Leaping Into the Quarry
Chapter 4
Two weeks later, when we got to the farm for Bess’s delivery, Robert was gone. According to Ted, his new friend stayed with him in the bunkhouse for a couple of days, and then they disappeared without saying a word. Ted was more concerned about Boris than Robert, and asked if we had seen him after their fight. We told him that Boris was with us. He was pleased. We made him promise not to mention it to Robert, if he ever showed up.
We got to the paddock where Doc had Bess under constant monitoring. He seemed concerned, but didn’t tell us why. Doc, in his stained jacket and undershirt, had his hands and arms covered in plastic sleeves ready to help Bess give birth, if she needed it. The sleeves prevented him from pulling up his jeans, which were down exposing a good half of his butt crack. Zack and I smiled at each other. A little small talk occurred, as Bess fidgeted uncomfortably. We watched her for hours. Violet came down with hot coffee and freshly baked banana bread. I fed Doc the bread, as he held his cream-and-sugar-loaded coffee. After midnight, we could see the colt’s snout push out. Suddenly, without Doc’s assistance, the colt squirted out onto the fresh hay. The messy placenta followed, which Doc quickly cut, before attending to the colt. The little male was snowy white, even though he was sticky and wet. Bess pushed Doc away, as she cleaned her baby.
Doc stepped back and stood beside us on the stall gate. “Textbook, couldn’t have been better. Damn, it’s a stud. You guys can go to bed now, if you want to. I want to make sure the colt stands up before I leave.” We stayed. Minutes passed before mother prodded the colt. First, he placed his back feet under himself, before pushing up with his front feet. He stood, wobbling. He fell backwards, but his mother was there to keep him upright. “We’re in the clear. I’ll check on them in the morning. I want to give him a shot before I go home. Any room in the bunkhouse?”
“Plenty. I’m starving. I’ll go up to the house and see what I can scrounge up.”
Violet’s voice came into our space, “I brought sandwiches, a six-pack and some of your favorite brownies.”
Doc looked at Zack and me, “She knows me too well. I want to shower before I touch the food. Let’s go.”
He stopped at his truck and gathered up some clean clothes and his toilettes. Once inside, he stripped. We got to see the other half of his beautiful bubble butt, plus his ample front side. Before showering, he stood with us near the stove and casually discussed the delivery. My dick was pushing hard against my jeans and his smile told me he was aware. I suspected Zack was in the same situation, but I was afraid to look. Finally, he walked into the bathroom, as we watched his butt disappear behind the shower curtail. I whispered to Zack, “He’s not my type, but maybe I could get used to him.”
Zack said, “Get in line.”
Minutes later, Doc joined us, wrapped in a too-small towel that barely covered the essentials. We ate the sandwiches and drank the beer before the red hot stove. Doc gobbled down two of the brownies. “She makes the best brownies.” They definitely seemed to be working on him. As he rose, his towel fell off. He didn’t seem to notice, as he pulled back the covers and got into bed. His snoring seemed to start instantly.
“I’m glad that’s over. Want to join me in bed.”
“Happily.”
Before we woke up, Doc was gone, as were the remaining brownies. Zack, Violet, Ted and I stood for a long time, watching the little colt find his source of nourishment. I filled the oat bucket twice, so Bess could get her strength back. Violet said, “I’ll take good care of him. He is so darling.”
After she left, Ted said, “What are you guys going to do about Boris?”
“He’s become our live-in housekeeper and cook.”
Zack added, “He’s going back to his family in the spring. You should drop by for dinner sometime, when you’re in Normal. Let us know, and we will make sure he has his clothes on.”
Ted laughed, “What do you mean?
Zack looked at me before deciding to tell him the truth, “Well, I made the mistake of jokingly telling Boris he could stay as our cook and house-boy, if he was naked. He took me seriously and rarely wears anything around the house.”
Ted knowing Robert’s interest in Boris said, “Is he a good three-way partner?”
“We don’t know and don’t plan to find out. He does a great job at the gym, where he has taken personal interest in a challenging student.”
The following Tuesday afternoon at 4:30, Zack, along with five others, two girls and three boys, and Coach met at the power station to start the leaping class. The windows under the eaves provided soft, but sufficient light. The flying platform, which we constructed, was about six feet above the main platform. There was palpable tension among the students, who stood with me and Coach on the big platform.
After the mumbling stopped, I said, “Welcome to Leaping 101. I see you are all wearing either leotards or tight shorts and tank tops. You might want to buy knitted warm up sleeves for your arms and legs. You can get them at the dance store downtown. We’re going to start with an important basic. The bar can be rough on your hands and, even covered with rosin, your hands will get raw. It is important that you thoroughly wash off all the rosin and moisturize your hands after every class. You will get blisters, but that’s par for the course. Those of you who have worked on rings may have used the hand grips to protect your hands. We aren’t going to use them in the beginning, but I won’t rule them out for later.”
A hand went up. “Coach, how often are we going to meet? Can we come here on our own to practice?”
“Good questions: We will meet Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. Saturday morning is optional. You can come outside of class, but you must have a partner. Each of you will be given a key to the building. Only you and your partner are allowed. No one else is allowed in during the first month unless you get permission from me or Coach. You must always have at least one other class member here with you. Any questions?” I paused waiting but heard none, I continued, “Today we are going to learn the correct way to drop into the net. I asked Zack, who has done this before, to demonstrate.”
Zack climbed to the flying platform, hooked the bar and pulled it toward him. He grabbed the bar and swung out. On the return, he let go and dropped onto his back with a swoosh into the net. He bounced a couple of times before moving to the edge for his somersault onto the ground. “Who wants to try it?” A well-built guy, with a blue tank top and surfer trunks, stepped forward. I asked if he wanted the safety harness which Boris was holding, but he declined. He climbed up and followed Zack’s exact procedure. When he released, he fell too far onto his neck and shoulders. Once on the ground, he rubbed his neck. I called, “You see how easy it is to hurt yourself, if you don’t fall into the net properly? And after each lesson, you might want to trade off giving each other a massage. You’re going to be using muscles that you haven’t used before.”
The other students tried, each in the safety harness. Two times each was enough for our first day. Coach was pleased, saying, “You’re a natural instructor. I hope you keep going for your degree. You can have my job someday.” I appreciated the compliment. Late afternoon of the next day, Zack, Coach and I walked through the darkened gym. I could hear voices. We didn’t see anything, until we reached the room where we practiced floor exercises. We silently watched, as Boris lay on a pile of floor mats. He ordered Mike, the Italian kid, to arch his back and lean back again his feet. Mike lifted his feet off the floor and balanced, holding one of Boris’ hands. He slowly moved Mike around. Mike wobbled, but didn’t fall. He then pushed Mike upright. Mike’s face was glowing proudly, as they walked past us to change clothes. Boris seemed embarrassed. “He wanted to see how Risley felt. He’s good balance. Maybe do it with me someday.” Zack smiled at me and gave me a thumbs up.
Boris fed us well. We studied, but never seemed to find enough time for the gym. Thanksgiving break was coming. We got a call from Violet inviting Zack, Boris and me to Thanksgiving dinner. She added that she was inviting Zack’s mom and dad and Doc. When I told Boris about the invitation, he was indignant. Initially I didn’t understand. Unbeknownst to me, he had planned Thanksgiving dinner for the three of us. I called Violet. Typical of Violet, she said, “I’ll make the turkey and he can make everything else.” When I told him that he would be the chef for the eight of us, he smiled broadly.
We saw little of him over the next week, as he poured over cookbooks looking for recipes. He tried a couple of dishes out on us. One was better than the next. On Wednesday before the big day, he was in the kitchen early, doing his preparations. He cut and chopped and had multiple bowls in the refrigerator by mid-afternoon. I heard him talking to Violet, but couldn’t hear what they discussed. He told us later that he needed to find out what serving pieces she had.
While we weren’t due until 4pm, Boris was ready to go at 8:00am. I decided to drive Boris him out and come back. Zack said that was silly. So we grabbed our warm jackets and boots got into the car. Zack said, “We’ll walk, as he cooks.” As it turned out we probably walked five miles before returning to the bunkhouse. Zack started a fire in the stove, as I took off my jacket and outer clothes, waiting for the water to warm up. Sitting in my long johns, I asked Zack if he was ready for finals, which were in three weeks. “OK, I guess. Organic chemistry is a bitch. It’s the flunk-out class for pre-med. You won’t see much of me, except at practice. I’ll figure this stuff out.” He collapsed in my lap and gave me a big kiss. We didn’t move, as the bunkhouse door opened and Doc stepped in. “Hi guys. Hope I’m not disturbing anything.”
“Nope. Just back from a walk and talking about organic chemistry. Zack’s stressed out about his final in a couple of weeks.”
“Hey, if I can help, let me know. I did really well. Want me to tutor you.”
“I’d rather have you take the exam,” Zack said jokingly and seriously.
“I’ll come to your place any night next week, except Monday. I have a Grange meeting that night.”
“Sure, how about Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, since I think it will take me that long to understand the helix.”
“OK, Tuesday for sure. I understand from Violet, we have a guest chef. Do you know him?”
“Yeah, he lives with us. He’s the guy Robert beat up. Did you hear about that?”
“No, and I’m glad I didn’t. Robert has gone off the deep end. Ted told me.”
Ruggedly handsome, Doc picked up the Modern Farmer magazine. I turned on the tap and the water was warm. I pulled Zack up from the rocking chair and into the bathroom. We squeezed into the shower, hoping the hot water would hold out. After getting out, we dressed, as Doc sat quietly reading. It was time to go up to the big house. We walked in the back door. Boris turned and almost dropped the pan he was carrying. I said, “Boris, this is Doc. He is one of our guests. How is dinner coming?”
Boris’ mouth was wide open, but no words came out. Doc seemed equally in awe. Zack and I looked at each other and shrugged our shoulders. “Let’s go into the living room for some wine.” I grabbed Doc’s arm firmly, because I was afraid he wasn’t going to move.
As we left the kitchen he said, “God, that guy is a hunk. Where did he come from? I could be all over that body.”
I poured him a glass of claret in the parlor where Violet, Ralph and the Lipinski’s were having a conversation. “The chef announced that dinner would be in thirty minutes.” Doc didn’t speak. He got up to go to the kitchen to watch Boris.
Violet popped up, “I better get the turkey carved. Ralph, come along and help me.” They were gone, as the four of us made small talk. Doc returned, sat down, and described his newest patient, the bouncy little white colt that lived in the barn with my three horses. Doc said, “I feel, if he stays healthy, in a couple of years, he could sell for $2,000 and maybe more. Randy, you said your mother told you Bess is a pure Hanoverian, right? Well, the stallion that bred her is mostly Hanoverian with some Lipizzaner.”
“I know Regal is all Hanoverian, too. I’m not sure about Temp. Bess, we got her a couple of years before Mama died. She’s maybe eight or nine, but I don’t know her blood line.”
“Let’s see how the colt does this spring in the pasture. I’ll keep close tabs on him this winter, since he is half mine, right?” he said smiling at me.
“A deal is a deal, ‘cause I couldn’t pay you for all you’ve done. Mine must be the delayed payment plan.” There was laughter, as Violet announced that dinner was ready.
As we walked into the dining room Zack exclaimed, “Whoa, this is beautiful.”
“Haven’t had my mother’s Havilland china out in years. The dinner Boris fixed needs these dishes. The table was set with wine glasses and polished silverware. The food was arranged on the sideboard. Ralph invited Zack’s mom to start the line, and others fell in behind her. Boris stood sheepishly at the door watching, as each of us took one dish after another. Violet’s turkey and walnut dressing were flanked by Boris’ sweet potatoes, swimming in butter with a strong clove aroma; a cauliflower and broccoli casserole, his signature beef bourguignon, white rice mixed with carrots and peas and freshly baked rolls. I knew they were Pillsbury, because I bought them for him. He had olives and little pickled corn in a beautiful crystal compote, which Violet said belonged to my Germany grandmother. The food was more than enough. Everyone was quiet until Boris served himself and sat down.
Ralph raised his glass to toast, “Boris, to you, please come for dinner whenever you want.” Glasses clinked and we ate and talked. Zack and I couldn’t help but notice that Doc made sure he was sitting next to Boris. He put his arm on his shoulder a couple of times. We couldn’t see, but suspected that Doc had his hand on Boris’ thigh.
Dessert was an eight inch tall Black Forest Torte with vanilla ice cream. We were in pain, as we pushed our chairs back from the table. Ralph spoke again, “Happy Thanksgiving everyone. Thank you, Boris, very much.” We applauded him. He blushed, but really loved the attention.
The following Tuesday Doc was on our doorstep ten minutes after we got home from practice. Boris wasn’t home. Doc and Zack started the tutoring session. Their low voices didn’t distract me, as I read my Western Civilization class assignment. At seven o’clock, Boris opened the door and seemed surprised to see Doc. He and Zack barely acknowledged Boris. He went to his room and returned wearing his workout shorts, which left little question what was underneath. He stopped at the table, inches from Doc’s right elbow. He said, “Dinner only leftovers, OK?”
Zack and Doc, without looking up, shook their heads affirmatively. From where I was sitting, I saw Doc pat Boris’ pouch. Boris smiled and went into the kitchen. As the dishes were placed on the table, it became harder for Doc and Zack to continue. With plates and silverware in front of them, they pushed the books aside. Zack said, “You’re a good tutor. I’m beginning to understand how to untangle the helix.”
“It’s a simple system, that’s all. Enough for tonight. Want to try again on Thursday night?”
“Sure, I need all the help I can get.” Dinner proceeded with silverware clicking and ice cubes clinking the side of our glasses, until Doc spoke, “Thought of a name for your colt? I need to register him soon.”
“Never even thought about it. What do you think? He’s half yours.”
“What do you think about Prince Armbusher, in honor of his regal lineage and the location of his birth?”
“Sounds fine to me.”
“Me, too,” Zack chimed in. Boris smiled. After dinner, Doc got up to leave and hugged me, then Zack and, finally, Boris. I saw him slip his hand down the back of Boris shorts, which were obviously tenting.
Boldly I said, “If you guys want to get it on, it’s fine with us. Boris has his own bedroom.”
Doc said, “Thanks, I’ll take you up on the offer, but not tonight. Got an early appointment tomorrow. If I shag this bear, I’m going to do it all night.” Boris didn’t say anything, just held onto Doc.
After Doc closed the door, Boris went to the bathroom. Zack said, as he cleared the dishes, “God, that guy drips sex. I hope we can watch when he and Boris fuck the shit out of each other.”
“Maybe we can sell tickets? You know what? I finally think I understand what the professor is talking about in organic. It’s complicated, but I think I am beginning to understand. Doc will be back on Thursday. I hope he isn’t too distracted.”
Thursday morning, as I was about to leave for class, there was a knock at the front door. Still undressed, since I wasn’t expecting anyone, I called to Boris to get the door. I could hear voices, but couldn’t tell what was being said. I went into the living room; there were three big boxes, the size of washer/dryer boxes. I knew we didn’t order any appliances. “What the…What’s in them?”
Boris smiled, “My Risley stuff.” He opened the first box and pulled out a chair contraption covered in red carpet. The second box contained a large, painted child’s toy block. The final box, which was smaller, contained a giant rubber ball painted like a #8 cue ball.
“Where you going to keep this stuff? Not here, I hope.”
“At the leap room, in the corner. It OK with Coach. Will you drive me over?”
I couldn’t right then, but agreed that we’d take it Saturday morning, when he and Mike were planning to work out.
When Doc walked in for tutoring, he tripped over the chair. “Is this your new S&M chair?” He lay back on the device with his feet in the air.
Boris said seriously, “My Risley stuff.” Doc didn’t know what he meant, but didn’t pursue it. He sat down at the dining table, where Zack was waiting with this organic chemistry assignment. Boris disappeared into the kitchen and closed the door, which didn’t stop the aromas from escaping. After an hour, we couldn’t wait. I called, “Boris, when will dinner be ready?”
“Ready soon, clear table.” Out of the kitchen he came, carrying a hefty roast, surrounded by potatoes and carrots. Second trip, he had sour cream, chives and bacon in one hand and cooked greens with a sweet garlicky aroma in the other. He distributed plates, silverware, napkins and glasses of iced tea. He proudly carved the meat and served each of us a hefty piece. Doc said, “Boris, will you come home with me and take care of me? These guys are getting spoiled.” Boris smiled, got up and walked to his Risley chair, stripped off his shorts and lay back with his legs up.
We were shocked. Zack said, “Doc, you get the honors.”
“Not very romantic, but if you guys don’t mind, I’ll give it a try. But you guys got to be naked, too, or I’ll be self-conscious.”
“You, self-conscious? I can’t believe it.”
“Yeah, I may act cocksure, but I’ve never had sex in public.
“This isn’t public. We’re family,” Zack sappily mouthed the tag line from Birdcage.
Doc wasn’t erect when he pulled his pants down, but it didn’t take long, as he looked longingly at Boris’ hairy asshole. I slipped into our bedroom, got the lube and set it on the table, so he could reach it easily. Zack and I sat naked on the sofa watching. Doc bent down and took Boris’ dick in his mouth. Boris let out, “Whoa, go for it.” Doc reached up and was playing with Boris’ nipples, as his monster manhood brushed again Boris’ hairy butt crack. Zack reached over and took my dick, first in his hand, then put his mouth down on me. He looked up, “Fuck, if I do this, I can’t see what they’re doing.”
“OK, we’ll do our part later.” We grabbed each other’s dick and pumped.
We watched Doc and Boris go at it. Doc loosened Boris up with skilled fingers. He looked in our direction, “I have done this plenty of times with horses and cows, but his asshole is really tight.” We laughed, as he turned back. I was mesmerized by Doc’s glorious bubble butt, as he slowly moved to insert his dick into Boris’ anxious bottom. Boris was quiet and didn’t make any noise, as Doc settled into his rhythm. Again looking our way, “I have to get a chair like this for my recreation room.” His motions were getting more intense. He didn’t divert his attention from his victim. Boris was fully ready and stroked himself, timing his climax with that of the good doctor’s. Boris’ eyes squeezed shut, as his body tensed. He shot all over his chest, as Doc yelled, “Man overboard. I’m cumming.” They seemed unaware that we were there. Neither Zack nor I came, but I knew we would the minute we got in bed. After a brief reprieve, we pulled on underpants and had double chocolate cake for dessert. Doc stayed overnight, but left early the next morning.
Saturday morning Boris loaded the Risley chair in the trunk of my Plymouth, with the ball and block in the back seat. As I drove over, Boris spoke, “I like the Doctor. He like me, too.”
“Zack and I enjoyed watching you guys have fun last night. Hope you didn’t mind.”
“No, fine, I a show off, too.”
“I noticed some applications for jobs on the dining table. Are you looking for a job?”
“Yes, have no money. Need your help filling out papers. Don’t know how to read all the words.”
“What kind of job are you looking for?”
“Cooking.” His comment seemed totally understandable in light of our experience.
“Mike, my student, told me about job cooking at his frat house. If that doesn’t work, then I’ll try someplace else.”
“But you don’t have any credentials, do you?”
“What credentials? I cook good.”
“I know you do, but cooking for forty hungry guys, is different than cooking for three or four.”
“I sign up for class at Junior College. I start next week.”
“Well, good luck. I may talk to Mike and, see if we can help.” We pulled up in from of the power plant. “Is Mike meeting you here?”
“I told him four-thirty, here.” I helped him carry the Risley chair into a far corner, where he had placed his mats. I carried the big ball inside and he carried the awkward cube.
Zack and I had the leaping class at 4:30. I noticed Boris and Mike working below us. I watched how Boris used the chair in a different way than he had last night. On his back, with his feet up in the air, he had Mike sitting on the soles of his feet. He moved Mike around in a rapid circle. Suddenly, he popped Mike around 180 degrees and did it again. I returned my attention to Zack and his classmates. Everybody practiced swinging out as far as they could before they swung back halfway and dropped into the net.
We practiced reverses, where a flyer flies out facing outward, turns midair and returns facing the platform. The group mastered that trick in a couple of lessons. We couldn’t go on to the next step until we had a catcher.
The following Tuesday after practice, I approached Mike and Boris, who were talking. I spoke. “How’s it going, Mike. OK having Boris’ toes in your butt?”
“Funny. Yeah, going good. He’s amazing with his feet. Hope he has me standing on them before long. I watched this movie clip and it’s amazing what Risley guys can do. Gymnastics are great, but Risley is fucking fantastic.”
“Can I ask you an unrelated question?”
“Sure… you mean about me approaching the brothers about Boris cooking for the fraternity?”
“Do you think they would even consider him? Cooking would screw up your practice routine.”
“Never thought of that. I did mention it to my pledge master. He said he would mention it to the Prez and Housemother. They will probably interview him, but his English isn’t very good, so I don’t know. He has to order food and stuff. My pledge master said finding somebody reliable is difficult. Maybe they’ll give him a try.”
“From personal experience, Zack and I can tell you he is a fantastic chef. Maybe he could come and make dinner for the board.”
“A good idea. I’ll take it back to my pledge master.”
The following day, after the regular gymnastics workout, Boris told me that he had been invited to fix dinner for the board of Zeta Beta fraternity soon. He told me that Mike had invited him to tour the kitchen with the housemother and see what supplies he needed. That took place, as planned. Instead of serving the board in the dining room, he served the board and housemother in the library, where the board held its meetings. With the permission of the pledge master, Mike was drafted to be the server. Boris’ meal of meat loaf, mashed potatoes, peas and followed by chocolate brownies was welcomed by the board.
The board hired him on the spot, but he had one condition, which Mike shared with the board. Mike said, “Some of you may know that Boris is one of the volunteer coaches for the gymnastics team. He told me he really wants to continue doing that. Since I’m on the team, selfishly, I want him to continue.”
The fraternity president said, “Does that mean he won’t take the job?”
With Boris by his side, Mike said, “No. All it means is he’ll come in at 6am to get breakfast ready and then start preparations for dinner. He’ll have dinner ready by 4pm, six days a week, but not Sunday. He will put the food in the warming ovens or refrigerators, to be served by our regular stewards two hours later.”
“If he can cook that good, that’s fine with us. Did he tell you how much he wants to be paid?”
The housemother, Mrs. Mills, spoke up, “Boris understands what the pay is. He isn’t experienced ordering the food, so I will help him do that. He said he will start cooking the Monday after Christmas break.” The board unanimously approved the deal. I was reading history when Boris, with a full smile across his face, entered with Mike behind him. “They hire me. Now I can pay you.”
“We never asked you to pay. You cook, clean up after us and do laundry. That is plenty of pay.”
“No, I must pay.” Mike stood quietly looking at our cluttered living room. I saw his eyes stop momentarily on a Physique magazine on the coffee table.
I was wondering what this fireplug of a curly haired Italian was thinking. He finally spoke, “Randy, they agreed Boris could keep coaching the team, if he got dinner ready before practice. “That’s great news. So you guys are going to find time to practice Risley?”
“Yes, but it will be tight. It is amazing what he can do with his feet.”
“He couldn’t do what he does, if you didn’t keep your body so stiff.”
“My gut is getting like a board.” Mike pulled up his shirt just as Zack came in with a towel wrapped around his waist.
“Hey, Mike what’s up.”
“Boris is my fraternity’s new chef.”
“Fantastic, but he better not stop cooking for us.” Everyone laughed. Mike followed Boris into his room for a few minutes before saying “Goodbye.”