The following is based on true events with elements of erotica added. It is intended for adult audiences. Similarities to real individuals is coincidental. Names and likenesses have been changed. Please read at your own risk.
Read Episode 1 First: https://laycocklodge.blogspot.com/2024/09/arrival-at-rugged-laycock-lodge-episode.html
"Hello, My name is Dmitry. Would you like to hear about our specials?" I asked a young couple who had just come in for breakfast. It was now my first day and I felt that I was getting the hang of this job quite quickly.
"No thanks, we know what we would like," the young man said, looking at his wife. She looked undecided.
"I would like to hear them," she said.
"I thought we were just sharing a lodge breakfast," he said.
"I want avocado toast," she replied.
"I'm sorry, we don't have that, but our stuffed French toast is amazing."
I could not believe that they caught me masturbating.
"That sounds good," the woman said, looking expectantly at her husband. Or maybe it was boyfriend. But she had two rings on, which made me think it was husband.
"How much?" he said, perturbed. I pointed to the menu. $18.
"Ugh, we still need to buy a parks pass to get into the rainforest and the room was over $300. Everything is so expensive," he said.
She rolled her eyes, "fine, Lodge breakfast it is."
"How would you like your eggs?" I asked.
I imagined Gorth watching me through the curtains as I exploded. I had made a fool of myself and I could not believe who it was who was my new shift manager at the restaurant. That's right. It was him. The same guy who had watched me sputter and spunk all over my bedspread. Talk about embarrassed! I could barely make eye contact with him as he taught me how to greet customers, upsell French toast, and where to bring the dirty plates. He was my connection to the kitchen, but he had seen me at my most intimate moments! And surely everything was going to get around this place like wildfire! I knew how things worked at these tight-knit workplaces.
"Poached," the man said.
"Oh, the cooks don't poach eggs I've been told."
"Why not?" the man snapped.
Because it's a pain in the ass for them, I wanted to say. That's what they told me.
"I'm sorry, I wish they did, but we can scramble or fry them. Could I interest you in an over easy egg?"
Gorth was behind the counter staring at me. Surely he was sizing me up. I had seen both of his beards and now he had seen me in my complete nakedness. He had seen my hand slither up and down my shaft like an overexcited serpent, hissing and spitting as my body recoiled from the endless pleasure.
"Fine, over hard."
Oh why did he have to say hard?
"Bacon or sausage?" I asked.
"Can I have both?" the man asked.
"I don't think so. I can go check."
"No, bacon will be fine."
"Would you like white, wheat, or English muffin for toast?" I asked.
"Do you have rye or sourdough?" the woman interjected.
Gorth saw my penis. My hard penis. My favorite and most hidden part of my body. Sure, I had been to a few nude beaches, I had showered at the gym in front of muscle-clad men, but I didn't want this. I could only be naked on my own terms.
"No, we don't, just white, wheat or English muffin."
"Wheat," the man said. "No. Wait. English muffin," he added.
"English muffin it is," I said, writing the order on my book. "Any coffee or water?"
"Both please."
After pouring the couple some waters and coffee, I made my way to the back of the house. There Gorth was waiting for me to show me how to make the English muffin. The toaster looked like something out of an old science fiction movie. It featured a conveyer belt that moved slower than my grandmother back when she was alive. "With these English muffins, you have to put them in for two rounds," Gorth said.
I think I blushed.
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
Yes! Something IS wrong! You saw me milking my penis last night! You saw me rolling around in a state of ecstacy that was only supposed to be reserved for me. While you have a tent of blankets around your bed, I am out in the open. If you get horny you can go to town in privacy. I didn't have that. I was naked. You showed me your beard and... ugh!
"No, I am just trying to remember everything," I said.
"You have another table," a young woman said. Her name was Ivy and she was a host. It was her job to seat customers and to bring it to the server's attention. She was probably eighteen or nineteen years old, and had a very pretty face with pouty lips. Her eyes featured long lashes.
"Oh, thank you," I said, rushing back into the dining room. I wanted to be away from Gorth as much as I could be. I could not believe that he was the guy who I would work under.
It was an older man this time, eating all alone.
"That girl is kind of cute," he said.
"Hi, my name is Dmitry..." and my supervisor saw my penis... "Would you like to hear our specials?"
"If it's that girl, butter her up and bring her to me," he said.
"I'm sorry, she's not on the menu, but we have this tantalizing stuffed French toast."
"Creamy inside?" the man asked.
He saw my cream...
"It's stuffed with a vanilla custard type cream and topped with marrionberries."
"That sounds good," he said, licking his lips. His eyes darted to where the host stand was, but she was not there. Surely she knew she had been leered at and escaped to the back.
"I'll take it," he added.
"Any coffee, tea, orange juice, or Gorth?" I said, seeing the latter looking at me.
"Gorth?"
"Water," I said. I blushed deeply.
"I'll take one large GORTH," he said, laughing.
I hung my head in shame and poured him his "Gorth" before making my way back to the front to enter the order.
"What are you doing after work?" Gorth said, as he stood behind me.
"Oh, I am... I might just study up on everything I learned today."
"Study up?" Gorth said, flashing a smile. "Nobody studies up. You'll just learn as you go. That's how we all do it here. Speaking of which, we're having a bon fire, if you want to join us."
"We?"
"Yeah, a few of us gather there most nights. There's this new guy who lives next door who you may be interested in meeting. Names Domino. We have a lot of fun."
"Maybe I'll stop by."
I pictured them all sitting around the fire, talking about me wrangling my wiener. I could see them all drunk, laughing at me. I pictured that porter guy, Hunter--and Gorth of course--raking me over the coals about how I was caught in my bed doing something that every male does.
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