Date: Wed, 15 Jun 2011 13:22:48 -0400
From: TC McPhee <survivalgame.tcmcp@gmail.com>
Subject: RiNG DaNG DoO 05

The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any
resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely
coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons,
of continents or islands, in countries, counties, cities, towns, villages,
neighborhoods, streets, cul-de-sacs, nor governmental or non-governmental
areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male
relationships offends you, then why are you here? Seriously, if guy-to-guy
sex stuff makes you barf or is going to screw up your mind, you should not
read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most
states and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check
with your local laws regarding such.


% Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use
protection.


%


RiNG DaNG DoO 05

WriTten by T. Chase McPhee


%


Ari thought it fun keeping Michael at bay with all his shenanigans, in
reality really liking the guy. For the past fifteen minutes, he's shown
Michael how good he can be with a sharp knife, chopping up cucumbers,
tomatoes and other accessories to the lettuce part of a salad.


While doing the chop-chop-chop, they converse, Michael placing some pasta on
the boil and then beginning the assemblage of fresh pasta sauce.


"Whew! Getting hot in here," and with a giddy thought in mind, "you don't
mind if I take my shirt off, do you?"


With haste, Michael sets the spoon on the stove trivet and turns the gas
off, "Hold it!"


Already, his shirt tail has been hanging out, Ari going for the first
button.


Then, realizing he was being pretentious, Michael says with blame, "You said
you liked having someone else unbutton it for you?"


"I know," then sarcastic, "depending on if I `like' the person who is doing
it!"


Face to face, Michael asks, "Well, do you `like' me or don't you `like'
me?"


Standing there with his hands at his sides, Ari replies, "If you don't hurry
up, the lettuce is going to wilt!"


The cutesy smile said it all, Michael cocking an eyebrow up and with a
crooked smile, his hands in slow motion focused up to the first button.
While doing so, he casually says, "I'm glad you wore this particular
shirt!"


"It's the one I wore in the fashion show," Ari responds, his eyes dashing
from busy hands to try to catch a glimpse of Michael's deep, sienna brown
eyes.


"I know," Ari finally catches Michael's attention. With hands attached to
the last button, he uses it as a catalyst to draw Ari closer to him.


"Uh, wait a minute there, Michael," Ari's hands pressed against Michael's
apron.


"I thought you liked me!"


Fickled to say the least, Ari wasn't sure exactly what he felt towards
Michael. Sure, he was cute, debonair, upper crust, smart, somewhat witty,
some of the superlatives Ari hoped to find in a man, "Aren't we rushing
it?"


"No. I mean, I didn't think we were." Then, a short thought, Michael says,
"Why is it I feel like I'm playing a cat and mouse game here?"


"I think the salad's wilted!"


"Forget the salad," he forces the issue, tearing open the last button of the
shirt and dividing it till it shows off Ari's tight abs, "and I'll pay for
the shirt!"


He should have been pissed, but instead Ari stood there and allowed the
twenty-five year old continue to undress him, shooting his mouth off, "What
tha..."


"Go ahead. Stop me!" Michael shouted, letting a short cackle of laughter
escape from his lips, because by now he knew Ari wanted it as much as
himself.


Pitted against the corner of the butcherblock table, center of the rather
large kitchen, Ari was a little turned on when the pointy corner of the
table caught in the fold of his pants, right in the division of his ass
crevice. For whatever reason, unknown to him because he's always thought of
himself as a topman, his loins pulsed with teeming excitement.


"I was thinking chicken parmigiana, but maybe we should go with sausage?"


There was no stopping Michael now, Ari looking down his naturally tanned
bod, eyes pinned to Michael wrestling with his belt buckle.


Running through Michael's mind, he's always been the one standing, while the
other guy was on his knees, but sometimes a man has got to bend the rules to
get what he wants, so as he digs in the back of Ari's pants, peels the
briefs along with the jeans.


"Ain't gonna do it," Ari laughs, as he clues Michael into his hard shaft and
tight briefs, a pokey spot keeping him from peeling down, like a banana.


Not a problem for Michael, running his hand along Ari's side, the back of
his hand against cock and balls, as it opens the front of the briefs to
bring it out from the erection, over it and then freeing up the monster
shaft and balls. "Oh my!"


"Ya think?" Ari replies, concerning `size'. "I mean... you've got a pretty
big mouth, Michael?"


He couldn't believe himself, Michael usually lusting after a hot ass, but
licking his lips as he viewed Ari's thick stick, it became a new instance
for him!


"I like it nice and slow."


Michael didn't readily get it, "Nice and slow?"


He's coined the phrase for himself, one in which he overheard one of Gino's
friends say at one of their orgies, "Would be awesome having your tongue
cruising up and down? Slowly sucking each of my ballsacs?"


"Seems like you've got it almost all covered?"


"Oh," Ari replies, "am I leaving someplace out?"


"Ass?" Michael hoped Ari would give in, giving up his glory hole.


"Sure," it made Michael smile, then to have it cave in, when Ari remarks,
"as long as you can get your tongue in deep?"


"I was `thinking' of driving something else in deeper!"


"Are you asking me or telling me?" Ari replies in a more demonstrative way.


Doing what Ari hath done unto him, Michael skips over the question, same
time pressing on Ari's shoulders, bowling him over onto the waist-high
surface.


"Oh shit!" Ari calls out when his back almost topples over the salad bowl.
With split-second decisiveness he reaches behind him and whips the bowl out
of the way. "That was a close one!"


A closer call would be watching Michael do a striptease so fast, Ari
couldn't tell what article of clothing came off first. Looking down below
Michael's waist, Ari says, "Um, like, `don't think' you're going to be
putting that anywhere!"


Not saying a word, Michael hops up on the kitchen island, pressing Ari's
back against the wood surface. At first he zeroed in on his lips, kissing
wildly. However such veracity of feelings set his hand to wandering and in
no time Michael had them both moaning and groaning, one hand on two cocks.


Still, not giving in, Ari says, "Would be so nice to feel it `wet'?"


"You drive a hard bargain," Michael replies. He had quickly made his ascent
to table level, but now took his time, orally working Ari's smooth chest,
exploring and finding wisps of hair around his nips, Michael toying with
each, running his tongue around'n'round, then lip-cupping a nub. Moving on,
he ran his tongue down the dry pavement of Ari's abs, falling into his
stomach pothole. Thinking nothing much of it, with the strong hint of Ari's
hand on his head, pushing, Michael found his way to rough, pubic hair, a
signal he was at the end of his journey. Without looking, he felt Ari's
shaft hit him in the chin. Michael smiled, thinking, `what a way to find my
way to a man's shaft!' Intent on teasing, he allowed his beard to scrape
along the top of the hard shaft, till the head touched balls.


"Whenever you're done fooling around?" Ari badgered with impetuous
attitude.


He was and what drove Michael on seemed humorous to him. His thighs had
finally run out of table room and he now stood on the floor. What he had
done thus far, he knew he was turning Ari on. Too, the fact Ari lay there
and entertained himself, his own fingers toying-up his own nips, ones
Michael just finished tantalizing with his tongue, enjoying hands
pulverizing them. Seeing and hearing Ari pleasure himself, made Michael all
the more horny and now had no inhibitions whatsoever of leaning over,
opening his mouth and taking Ari in.


"Oh-h-h-h-h-h fuck yeah, that's what I want!"


As if `punishment', Michael thought, he found one of Ari's hand had left the
nip-mashing, only to pounce him on the back of the head.


"Yeah... take me!"


`I'm takin' ya... I'm takin' ya... what more do you want!' Michael thought,
the force of Ari's hand on his head, pressuring him to take more cock in,
especially when he was ready to choke already!


It was the first time for Michael, not the blowjob or taking each ballsac in
his mouth, one at a time and working each with his tongue, but succumbed to
Ari's suggestion, at least he thought that's what it was, about rimming him
and with the strong desire to `please', he grabs Ari by the thighs, both
arms pulling, till the Israeli's balls are on the edge of the table, then
doubles Ari in half just about, to get leverage.


Sure, there was a time in Michael's life, in teen years, when he saw a porno
flick of a guy tasting another guy's ass, thought it a totally disgusting,
vulgar thing, but now his thoughts were totally clouded by sight and sound.
Before was Ari Carp, nineteen years old, natural, slight tan, smooth, except
for the tongue-tasted wisps of brown hair around his nips and the thin trail
which led him from the `pothole`, over the curb to hard shaft and with the
addition Ari's gentle cooing sounds, it made Michael forget a lot. Also, as
his tongue touched ass, the senses detected Ari also had some other bod
hair!


He knew he was doing good, Ari's voice giving him indication his tongue was
moving in the right...


"Deeper!"


Michael `almost` thought he was doing right, but then had to twist himself
in a way he could dig deeper, meet demands!


"Oh yeah... yeah... get your tongue in there Michael... fuck me... fuck me!"


It did occur to Michael this could very well be a prime-job, a stepping
stone to putting something else in there besides his tongue!


All hope was lost when Ari announces, "I'm getting close. I need to fuck
you."


`That's putting it blunt!' Michael had to laugh to himself, though he didn't
show it by doing so, only had the feeling.


Plus, Ari didn't leave him much time for thought, "How do you want it?"


Drawing his mind back to twenty minutes ago, the estimated time it took to
firm Ari up, give him quick blow'n`rim jobs, he thought Ari to be kind of
dominating. He could have taken it one of two ways, but...


"I guess not," Ari says, hoping down from the table, butting Michael against
the chest with his own pecs, "Sorry. I didn't mean to pressure you," he said
into Michael's left ear, while hugging, rubbing up and down the professor's
back.


"Not at all, I..." In the classroom, if the subject had to do with
psychology, Michael would have all the answers, but   figuring Ari wanted it
so, "I think we should take it slow."


Peeling their chests apart, the rest sealed, Ari replies, "Slow? The way
your tongue was going at my ass?"


Feeling controlled, but not really caring, Michael replies, "I hope I was
doing a suitable job?"


"Oh, you were good," Ari replies, but afraid of putting too much pressure on
the other issue, "I hope I wasn't too pushy about fucking you?"


"Can we give it some time?" Michael replies, with sincerity, but also wasn't
sure about having his cherry taken just yet.


"We've got all summer," Ari replies without much thinking behind his
statement.


Said just as hastily, without thought, Michael says, "Have you got a place
to stay?"


"Are you asking me to live with you? Kind of fast, Michael."


He pondered it all of ten seconds, saying, "I guess that's what I'm saying."
All along he wasn't feeling anything different, but comfort, their naked
bods caressing each other from about mid-pecs to hanging sacs.


Now the two faced each other, heated bods touching, but also the sense and
look of uncertainty lingering.



%


 Copyright 2011 T. Chase McPhee

`RiNG DaNG DoO' may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without
prior consent from the author.