Mary Ellen left together in conversation, perhaps embarrassed by their mother's obviousness. The boy was about half her age.