Date: Sat, 20 Aug 2005 07:26:32 -0400
From: Bradford Dean Bigelow <blockhead_54321@hotmail.com>
Subject: Writer's Block 01

The following story is a work of fiction set in the format of reality. Any
resemblance to real people is entirely coincidental in nature, and is not
meant to accurately reflect persons in towns, cities, or governmental areas,
in which the story is staged. If sexual scenes 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 states and
countries, you are not allowed to read this by law. This is fiction. Don't
forget, in real life, to think about 'sexual safety matters'; got condom?

"Writer's Block" 01
written By Bradford Dean Bigelow

%

I stole this format from my good buddy, T. Chase McPhee. I'm using the 'T.'
here, but none of us guys ever use it. Matter of factly, we called him
'Chase-baby'. I'm not sure if the hyphen does his name justice, because
we've never spelled it out; only called it out. That is, under as a more
affectionate circumstances. Otherwise, it's just 'Chase'.  Whenever any of
us guys get pissed at Chase-baby, it boils down to referring to him as
ordinary, 'McPhee'.

Let me explain why I'm saying 'us guys' or 'we'. Y'see, we all happened to
have the luck of moving into this eight apartment condominium and as luck
would have it, we all have a connection to the gay side of life.

Starting with me, yeah, I'm gay, but single. To protect my identity, since
I'm not fully out at work, but getting there, I'm in the executive ranks of
a well-known national company. I make big bucks, in the six digits, by
making sure other people in the company, do their job. When I first started
with the business, fresh out of college, I had to use the ax. Coming into
any position, prior to having a lazy bum run the department, anybody can see
the aspects of turning the beat around. I have to laugh, as I heard one of
my employees comment, after being there but a week, 'Hey, it's either 'his
way' or 'no way' and if it isn't 'his way', we might as well hit the
bricks!' Were they ever correct. However, after almost five years, this
October, matter of factly, I think I've weeded out most of the problems.

As far as the workload goes, I don't have it too rough. My day begins with
rolling out of bed at 4:45 a.m., setting the Braun to on, which I prepare
the night before. Clever, huh? Then I hit the shower, soap up with Dial, rub
some Fructis in my nice head of hair, wash off, then towel dab my skin. My
dermatologist says that dabbing is better for the skin, then rough drying.
IMOO, it's more friendly to the cock and balls, too! So, then depending on
the season, I might slip into my lush, terry robe or let my cock and balls
hang free in the breeze, while I attempt to sculpt the dark brown goatee out
of the bristles of my face. Oh, but before that, I have to head out to the
kitchen to get that 'shot in the arm'. Since I'm on the second floor, above
that illustrious, smart, goodlooking, charming character, Chase-baby McPhee,
who can sometimes be one helluv'an SOB, I can either wear the robe or flaunt
the worked out body. I forgot to mention that I tilt my blinds open, so that
I can tell the time, by when the sun comes up. Being on the west side of the
building, I get a few minutes more, before the glare hits. Anyway, so after
getting my double mug of java, I head back to the jon... McPhee, the dweeb
says I should use jon, because it's not really called the bathroom.

His argument is that a bath is bad for the body and it doesn't sound right
to call it a 'showerroom'. Would you believe he kept me at bay on evening,
for a whole hour, trying to convince me? I came back at him with, 'why call
it the jon? Jon's a guy's name!' Well, when it comes to arguing terms with
Chase, frankly, it would be easier trying to milk a cock, after cumming ten
times.

So, I head back to the jon, open the plastic tube of Mitchum shaving gel,
swish the horsehair brush around in the cap, apply the lather, in the shape
of Santa's beard and begin carving out the daily pattern. It didn't always
take me this long to shave. Five years ago, when I moved in here, I used to
have that 'cleancut' look; shortie sideburns and the whiskers in between all
chopped off my face.

One afternoon, stopping in with the quart of milk that 'McPhee' interrupted
my very important meeting with, calling me on my cell phone, which caused me
to lose my train of thought, he made up for by inviting me to dinner that
evening, at his place. After he told me that the new couple, that moved in
across the hall, was invited too, I reported to Chase that I had to get
ready. My defeat wasn't mentioning that I had to get cleaned up, it was the
second shave of the day. I say defeat, but it's not really the way my
feelings turned out. Like usually, we argued the point, but it turned out to
my advantage and I have to confess that I really like wearing the goatee.
Plus, I get more looks from the guys at work. I don't notice how the women
look at me. Get it?

Anyway, when Chase decides to make a point, he goes to it in a big way.

"What do you mean you don't think you would like it, Brad? You haven't even
tried it!" He argued.

"Look, Chase, I worked all day in an un-airconditioned office and.."

"How come?"

"How come what?"

"Why wasn't the a/c on?"

"Because it broke down and believe you me, was I pissed!"

"I can imagine, Brad. But I still don't understand."

"Don't understand what Chase?"

"You're good at hollaring and pushing your weight around. How come you
didn't get it fixed, like pronto?"

"Um, ever hear of something called 'red tape'?"

"Yeah. Sure. I use it every Christmas to wrap up presents!"

"Funny McPhee. Real funny. I'm sure you'd laugh real hard, if 'you' had to
work all day in an office where you're sweating bullets, the water's running
offa your face like Niagra Falls and your shirt is sticking to your body
like plaster of Paris."

"Hmmm, I'd think of it as highly erotice, Brad. Um, did you notice any hard
nips?"

"Matter of factly, I did notice some and Bobby Freeman. Oh man, it's so cool
that he doesn't wear an undershirt under that white shirt of his."

"Yeah? Why, Brad?"

"Y'see. I called a meeting. I actually thought because the a/c was out, that
I'd forego a meeting, because..."

"Brad, just get to the hot part. You've already got me in the middle of
building an erection here?"

"Oh yeah. So, I told the guys that they could remove their jackets, if they
felt more comfortable."

"Hot, Brad. How about loosen their ties?"

"I didn't go that far Chase-baby. Hmm... I'll have to remember that for next
time."

"So, what of Bobby Freeman?"

"Oh yeah. First you've got to know what Bobby Freeman looks like."

So, as we climb the stairs to my apartment, I told him the stats of this
twenty-four year old stud; 5'10, 195 pounds of solid muscle, his shirt
hanging on his frame, coming to a 'V' waist, then the shirt that clings to
his body like flypaper.

"So, did he have hair on his chest, Brad?"

"Not only chest, Chase-baby, but everywhere."

"Cool!"

"Yeah," I replied keying the two locks on my condo door, "Bobby looked like
he arrived from the gym, after a two hour workout."

"What about his pants?"

"I dunno. He sat at the table, so I couldn't tell."

"Is he gay?"

As we I closed the door, I looked at Chase's pants. Yeah, he had his hand in
his pocket.

"What're you hiding it for, Chase-baby? I know you're gay. You know I'm gay.
What's the secret?"

Chase doesn't have a high end position at a company like me. He sits at
home, in front of a monitor all day, so dresses like it. Taking his hand out
of his pocket, he proceeds to lower his black gym shorts, step out of them
and then, knowingly he's being sexy, sticks his thumbs under the elastic of
his lowrise 2xist's, lowers them and steps out of them faster than I can eye
up his stiff rock and hanging globes. In three seconds flat, his tee shirt
sits on the pile of clothing and McPhee's standing there in only his ankle
socks and Asics. Now, like any man, I have my opinions and that little black
book in my head, which guages men on a scale of 1 to 10. Chase is somewhere
in the range of a 10 and 10.5! Both of us have seen the other guys in our
building, at least barechested, some less bare and IMOO, none of them can
'touch' Chase's looks.

After letting out that evil laugh, he says to me, "Go on, Brad. I know you
want to."

"Y'know McPhee, sometimes you can be downright evil?"

"I know, but right now I'm feeling kind of horny, Brad."

And what does the slut do? He takes my hand places it right around his hard
8.5c shaft. How do I know the exact measurements? Would you believe that the
first time we lay together, he had me get a ruler and measure? It's as if he
thought I didn't believe him or something!

Okay, so my hand started feeling up his meat and here I am, getting hard
myself and he suddenly says, "C'mon, if you want that shave, we'd better
hurry. I've got to cook up the dinner soon."

So, he rips my hand away from his hard cock and like a little boy, leads me
off to the jon.

"Um, I'd suggest you get out of those clothes, Brad."

"Good idea Chase."

There he stood, between me and the door to the bedroom, not budging.

"Um, can I get by, please?"

"Why? I stripped for you, can't you do the same. I mean we're both men,
Brad."

I wasn't about to go pussyfooting around here. I was hot and sticky, my
undershirt sticking to me, as well as the dress shirt. Even my nice Perry
Ellis tie had sweat stains on it, most likely ruined. In a way, as I peeled
my clothes off, it's McPhee who made me feel humiliated, watching me
intently, his hand on his cock, as I removed each article of clothing.

"What's the matter, Brad? You look like you're on edge or something?"

You have to understand something about Chase. He doesn't make it appear to
be like he's trying to humiliate a person, but it happens, just as sure as
snow, when the rain clouds get too cold.

"I'm not on edge, McPhee, okay?"

"Geesh, Brad, you don't have to go ballistic on me. All I did was offer to
come upstairs and help you make your face look better."

"I'm... not... going... ballistic... on... you... McPhee... I'm hot and wet
and sticky and..."

"Hey, why don't you jump in the shower and cool off, Brad?"

Standing there, totally in the buff, I tapped my fingers, in sequence, on
the granite vanity, in silence. Okay, so I figured Chase had a good idea.
Would soften up my stubble, too. So, I slid the shower door to my left, bent
over and fidgeted with the hot and cold.

"Oh shit!" I cried out.

I'm cursing McPhee out, at this point, as I hear that devilous laughter.

"Chase-baby, are you trying to seduce me?"

"Why do you say that, Bradford?"

All it took was turning my head, over my shoulder and giving him the look,
to tell him how I felt. I didn't need to tell him what we both already knew,
his 8.5c just slid down my hairy asscrack!

"I thought you had to get dinner ready, Chase-baby?"

"I do, but I figured maybe you'd like to start with some 'h'orderves',
Brad?"

"I thought we came up to my place, for you to show me how good it would look
for me to grow a goatee?"

"Let's go then, Brad. Hey, I only suggested the shower. It wasn't me who
bent over and stuck their ass out, pressing it back onto my cock!"

There's times when I've wanted to strangle the living daylights out of that
man. He can turn a situation around, faster then a speeding bullet.

"Alright, forget the shower," I called out, turning off the shower jets.

"Ewe! You're going to shave your face Brad, all sticky and slimy with your
sweat?"

The urge to kill became greater, however, I kept my cool. Watching my back,
I bent to turn the hot and cold back on.

"You keep that thing away from me, Chase-baby."

"Why Brad? It's not like it hasn't 'been there, done that'!"

I couldn't help but smirk, but made sure Chase hadn't seen it. Yeah, he's
right for once. The more than few times, over the past five years, that he's
fucked me, it's been a really hot ride. Plus, I've licked or sucked every
inch of his body, one time or another, from head to toe, front and back. I
don't know what it is that keeps me from selling this place and moving in
with him, or the other way around. My rationale is that Chase is holding out
for a man his age, 29yo, putting aside the fact that he doesn't want to
shack up with a young, 25yo.

"Ready?"

"Hey, I'm not the one that's all sweaty, Brad," Chase protested, but I
didn't wind up going in the shower alone.

Dinner was on the table at the exact time Chase said it would be. The only
explanation I could give is that he had everything planned and ready, ahead
of time. There was no way in hell that Chase could pull offa dinner party
like that and still spend an hour in the shower with me, then take a half
hour and shave my face.

"Nice dinner party, Chase-baby."

"Thanks, Brad. I thought so."

"I also thought that Jordan and Kevin kind of hot. What about you,
Chase-baby?"

"They're a cute couple, Brad."

"Probably not as cute as us, huh Chase-baby?"

I don't know why I came out and said that. Must've been the wine.

"Us? A couple, Brad? I think you've had enough to drink."

Yep, it was the wine. Even though we both agreed, I wish Chase hadn't
removed the glass from my hand, taking his and mine to the kitchen.

"Chase-baby, how long have we known each other?" I asked, knowing the answer
to be five years.

"Five years. Why Brad?"

Watching him rinse the dishes, placing them in the dishwasher, I continued,
"Don't you think that you and I get along kind of good, Chase-baby?"

"Brad, what are you leading up to?"

"Chase," you can tell I was getting serious here, "just what is it that
you're waiting for?"

"Um, for you to hand me those plates over there, Brad?"

"Can't you get fuckin' serious for one minute, Chase?"

"I'm serious, Brad. If I don't get those dishes in the dishwasher, the food
is going to harden on them."

Okay, so, being the blockhead I am, I played along with his weak excuse and
handed him the soiled dishes. However, I decided to play his game, for a
change. As I handed him the last plate, Chase almost pulled a muscle, as I
held tightly onto it.

"C'mon. Let go, Brad."

"Make me, Chase-baby."

I figured that cute, daring smile on my face would make him turn into the
fun-loving character he often slipped into.

"You want to play, do you Brad?"

Sure, I gave in, as he grabbed my crotch, more than a little tightly.

"Owwwch! Ooooh! Ooooh! Let go, Chase!"

"First you let go of the plate, Brad!"

"Here, take the fuckin' thing, McPhee!" I shouted out, as  his thumb slid
between my balls, his fingers closed in on one of my orbs.

"I didn't really hurt you, did I Brad?"

How could I be mad at that sweet face? Swallowing the teeny bit of pain, I
replied, "No, not really."

Chase must've felt some type of remorse, as he said, "Still, I think I
should make it up to you, Brad."

'Hot!' I thought to myself. I could use a nice long, hot fuck.

"Here, you take the rest of the cheesecake home with you, Brad."

I thought about strangling him for the 949th time this year!

However, all was forgiven after he started to loosen the necktie, playing
with the buttons on my shirt, as his lips touched mine.

"I know you have to get up early tomorrow, Brad, but care for some late
night fun?"

Hey, wouldn't mind giving up the coffee, shower, jog, even wouldn't care
about walking into the office with 5 0'clock shadow, for a hot time in bed
tonight.

"Why don't you get out of those nice clothes, while I light the candles,
Brad?"

"Um, you're not going to try dripping the wax on my chest again, are you
Chase?"

"I might!"

I know that he called my bluff and like a blockhead, I let him. What a
surprise, when last week, he tipped the white taper and let the hot wax drip
over my nip. Oh man, if he didn't have me good and hard and in such a
romantic mood, I most likely would have punched his lights out. I really
couldn't believe that I not only let Chase-baby drip the wax all over my
hairy chest, but let him cover each of my nips with the hot liquid. Of
course I forgave him ten times over, after he peeled the wax off and then
proceeded to kiss each of my nips so tenderly. In the past five years, I
don't believe half the stuff I let him do to me, nor what he's asked me to
do for him, that I've done. The first time he asked... no, told me to stick
my tongue deep into his ass crevice and tongue-fuck his ass, I almost
barfed. But then again, being the blockhead I am, followed through and did
it. Funny thing is, that after that first time rimming his ass, I rather
enjoyed it. Now I think nothing of the tip of my tongue running around his
hairy hole or diving in, to lick Chase's inner sanctum. I suppose after
doing that and then letting him coat my nips with the hot wax last week,
that I'd let him do anything to my body or do anything with him, sexually.

"What's that for?" I asked, as I walked into his bedroom, after stripping my
suit, dress shirt, tie, undershirt, briefs, socks and shoes, folding them
nicely and placing them in a pile, on the chair.

That's one thing I to be thankful to Chase for... neatness. Before I even
met Chase, I would consider myself a pig when it came to housekeeping. I
remember the first time we had sex together. My suit wound up in a wrinkled
heap, on the floor. That very first time, before he even let me suck him, he
had me get up off the bed, pick up my clothes, hang my suit up nicely in the
closet and fold everything else neatly, placing them on the dresser. I know
I grumbled, saying that, 'this is my place and I'll do as I damn well
pleased', but when he threatened to take away my sucking toy, I figured I'd
better tote the line. I mean, I would never, in a million years let one of
my employees at work talk down to me, in that way. No, they'd get the ax and
a boot in the ass, but that night, I was letting a guy I had just met that
evening, rule me like a king and his subject!

"Um, I thought we could have some bondage fun, Brad. Okay?"

"Like you're going to tie me up, Chase?"

"Yeah. You'll love it."

"Then I suppose you're going to drip hot wax on me again?"

"I didn't hear you complaining about it last week, Brad. If I didn't know
any better, I'd swear you loved it!"

Of course Chase was a hundred and ten percent right. Evening though my nips
were burning the next day, rubbing on my tee shirt, I found the experience
highly erotic. In fact, I had to play a low profile, at the office, as the
rubbing triggered my cock into action. Then, if that wasn't enough, visions
of our previous night, the hot wax dripping on my nips, running in between
every chest hair, coagulating over my pink nubs and the sexual response of
my throbbing, hard and leaking cock, came back to me. Oh man, by the time
the end of the day came, I had to rush home and jerk off, all the time
thinking of Chase and the erotic things he did to me.

"So, are you game Brad?"

"Okay. I'll try it."

Deja vu! A flashback occured. That's what I said last week, when he proposed
the hot wax treatment!

As I lay there, he tied one length of rope around my right wrist and then
the attached the end around the right post of the headboard. Getting up and
walking around the bed, our connecting eyes, locked in place, he took my
left wrist and pulled on it, stretching me from arm to arm, tautly. Then he
repeated the neat rope trick, binding my left wrist to the headboard.
Strange thing, I didn't feel nervous or frightened, as Chase began to take
my freedom away from me. With the opposite in mind, my cock stood tall,
leaking with precum and my mind stated, as if it ran itself, wanting Chase
to use me, even to the point of abuse, if he chose to. 'Oh man', I thought,
'have I got it bad for you!'

"Now for the feet!"

He had to announce everything, as if Chase had to check to see if it was
alright to do whatever he wanted with me. In a way is was good that he did.
It proved to myself that I trusted this 29yo. Trust, like in anything,
whether it was tying me up in bondage, doing stuff to my body, like dripping
hot was on it, or loving me, or even taking my wealth and running away with
it. Then I thought to myself, 'get real, Bradford, Chase is not the type'.
My mind also tied in the reality of what I was reluctant to even admit to
myself, that I loved Chase. At this moment in time, my body belonged to him,
to do whatever he wanted. Letting myself get tied up, proved the vast amount
of trust I had for Chase. I also told myself that I would have to be more
conscientious in trying to develop a stronger relationship with him. I
didn't care that there was a four year gap in our age difference. I wanted
him to be mine.

"Feel tight, Brad?"

"Yeah, but..."

"What, Brad? Don't like it?"

I think the look on my face, summed it up. Plus, as Chase looked at my
crotch, then pointed out the leaking precum, actually taking it in between
his fingers and then making me eat my own goo, proved a lot in itself.

"Now what?" I asked.

I figured Chase would pick up the candle right then and there, but this
blockhead was on the wrong wavelength. Entirely on the wrong track, I
smiled, as Chase got on the bed, crawled up to my chest, straddled it and
then played with his 8.5c, rubbing it on along my lips, teasing me.

"Bet you can't wait to taste this, huh Brad?"

"Ummmmmmmmmmm," I replied.

Chase was absolutely correct. I wanted his hot stick in my mouth. As if
reading me right, he commanded me to open my mouth. Oh man, I can't tell ya
how sweet it was to swirl my tongue around the cock head, sticking my tongue
into the piss slit and them swirling it around the soft bulb. Weird, that,
like a few hundred other times, I wanted to reach out, take his inflated
cock in my hands and use my limbs to hold that savory meal in place, to lick
alongside it. However, I found myself strangling my wrists, trying to break
free.

With my nose already buried in his pubic bush, he asked, "Want more, Brad?"

I didn't answer, which didn't matter anyways, as Chase lurched forwards,
pressing his ass straight up and into my face, his cock stabbing me in the
throat, wanting to down it. Not the first time I've throated Chase's 8.5c, I
relaxed and let it take the plunge, sliding easily down. Doing it with
expertise, actually brought back memories of the first few times, as Chase
taught me how to take it, before I could let my throat get fucked, without
choking out or wanting to barf!

"Ooooooooooh yeah... hot!" Chase called out, as he backed off and then
rammed his hot, moist cock down my throat.

His weight on my chest, kept me from bucking my hips. But, also the bondage
in itself helped in the efforts of wanting to do that fucking action, as my
cock and balls went into overdrive. Good thing that Chase had me tied down.
I started to get edgy as he kept badgering me. I sort of started to get
pissed at him for saying stuff.

He said stuff like, "You're really hard, Brad. I think I'll give Jordan and
Kevin a call and have them come up here and sit on your cock. I saw how you
had your eye on Jordan. Bet you'd love to fill his ass with your manseed,
huh?"

Of course I couldn't voice my opinion back, with Chase slowly fucking my
throat, but if my throat wasn't plugged with his shaft, I would have told
him a thing or three!

I knew he knew I whined, as he reached behind himself and gave my 9c a few
stokes. Strangest thing is when he did finally pull his cock out of me, I
never mentioned anything about what he said about having Jordan sit on my
cock and getting a hard fuck. I think it must have had something to do with
the distraction. One, I couldn't believe it, as he pulled out his 8.5c, that
I could get the whole thing down my throat and two, how much I missed having
his cock lodged there, after he evacuated it.

"Bet you want this up your ass now, don't you Brad?"

"Yeah."

"Didn't sound too convincing to me, Brad."

"Yeah, I want it up my ass, Chase-baby."

What a sweet talker! Before too long, he actually had me begging for him to
stick his cock up my ass! If that wasn't enough, he wanted me to call him,
'sir', instead of the sweet way I addressed him. But, of course. My butt
started ruling my mind. As I felt my ass crevice against the mattress, I
wanted the cock that swelled down my throat, now shoved up my ass. What a
sign of relief, when I felt my ankles being untied.

I know I lusted to be fucked, when Chase lifted my legs up and placed them
on his shoulders, as I called out, "Oh yeah... fuck me... oh yeah, fill my
ass!"

"Beg me, boy!"

'Boy'? Where did that come from. By this time, I could care less as my
assrim itched to be forced open. I actually had thoughts of being degraded
to a cheap slut, as I begged Chase to shove his cock up my ass.

"Please Sir... I beg of you to fuck me and fuck me hard!"

Later I would think of what a blockhead I was, but now all I wanted is to
feel Chase's shaft pounding my hole and his balls slapping up against me.
Yeah, what a cheap slut I was. The tip of his cock touched my hairy hole and
it felt like somebody handing me a trillion dollars, as I threw my head
back. 'Stupid blockhead!' I thought. Here, Chase's cock wasn't even inside
me and I acted as though he had planted the whole root deep inside. However,
soon I dismissed the self-criticism, as I felt Chase slide inside me, right
over my prostrate, then his balls touch my ass. I also sensed something
else, almost jumping out of bed, which I would have, it I hadn't been bound
to it.

"Shit!" I remember calling out, shortly before screaming out loud, as hot
wax dripped on my chest.

"Surprised you, didn't I?"

Yeah, that was some surprise alright! I then watched as Chase tipped the
candle, the hot wax dripping down over my right nip, then left. I couldn't
actually see the wax, as it ran in between the follicles of my chest hair.
Soon, my brain got caught between the feelings of my ass being soothed and
my nips burning and in the conflicting thoughts couldn't process it as being
an unhappy feeling. Seems that my ass was way ahead of my nips and so I
equated both feelings as something of high, erotic pleasure.

"Ooooh yeah!" I cried out, surprising myself, crying, "Oh fuckin' yeah!"

I actually sensed myself trying to lift my pecs up, to greet the burning
wax, as it dripped greedily all over my chest. Unlike the last time, though,
the territory had expanded. I soon discovered the pleasure of having the hot
wax dripped on my stomach, into my navel, filling it, then returning the
candle to my chest, the streams of hot wax flow down my hairy pits, then the
sides of my body. I couldn't arc my body, because of the pressure of Chase's
hot fuck, weighing my torso down. Strangely, I couldn't sense what I should
be feeling; hate. All I could breathe in, is the erotic atmosphere.

For awhile I didn't feel anymore burning pain on my body. Even my nips felt
the hardening wax, as it cooled. The only place that seemed to hold the
heat, was my deep bellyhole, though in appearance, the outer area looked
cooled. I felt my legs part, as Chase bent over to kiss me. Then his action
sped up, the erotic pounding of the hard fuck, bringing himself out and then
slamming back in. As the intensity heightened, he wrapped his hand around my
9c and began pumping. Pulling out suddenly, we both cried out, as my stomach
and chest 'got it', covered in hot, white cum.

Like I thought, the next morning I missed the shower, jog and shave, but not
the coffee. Waking, my arms held Chase, until he let me sleep, as he made
some java.

"Good morning, Bradford," Chase's voice called out, nudging me in the ribs
with his elbow.

Opening my eyes, I looked to one of the posts of the headboard, noticing I
had been freed of my bondage.

"Kind of slow this morning, Brad?"

"When... when did you untie me?"

"Last night... or rather earlier this morning?" Chase said, as he took a
swig of the coffee he brought me.

I smiled, then noticed the hard wax stuck on his chest and stomach.

"You... you're all dirty."

Looking down upon himself, Chase replied,"Did you like it, Brad?"

"I loved all of it, Chase."

"Here. Sit up."

Fixing the pillow behind my back, I sat up against the headboard. Taking the
cup of coffee, I started drinking it, as Chase reported back to the kitchen.
I could smell the breakfast cooking. Placing my hand on my stomach, rubbing
it up to my chest, I felt the hardened wax. Lots of places I touched felt
burnt. I set my coffee down on the night table. Fingering both my nips, I
mashed them, sighing, as I felt my cock twitch.

"I knew you would like it, Bradford!"

All I could do is smile at Chase, as he brought forth the tray of breakfast
foods.

Continued.....

       Copyright 2005 Bradford D. Bigelow All Rights Reserved.

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       this story  to any PAY site, nor any site
       other than www.nifty.org, without the
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