Date: Mon, 2 Jan 2006 03:47:51 -0800 (PST)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: 'The Tidelight Zone'  01

The story below is a work of fiction, set in the
format of reality. Any resemblance to real people is
entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to
accurately reflect upon persons in towns, cities, or
governmental areas, in which the story is staged. If a
sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships
offends you, then you should not read this story.
Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in
most state and countries, you are not allowed to read
this story by law. Check with your local laws
regarding such. Sexual safety matters. This is
fiction. Use protection in real life. `Got condom?'

"The Tidelight Zone" 01  (M/M oral anal)
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

"Sundown, in case you boys haven't noticed?"

Three of the four surfers watched the horizontal
motion of the waves, their hands over their eyes, arms
out straight to their right sides, as if saluting the
sunset.

Elton's remark, to Officer Blair seemed a strange one,
"Mehmet sure looks smooth out there, doesn't he,
Steve?"

Policing the beach, he assumed the same position, his
hand protecting his eyes from the sunrays that helped
the day to depart from its earthly triumph, as he
watched the surf-rider.

"Sure does," The twenty-six year old officer replied,
unconsciously adding, "Very."

While the three bare-chested, Speedo-clad youths ran
to greet their Egyptian friend, Officer Blair
departed, continuing on his patrol.

"Be sure to tell Mehmet I said he looked good out
there."

"You bet, Steve," Marc replied, as the three hustled
towards the shoreline.

"Hey, Elton, why doesn't Steve just come out with it
and say he likes the guy?"

"Give it time, Anthony."

"Like me, I saw that I wanted you man, so did I hang
back?"

"Everybody's different, Anthony. Give Steve some
space. He'll come around," Elton told his nineteen
year old lover, rustling his dark brown, bushy hair.

"Yeah, okay."

"Hey Mehmet," twenty year old Marc called out, as
Anthony and Elton chatted with him about his awesome
surfboarding.

"What is it, Marc?"

"Steve said to tell you that you looked good."

"Where is he?" Mehmet inquired, looking towards the
lay of the land, then up and down the beach.

"You know. He had to go finish his rounds, but he
wanted me to make sure I told you."

"Oh."

The other three watched for a few seconds, as Mehmet
stood there, his face to the wind, as if a dog
following his master's scent, catching it, as it
floated down on the tail breeze.

"Mehmet, it's sundown. We've got to go. I promised
Steve."

"Yes, alright."

Packing their boards under their arms, the four lit
out for their room at the Fairmont Kea Lani Maui
hotel. Nineteen year old Elton Morrison III and his
family had been on holiday, when the nineteen year old
befriended Mehmet DuVailer.

Come to find out, Mrs. Morrison's sister, Jane
Trivette, had a sister-in-law named DuVailer. This was
the sister's cousin. To Mrs. Morrison, however, any
relation, near or distant was to be considered an
immediate part of the family.  She had been equally
fascinated the cousin had married an Frenchman, whom
shared an Egyptian heritage and marveled at the
handsome offspring.

Deep down in side, she always knew Elton to be
`different' and wasn't at all surprised when he
divulged to her his gay sexually. His father was not
thrilled, but soon came around, with the mother's
help.  Sally Morrison and her sister Jane had been
friends for life, living but a high fence apart. They
often shopped, lunched together and attended the same
bridge club. Mr. Trivette had passed on two year's
ago, just after Marc graduated from high school. He
never lived to see his son's first day of college.
Again, it had been Sally to the rescue, when Jane came
to her, heartbroken at hearing Marc tell her he was
gay. It's through her son's and Marc's revelations
that Sally had formed a parent's support group,
through their church, for parents of children, coming
out. It has made all the world of difference, for so
many folks.

Francine DuVailer agreed to move their lodgings, so
the Morrison's and Trivette's could get to know each
other. Sally made all the arrangement's, with the
Fairmont Kea Lani Maui, situating the DuVailer's
within walking distance of their own hotel room.
Through some very persuasive tactics, she gave in to
Elton's whim, to arrange a suite for himself, Marc,
Mehmet and Marc's friend who came along, Anthony
Bosco.

"Beautiful, El. Man, how did you convince your mom to
spring for this?"

"Told her I needed some time alone with you, Anthony.
Y'know, breed you... make her and dad some
grandchildren?"

"How about trying right now?" Anthony asks Elton.

"Not horned up enough."

"I can take care of that. No sweat, El!"

"Hey you guys... you mind?"

Marc's head nodding, gave them the hint to cool it on
the multiplication tables. Staring out the long glass
pane, to the ocean, Mehmet stood, one hand on his
torso, his thumb tucked into the elastic of his
speedo, his other hand freely rubbing his lightly
tanned, dark-haired chest.

Placing both hands on Mehmet's shoulders, Marc moved
his chest almost up to the young Egyptian's back. He
rubbed gently.

"What's irking you Mehmet?"

"Oh... nothing, Marc. I think I could have done a better
job at surfing the waves today."

"Yeah, I think so, too."

"You do?" Mehmet replied, acting surprised.

Not wanting to dive into the impending subject, Marc
deviated to another.

"C'mon, let's go get some dinner before these horny
bastards start multiplying like bunnies!"

%

Reporting back to the beach patrol station, Steve
Blair entered the locker room. Before he reached his
locker, he already had unbuttoned the front of his
light blue shirt.

"Hot one, huh Steve?"

"Oh yeah. Tell me about it, Jerry."

"All the other guys are gone. If you want, I'll wash
your back -- you wash mine?"

"Sure. Get the shower warmed up."

"Already did, Steve. Just waiting for you to do a
striptease for me!"

"Yeah right, Jerry."

"Hey, what's the matter Steve. You act like you're in
love or something!"

"Is that shower hot yet?"

"I'm getting on it... I'm getting on it..."

Steve smiled, watching the five foot, nine inch
paunchy man walk away. He could tell by the tanned ass
that Jerry did some nude bathing out back of the beach
patrol building. It wouldn't be unheard of, seeing a
fellow officer on his lunch hour, sacking out in the
secluded, high walled area, without a stitch of
clothing on.

Keying the lock, Steve peeled his shirt back, pulling
it from his pants. A hand rubbed his hairy, brown
chest, lubed up with sweat. His right palm passed over
his left nip. Closing his eyes, he sighed with
pleasure. He smiled, when he remembered, seeing from a
distance, Mehmet, looking upwind for him today, as he
hid behind the palm tree. His right limb proceeded to
follow the dark, tight trail to his beltline, where
the other hand met it, to unfasten the waist hardware.


"Hey Steve, you're bleeding the faucets dry!" Came the
loud shout from the distant shower room, that broke
his daydream.

"I'm coming. Keep your shirt on!" Steve yelled back.

Quickly undressing and stuffing his pants in the
locker, his shirt balled up and on top, Steve
hightailed it to the steamy room.

"C'mon Steve. You look as tense as hell."

"Yeah, I am a bit."

"A bit? My foot, Steve."

It wasn't the first time that Jerry offered to use his
magic fingers on Steve's shoulders. Under the heated
streams of waters, they became sublime, combing out a
day's frustration.

"Oooooh," Steve groaned, as his head tilted to the
side and back.

"Feel good, does it?"

"Oh, you know it does, Jerry."

%

Continued..........

Copyright 2006 T. Chase McPhee
This story may not be sold or made part of any
collection without prior written permission.