Date: Thu, 15 May 2008 18:41:09 -0700 (PDT)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: Adventures in Nature 19

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, in towns, cities, countries, nor governmental
areas, 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. Remember guys, this is fiction.
In real life, use protection.

%

"Adventures In Nature" 19
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

Sometime during the dark hours, Barry turned over,
awakening. His arm searched the other side of the bed,
Steve turning up 'missing.' "Steve, you in the jon?"
When no answer came back at him, Barry got up, tripped
over a shoe and then found his robe hanging over a
chair. Opening the door to their bungalow, he
descended the three steps which led to the
wood-paneled hallway.
"Oh, there you are."

"Hi dad," Philip said. Aidan, elbow on the table,
raised his palm to signal 'hello'.

"So what's the hot chocolate pow-wow for?" he asked,
the question up for grabs.

Steve, his elbow keeping his head from caving in, was
perched on the table top. Barry noticing the droopy
lids says, "Up to bed, Steve."

"Thanks," He replied, getting up with a deep yawn.

"So, all the excitement have you guys wide awake?" He
guessed.

Aidan replied for both, "How long before the sun comes
up?"

Eyeballing the clock, Barry estimates, "Ohhh I'd say
about three hours."

"Dad, is Denis like crazy?"

Barry could see that buffing up the center of the town
square with flowers wasn't the only thing on the boys'
minds.

Adding to Philip's query, Aidan says, "Last time we
saw him he looked normal."

"Eric and Tom says he a sicko," Philip concluded their
thoughts.

"Sicko, nor crazy are ways to define neither Denis nor
anybody else's problem stemming from depression,"
Barry tried defining.

"Do you think we'll get it too?" Aidan asks.

"It's not a sickness like catching cold. It's more an
inbalance. You see, these juices are running in and
out of different parts of your body. Since the brain
controls everything, if some of these juices are not
feeding the brain it can make us feel unlike our
normal selves."

"How come Denis wants to kill himself?" Philip dives
deeper into his step-brother's ailment.

Being the wee hours of the morning, plus the fact
Barry wasn't a doctor of psychology, he simply put it
to them, "I don't think Denis really wants to kill
himself. I'm not an authority on all this but when
`the juices' are not getting to a person's brain they
experience wants and desires not part of their normal
self." He waited for the two to think it over, also
noticing they looked tired, ready to return to their
rooms. "Tell you what. If you two have any other
questions about this we can arrange to have Sean and
Jacques over for dinner. I'm sure Jacques would not
mind you asking about all this. How does that sound?"

"I haven't seen my brother in a looooong time," Aidan
said of Sean.

"Well he's been very busy with college," Barry
replied, but it lodged in his mind the same thing,
even though he knows Steve has received calls and
messages on his cell phone from time to time.

After yawning, Philip says, "C'mon Ai, I think I can
fall asleep."

"And if you have any problem boys," Barry suggests,
"just lie in bed and talk softly. At least your bodies
will get some rest."

Both thanked their dad for talking with them. Picking
up the two mugs of hot chocolate, Barry chugged down
the remnants of one, then the other. Entering the
bungalow, he stripped out of his bathrobe.

"Oh yeah. Much better without!"

"I thought you were so tired you couldn't stay awake,
Steve?"

"I was. Until I started dreaming about running into a
bear in a forest!"

%

Yawning, Riley Sanchez stretched out far and wide
across the bed. Not looking, his left hand felt up the
space next to him, bunching up the other pillow in his
big hand. Rising, he looked out the side window facing
the barn. With the barn door open he gathered Juan was
either tending to the horses or had taken an early
morning ride. Juggling around his cock and balls, he
yawned for the second time, his privates making him
smile from the nice sex they had last night. It's the
first time ever he caught himself whistling a happy
tune while shooting last night's beer down the toilet.
Upbeat he sang some words to the whistled tune while
showering.

"Somebody's in a good mood!"

"Hmm," Riley said as Juan pulled back the shower
curtain, "you been out riding bareback?" he questioned
Juan in the buff.

Stepping over the shower wall, Juan makes comment,
"Only last night!"

"Well don't let our little secret get around, huh?"
With his hand he told Juan to twirl around. Himself
all soaped up, he began massaging Juan's back, suds
appearing instantly. "Phewy! You smell like horse
shit!"

"It's what horses usually do, don't they?"

"Two points," Riley replied. However regardless of the
odor emanating from Juan's bod, Riley enclosed him in
his arms, his head situated on the nineteen year old's
shoulder, semi-soft cock locked against Juan's ass
crevice, his hands exploring the wet trail leading
down yonder.

"Um, don't forget you're on duty this morning?"

As Juan slid around in Riley's arms, he responded,
"Yeah. Playing traffic cop to three hundred elementary
school kids!"

"I thought you liked kids?"

"I like you," Riley jokes, his face breaking into a
smile.

"I'm nine years younger than you. Hardly makes me your
son," Juan replied.

"Hey!" Riley replied as Juan forced his bod up against
Riley making him back-step under the showerhead.

But it wasn't only his bod he was slapping against
Riley, as he grabbed him up in his arms, both
lip-locking. Juan stayed plastered to Riley, moaning
as he felt a big hand around his cock, Riley matching
up his `hard one' alongside.

"I can't believe you're a bottom."

It killed the soothing action for a moment, Riley
stating adamantly, "I'm `not' a bottom!"

"I love watching you get angry!" Juan giggled.

"I'm only a bottom 2% of the time," he reinforced his
position.

"Two? And I thought you were really enjoying having me
deep inside you last night?" Juan put it to him.

He stood there for a moment, pondering his answer.
It's been strange for Riley, as devout as a Catholic,
he also stood by his guns over the years when it came
to what position he held in bed. For the first time in
his life he was in discussion on the subject of
falling from the topsail. "Okay. 10%, but that's as
far as I'm going."

"Oh really? And what percent of that ten can be
accounted for when you licked my shaft til it was as
hard as a rock and then sunk your lips over the top
til the head hit your tonsils?"

"I don't have any tonsils. I had them out when I was
eight year old," Riley replied, by now his hands on
his hips, the stance of a cop, but without the
clothes.

"Like I said. You're cute when you're mad. C'mon. If
we don't hurry those kids will be crossing the street
without you."

Turning off the water, Juan lead the way out of the
shower. "Think fast!" he shouted when tossing Riley a
towel.

It was pretty much silent as they toweled down their
bods, Riley still in deep thought about all this top
and bottom business.

"Look," Juan interrupted his thoughts, "if it's
bugging you...."

"Nothing's bugging me," Riley tried hiding what Juan
had already guessed bugged him.

"What we do in our bed is nobody's business but our
own, but if it comes up, you can just say I'm
versatile," Juan put it as he placed a foot on the tub
wall to dry in between his legs.

"You're right. It isn't anybody else's business but
ours," Riley simply stated, pondering whether he would
use Juan's way of putting who was the `inserter'.

Toweling off Riley's shoulders where he missed soaking
up the raindrops, Juan says, "Besides, we're just
getting started here, finding out what I like - what
you like. Who knows? Things could change."

As Juan headed out of the jon, Riley questioned,
feeling up his sagging meat, "You mean maybe tonight
you can find out how big I am?"

"No."

Riley's attitude dropped a foot.

"Maybe you'll get tired of having me around. Maybe
you'll...."

"Do me a favor Juan?"

"What?" Juan replied.

"Shut up and get ready before we're late for the
kiddies?"

Out of the corner of his eye, as he put on his briefs
then dark, navy blue pants, Riley watched Juan get
dressed in front of the mirror. He smiled as Juan made
a smile, picking something from his tooth. Smiling, he
thought of himself, a year younger than Juan, being
just as vain. But really what stopped him in the
middle of buckling his belt is when Juan picked up his
brush off the dresser. He didn't have much hair to
speak of, almost a buzz cut. Fascinated, he stood
there watching Juan smooth the combing implement from
midchest, down his stomach, over his navel and stop at
the rim of his white CK's.

"What is it you are doing may I ask?" he inquired
after walking the distance to the dresser and stood
behind him.

"Oh this you mean?" Juan replied, this time brushing
from the waistline, up.

"Yeah," Riley replied, a look to Juan's stomach,
chest, then face.

"Nothing really. You see I started to get this stripe
down my stomach when I was seventeen. As it grew in, I
wondered how different it would be going up or going
down."

"Up or down?" Riley questioned, same time thinking how
absurd.

"Yeah," Juan answered, once again swiping the brush
down over his tummy trail, "down", then up, "or up?
The hair kind of lays a little different going up," he
swept up, "then down. Which do you think looks
better?"

For the life of him Riley could not distinquish which
way was better, stomach trail brushed upwards or
downwards. "To me? Does it matter?"

It wasn't the answer Juan was looking for. In a fit of
mischief he quickly looked upon Riley's dark chest of
fur, took the brush and ground it in, grazing over his
left pec.

"Oh shit!" Riley called out, backing away. He took up
his left pectoral in his hand and zeroed in on his
nip, fingers of his other hand unearthing his nip from
the forest of his chest hair.

On the other hand, Juan was laughing his ass off.
"Feel good?" he joked.

"No!" Riley replied in an angered manner, but not
really angry. "Look how red you made it!"

"Get out of town," Juan told him. "Your nips are
always pinkish anyway." Then he suggests, "Kiss and
make it better?"

However, Juan didn't wait for a reply. Instead he
cocked his neck and licked right over the hairy nip.

"Oh shit, stop it before you make me hard?" Riley
replied, really wanting it to go on.

"You're right. We should be getting ready."

Walking towards the closet, Juan left Riley in his
dust. Grabbing one of the cowboy-looking shirts, he
fed his hand into the sleeve.

"Well? You going to stand there all day and stare at
yourself in the mirror?" Juan accused Riley.

%

"Hey!"

"Is Kev... oh... I thought you were the doctor," Tom
Letterli spoke up to Ethan, standing there in his
stockboy outfit, except for the tie dangling from his
open shirt.

"Have you heard anything about Kev?" He asked,
heartfeltly concerned.

"Not a peep. Ethan, I'm getting worried."

Down on one knee, as if proposing, Ethan says, "Now,
now. Let's not jump to any conclusions. When they
brought him in you said the doctor reported Kev was
undergoing surgery. It could've taken a lot of time."

"I suppose," Tom replied in a solemn mood.

"Then it takes time for recovery," he snuck his arm
around Tom's back, cupping his other shoulder in his
hand, Tom's shoulder to his chest.

"I guess."

"Besides. It's early in the morning. The hospital
doesn't wake up til nine o'clock," Ethan put it a
little more cheery.

"Yeah," Tom replied, finally lifting his head from
staring at his lap, to Ethan's smile. "You're right.
Ethan?"

"What?"

Returning the hug, over the arm of the chair, Tom
says, "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Ethan simply put it, "It's nice to feel wanted. Hey
look, I've got to get to the store before the boys and
girls wonder where I am."
After exchanging a kiss, Ethan rises, departing with,
"Hey, you give me a call if you hear anything."

"Okay," Tom replied.

After Ethan left, Tom sat there for the longest time,
three minutes seeming like an hour. He glanced around
when low, nighttime lighting gave way to brightening
up the white walls of the hospital. Looking at his
watch, it read eight o'clock. Getting up, he stretched
his legs, placing his hands together like praying and
straightened them out in front of him. on a Yoga
stance. Taking a few steps forwards, he noticed a
young guy, possibly college age, hanging around the
nurse's station. Nobody was about. The guy seemed to
be awfully secretative, a finger disturbing some
folders in an upright rack on the desk. Keyed in to
the only action on the floor, he saw the guy turn
around, display an Eskridge Community College team
jacket, what team he didn't know, but not as important
as the husky fellow finding one particular folder
interesting. Turning back around, there was a smile on
his face as he replaced the folder in the bin, making
sure it was properly mixed in.

"Oh... hi," he said to Tom, noticing he had been under
surveillance.

"Hi," Tom replied.

The lad volunteered, "My friend is someplace here and
I thought I'd look him up."

"I take it you found him?" Tom replied.

"Yeah. Well my mom was a nurse and I kind of `know'
what to look for."

"Oh really?" Tom said, closing in on the guy. Two feet
away, he inquired, "Maybe you can help me out with
finding somebody I know?"

"I don't know... I...."

"Tom Letterli," he stuck out his hand to the college
sports jock.  "My brother Kev was in surgery last
night and I...."

"Oh then his file wouldn't be with these. It should
be...." the guy looked around before bending `way
over' the counter. "Oh by the way," he handed Tom his
hand, "Tony Gagliardi. Here you go."

Before Tom fingered through the bunch Tony handed him,
he said, "You're the fellow who found my brother."

"Right. Now I know where I met you. Yeah. It was kind
of dark and all the questioning by the cops. Yeah, I
remember seeing you at the scene, but I didn't know
Kev was `your' brother or you...."

Before Tony could finish his sentence he was
bear-hugged.

"I owe you a lot, Tony. If you hadn't found Kev who
knows what would have happened to him."

They hugged for a little time. After breaking, Tony
took the folder squashed between them, saying, "Here.
Let me take a look at that for you."

"Anything?" Tom asks hurriedly.

"Doesn't tell much," Tony replied. "In surgery, out of
surgery, but not much else." He placed the rest on the
counter.

Tony understood as Tom snatched the folder away from
him.

As Tom checked out the folder, Tony checked out Tom,
the wide shoulders, the dark chest hair, prominent
against the white shirt with two buttons unfastened.
He skipped over the folder blocking Tom's stomach, his
eyes making a dash for the crotch area.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh yeah," Tony replied, realizing Tom was done with
his search, handing him back the folder. He also
wondered if Tom saw him checking out his lower half.

"So, are you here to visit your boyfriend or friend?"

"Sorry," Tony said, turning a slight hue of red.

"What for?" Tom asked.

"Yeah, okay. You snagged me," Tony fessed up to. "I
guess since you're not beating me to a pulp you
like... `understand'?"

Putting his glum mood aside, Tom says, "Forget about
it."

"If I can do anything for you," Tony says
suggestively.

"Sorry," Tom cut him off. "I appreciate your concern.
I sort of have a boyfriend. I thought maybe you did
too."

"Oh, Denis you mean?" Tony replied.

"Is that who you were looking up?"

"Yeah. He's kind of having a problem with himself. I
think it's depression." Referring back to Kev's file,
"Sorry there wasn't anything about your brother."

Throwing both hands up in the air, palms slapping
against his thighs, Tom looked like a man giving up
hope. "Oh man I can't believe this is happening to us.
You always think it happens to the other guy until it
hits home. They took him into surgery last night and I
haven't heard a peep."

Thinking Denis could wait for an hour, Tony stole a
second glance through Kev's folder, saying, "Sorry I
can't help you. At least if your brother was in
surgery most likely he would be in ICU."

"Just what I figured," Tom said, wiping a hand over
his brow as if it was a hundred and ten degrees in the
hospital lobby.

"Say, I haven't had anything to eat this morning. How
about a cup of coffee?" Tony offers, feeling for him
as he places his palm against Tom's shoulder.

"Might not be a bad idea at that."

Over a cup of coffee, Tony listened while Tom poured
out almost the whole saga of himself growing up with
Kev, their parents' passing, Kev falling into the
wrong crowd, drugs, arrested for drunk driving,
literally bailing him out of falling head over heels
into the downward spire of life.

"I thought all that had changed, moving out here from
the city. I figured the country would be good for him.
I set him up in college and I... I thought he was
doing alright, then all this had to come about."

Tony sensed Tom blaming himself. "What happened to Kev
is not your fault. The papers said Kev wasn't the only
victim."

Tom looked up from stirring his coffee the spoon on
its eightieth revolution, "The papers?"

"Yeah. The morning paper. Your brother made the front
page."

Almost knocking his coffee over, Tom's elbows took up
the table ledge in front of him as he rubbed his eyes.


"If you're worried about his picture being in there...
`nada'. They show only the road leading to the
environmental center. They don't even show the place I
found him."

Again Tom became overwhelmed with Tony finding Kev.
Reaching across the table, Tom grabbed up both of
Tony's hands, held them, reiterated, "I'll never be
able to repay you for saving Kev's life."

Through the night Tony lost a lot of sleep, one of the
thoughts running over and over, `what if he hadn't
almost stumbled upon Kev's body'. Being a humble guy,
he replied, "If it wasn't me, it would have been
someone else."

But as they gazed in each others eyes, both knew the
truth, Tony not saying it, Tom thinking it.

%

As if they had slept soundly through the night, Philip
and Aidan were the first ones up, bustling around the
kitchen, helping Max do breakfast setup.

"Um guys?"

The two looked up at Max. "Bacon and eggs?"

"Oh!" The two said simultaneously, exhanging cereal
bowls for plates.

"So what time do you have to be in town?" Max inquired
even though he had the morning schedule down pat.

"Ms. Duffy is going to be there early but she said us
kids need to be there by nine," Philip said.

"And how long is this event supposed to last?"

Not meaning it sassy, Aidan replies, "Who knows how
long it takes to plant plants!"

"Good answer," Max replied, mostly meant for himself.

"What's for breakfast?" Mark asks, entering the
kitchen with Jose.

Both in boxer shorts, Philip and Aidan flash a look at
each other. Reading the situation, Mark informs them,
"Jose slept in my room and I slept on the sofa."

"We didn't say anything!" Aidan replied.

Jose laughed when Mark said, "You didn't have to. It
was written all over your faces, ya little squirts!"

Then a conversation ensued, Philip and Aidan arguing
the point they weren't `little' anymore and they
weren't `squirts', Aidan at least fending for himself,
throwing the blame of the nickname back onto his
twelve year old brother.

"I don't have to know the gritty details," Jose said
to Aidan's statement about telling how the word
`squirt' became woven into the Clark-Barr vocabulary.

Philip and Jose exchanged smiles, a quiet `thanks'
from Philip for sparing him the unknown embarrassment.


"Hey Mark, do you think Denis will mind if we borrow
his other football?" Eric asks, straddling the kitchen
bench.

"You got a game going?" Mark asks. "Tom, you playing?"
he asks his step-bro.

As he thought, Tom replies, "Nah. I'm helping Penny,"
his girlfriend, "plant flowers."

"Cool!" Aidan replies.

Philip adds, "I like Penny."

"Not as much as I do, I hope," Tom comments.

"You know I'm not into girls," Philip tells him.

"Me neither," Aidan goes along with, wrinkling up his
nose like somebody offered him liver for breakfast.

"You guys are only twelve year old," Jose interjects,
"and you know you're gay?"

"Thirteen," Aidan sets the record straight, turning it
around, asking, "How old were you when you knew,
Jose?"

"Me?" Jose stalled, thinking of how he was about to
each his own words. "Um, about ten?"

Even Eric and Tom had a good laugh.

"We miss anything?" Barry said as he and Steve entered
the fray of laughter.

"Nope!" Philip returned the favor to Jose.

"Must be meant for the under twenty crowd," Steve
observes, leaving themselves, the two-late thirties
guys out.

"Ahem!" Max, the only twenty-something guy in the
room, voices his opinion of Steve's statement.

Before anyone else could make comment, the back door
slams with a bang.

"Got any extra?" Diego asks, already going for the
extra room at the table.

Seth explains, "Our dads over slept!"

As Steve says, "What a time for Freddie," their cook,
"to be on vacation,"  as Barry remarks on the sly, "I
dunno Max, we got any `extra'?"

"Always!" he quips.

"There he goes again!" Philip said, adding laughter to
the other boys around his age.

In split-second timing, Max had the eggs out,
cracking, breaking them into a bowl with one hand as
his other hand whisked them up.

%

"Oh how I hate to get up in the morning!" Maury sang
out, stretching both arms out to his side. "Oh, sorry
`bout that!" He said to the bedfellow next to him.

There Josh Crew lay naked, his arms above his head,
his dark hairy armpits against his white skin, almost
pronounced as the hair on his chest.

"Oh, did I forget to untie you?"

"These cuffs are almost strangling my wrists," he
complained.

"Oh really?" Maury replied, turning over on his side,
propping his head up on one hand, his other hand
grazing over Josh's hairy pecs.

"Ohhhhh," Josh `complained', his nips hardening up as
he felt a chill come over his bod.

As Maury slid his hand down the defined trail dividing
Josh's abs, he mentions, "It's always fun
interrogating you."

"Best part being when you tie me to the bed with my
legs up?" Josh replies.

"Yeah. I love working over your tight little ass!"

More sighing and moaning comes over the detective as
Maury's finger finds the tight little hole he fucked
with his big tool last night.

"Don't stop!" Josh says when Maury exits his finger.

His hand caressing Josh's balls, Maury inquires, "So
you think about exploring deeper?" He adds a little
squeeze.

"Ouch... Ohhh...Oh.. I'm not sure."

Releasing the over-sized orbs, he says as his hand
massages Josh's hardening cock, "This is really the
only answer I need!"

For now Maury forgets about the cbt, falls over onto
Josh and massages his lips with his, his hands busy
above Josh's head, untying the ropes linking the
leather cuffs to the headboard.

%

Copyright 2008 T. Chase McPhee
This story may not be sold, nor made part of any
collection, without prior consent from the author.