Date: Sat, 3 Jan 2009 18:53:25 -0800 (PST)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: Natural Wildlife 01 - 'Nature Walk' continues

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.

%

Natural Wildlife 01
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

"Huh?" Richard asked after Eric nudged him out of a light siesta.

Eric had a smile on his face as he nodded.

Looking up, the flight attendant offers, "Cocktail sir?"

For what seemed like a minute, Richard held his eyes affixed on the navy
blue uniformed guy.

"If you don't care for the red wine, I can serve you up some white... or
water... What would be your pleasure sir?"

"Red will be just fine," Richard replied, his eyes still focused. Passing
by, Richard did the best he could to peer around the back of his seat.

In the meantime, Alac and Eric were giggling.

Richard knew it was about him. "Okay guys. What's up?"

"That's what we'd like to know?" Alac leaned over Eric, showing curiosity,
but also knowing what Eric knew, since indeed Richard being the subject of
their banter.

Eric got his digs in, "So, why didn't you give him your `real' answer of
`your pleasure sir'?"

Not giving either of them the benefit of the doubt, Richard tips his glass
and offers, "Cheers!" He tips the plastic glass to his lips and downs the
four thimble-fulls of wine.

As the attendant moves down the aisle, Eric says without reservation,
"Tasty little morsel, don't you think so Richard?"

"The beans aren't bad. At least they are crunchy, but the chicken.. without
the gravy it wouldn't be half bad," Richard played down Eric's thoughts.

Eric didn't need to probe Richard's mind, a familiar voice making comment,
"The same here," the attendant sat on the arm of the vacant seat across the
aisle, "but try to get the kids to eat green vegetables and... well I wish
there were a remedy for it."

"Not my Griffin," Richard draws on knowledge from his own kin, "now I don't
know how lucky I got, but he never passes up eating a bunch of greens. I
suppose my profession has had an impact on his eating habits."

"You don't say?" the flight attendant says, with a more conforting
position, arms folded across his middle. "And that would be?"

Startled, Richard replies, "Oh me you mean? Um, I'm a doctor."

"Private practice?"

"On a part time basis. Most of the time I hang around the hospital. What
about you?" It's then Richard's attention deviates from his the looks,
other than the uniform.

Same time, the attendant offers, "I'm a flight attendant?" He evokes a mild
laugh, joking type, not meant to ridicule.

And Richard, seeing this, takes it as thus, "Sorry." Fast, he changes the
subject, "So how old are your kids?"

"Asif is seven and Serhan is eight. How about your's?"

"Griffin is nine." He searched for another object of his curiosity, "How
long have you and your wife been married?"

To his left, Eric and Alac were all ears, Eric whispering his own thought,
"Good question!"

"I had a partner. He died of a heart attack. Eric was only twenty-six."

When the name was mentioned, Eric leaned over in from of Richard. "Oh hi
there. I'm Eric Danziger and this is," Eric leaned back to introduce, "my
um, boyfriend, Alac Davalos."

Two thoughts occured simultaneously, Alac thinking of how Eric defined
their relationship, as more affectionate than friends, and the flight
attendant when he leaned across Richard's front to shake Eric's hand, his
hand missing the seat and leaned against Richard's shoulder. "I'm so
sorry," he apologized to Richard, removing it. Richard smiled up at him, as
his hand, not face, greeted Alac.

"Hi, I'm Richard," he abruptly interrupted Alac's and the attendant's
association.

Closest they've been, neither had the inclination of the other, wanting to
taste lips as their words and motions stood stagnant.

"Um," Eric breaks up their little interlude, "you don't happen to have a
name, do you?"

"I'm sorry," the flight attendant replied. His hand already grasped
Richard's, so all he had to do is say, "Ajay Sehgal." Then the hands
started moving up and down, "I'm pleased to meet you."

"Same here," Richard replied, a quaint smile added.

But their encounter was brief, the pilot's announcement, "Attention all
passengers, the plane will be landing at Mid-Regional Airport in twenty
minutes. Please return to your seats..."

As the announcement went on, Ajay excuses himself, "It's been a pleasure. I
wish I had more time to talk, but...."

The other flight attendant calls Ajay's attention, a small boy in the back
of the plane upchucking his lunch!

"Don't forget to get his number before we leave the plane," Eric is brazen
to say.

Alac chimes in, "What nice playmates his children would be for Griffin,
no?"

"Just cut it guys," Richard turned off their enthusiasm. "It was nice to
meet him, but for now I'm not interested in pursuing any deadends. So drop
it, okay?"

Eric and Alac looked at each other, surprised by the `Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde'
attitude. So, it's exactly what his two friends did, with only minor
protesting. And that's the way it seemed to be, Ajay saying, "Thank you for
flying with us," nothing personal said, only the airlines slogan.

"Thanks," Richard replied, giving Ajay a cordial handshake, as did many of
the other passengers.

After departing the plane, without the hustle and bustle of an
international climate, Eric clues the two in, "C'mon. We better hustle.  If
my assistant is on time, he'll be waiting for us."

For the summer, Eric took a chance on hiring a student in transition,
Freshman to Sophomore year, from WRCC. On the job for two weeks, Tristan
has proved to become an asset to Eric's business life, so much so he didn't
hesitate to leave matters in the twenty year old's hands. Only, instead of
the white limo bringing them to the airport, he waves to them from a four
door sedan.

"Where's the limo?" Eric asks.

"Sorry `bout that. My cousin needed it back and...."

"Back? I thought you said he had a fleet of limos, Tristan?" Eric asks in a
grouchy manner.

"He did.... does.... did, but every year after graduation he has made it a
habit to have them serviced. This is no good?"

Through the passenger side window, Eric mentally counts the seats. "I
suppose if I sat in the front this would work out. Kind of crampy though."

"Good!" Tristan accepted it, walking to the back, helping Richard and Alac
feed their luggage into the trunk like a hippo opening his mouth.

Eric wasn't really teed off. An expert employee was allowed to goof off
once in awhile, especially a `hot' looking expert employee! So, giving up
on his grumpy attitude, he followed Tristan's footsteps. Only, his
attention wasn't on the luggage.

It's Alac who noticed where Eric's attention was drawn. He pulls on
Richard's arm and says, "Hey look! It's your friend Ajay!"

"He's not my friend," Richard said without looking up.

The others did, giving Ajay their full attention.

"Hot looking guy," Tristan remarks.

He wasn't in his airlines uniform, but rather had changed into civilian
clothing, an ordinary guy in jeans, tee shirt and jacket. Behind himself he
toted a piece of luggage which had the airlines insignia embroidered on
it. He didn't see the trio of lookers, himself looking away, down the lane
where cars would access the airport pickup.

"Yeah, that's what we all thought," and Eric again got his digs in, "except
Richard here."

Rather boisterously, Richard uprights himself from leaning in the trunk and
boasts, "I didn't say he's `not' hot looking!"

Under the flange of the pickup bay, sound traveled. So much so, Ajay's head
switched from `away', `towards' the assemblage behind Tristan's borrowed
car.

"Oh no," Richard said as Ajay waved, a distant `Hello' in the background.

As if a parent to a child, Eric says, "Be nice now, Richard."

Taking the lead, Eric stepped up onto the sidewalk to greet, "Ajay. How you
doing? Off duty?"

"Yea," he replied, not so much as giving Eric his full attention. Like
carrying on a one-sided conversation with Richard, he replies, "For the
week. I get to spend time with my boys," and then he looks again down the
oneway lane, "but I wonder what's keeping them?"

Seeking more info, Eric asks, "Oh, so you're from around here?"

"My brother, Siraj. He and his partner are watching Serhan and Asif. They
do this whenever I am out of town, which..." Ajay seemed to speak his mind,
telling things he wouldn't normally unload on total strangers, "seems to be
quite often lately. I just wish I could find a job which would keep me
grounded permanently. And yes, my family settled in Seattle. Two years ago
Siraj met the love of his life and moved out here. We live forty minutes,"
he points against traffic, "to the east."

"We live west from here," Eric tells, "but it wouldn't be an imposition to
drop you off?"

Bah humbug! Richard states, "I don't think there's room in the car."

"Oh," Ajay says. "I suppose I should wait for Siraj and the boys."

"Nonsense," Eric contradicts Richard's assessment of the situation, "here,"
he whips out his cell phone, "why don't you give your brother a call. If
he's on his way then.... well if he's not, we can give you a lift."

With Ajay on the sidewalk, his ear glued to Eric's cell, Richard corners
Eric, "What in the hell are you trying to pull, Eric?"

In his face, Eric replies, "Is that anyway to talk to your friend who's
trying to help you out?"

"You can `help me out' by leaving my love life to my own affairs. It's been
too short a time to think about getting involved with another man."

"Bullshit!" from Eric caused Alac and Tristan, nearby, to pay attention,
yet Eric kept right on with his assault of words, "You yourself as much as
said there was nothing amorous between you and Aldo, except to retrieve a
few pieces of trivial memorabilia. What're you going to do Richard? Stay
bottled up at the hospital for the rest of your life?"

"Noooo... I..." Protest was on the tip of his tongue, but Eric cut him off.

"If not for yourself, think of Griffin. Wouldn't it be nice to have two
little brothers? Wouldn't it be nice for the both of you to start building
a family life together."

"But Eric, I'm not..."

"And Ajay... I mean I don't get these vibes everyday, but I think he's a
helluva sweet guy, not to mention he's the hottest thing on two legs," then
he thinks a sec after looking up at Alac over the top of the car, "almost!"

Wiping one hand over his face, Richard gives in to pressure, but not
necessarily to Eric's ideas, "Whatever. Let's just get home?"

Tristan would tell Eric later, he didn't think anyone was as disappointed
as him when Ajay reported his brother was on his way. However, they did
hang around to, at Ajay's insistence, be introduced to his brother, his
brother's lover and the two boys.

As one last thread of hope, Eric made it his business to steer the seven
and eight year olds in Richard's direction. How could Richard not be
cordial to two such darling boys. Hoping it would soften his heart and
mind, Eric left them with the thought, "Hey, we should all get together for
a barbecue at my place!"

%

After the late afternoon session at Pacific Northwest Experience, Mitch had
asked Denis and Jared to hang on for a moment after the other boys
departed.

"What's up Mitch?" Denis started up the powwow between the three.

"Did you know you boys were being followed?" Mitch asks.

Both Denis and Jared acted mystified.

"Followed?" Jared inquires.

Denis asks, "Who's following us? And to like where?"

"Miles is really a good friend to you boys and..."

"Good friend?" Denis' mood turns ugly when suddenly all cards are turned up
on the table. "He snitched on us!"

"Now wait a minute. Hear me out first?"

"What's there to hear Mitch?" Jared questions his motives.

"Miles in no way had anything to do with me finding out about your little
sexual escapades at `the cabin'. It's after I had followed you two into the
woods, peered through a crack in the curtained window and caught you two in
the act, did I confront him with this."

"You saw us," Jared says timidly, "having sex?"

Before Mitch answers Jared, Denis is `at his throat', "You fuckin' pervert!
You're no better than a ... than a... than a peeping Tom, that's what you
are!"

Mitch didn't want to see this part of Denis, hadn't the intentions of Denis
getting upset. Jared seemed to be handling it mildly without his temper
escalating, but Denis was throwing fifty fits.

"Who in the hell do you think you are?"

He tried calming Denis, hands on his shoulder, about to explain, but Denis
had butted his teen chest up against Mitch's bear bod, raging with a temper
hotter than an oven. When Jared started to calm him, he threw him aside,
shaking his arm free of his hand. He assaulted Mitch not only with words
but began pushing him.

Having to use his better judgement, Mitch took Denis' hands and held them
together.

With his adrenaline rushing, his mind torn between being ratted out by
Miles, being spied on during he and Jared's sexual adventures, plus the
fact he thought of Mitch as his friend, which didn't seem the case now,
Denis freed one hand enough to sock Mitch in the jaw.

"Oh shit, Denis!" Jared said, seeing the damage Denis' right upper cut did.

Mitch felt it, but gained more reality of the situation when he looked at
the blood on the back of his hand. He thought maybe his actions would
stifle his temper, but it didn't, Denis still lashing out at him. He had no
recourse than to restrain him, so manhandle him, turning him about, pushing
his chest down on a table, drawing both of his arms behind his back and
pinning him to the conference table with the weight of his bod. "Jared! Go
fetch Dr. Singh! Now!"

Jared was out of there like a bat out of hell, grabbing some stares over
his shoulder as he went.

%

"Feels so good getting away."

"Away? From what?" Tony asks.

Part of the conclusion of a great afternoon, after walking Tony's estate,
after dinner, he and Dylan sit in the shallow end of the swimming pool,
Dylan's legs open to accept Tony's butt, skin touching cock and balls,
Dylan's arms inbetween Tony's arms and beefy bod, hands gently splashing
water up against Tony's pecs.

"Everything. It's the reason I want to transfer to WRCC. I need to get
away."

Turning his head a bit, he asks Dylan, "You still didn't answer `what'?"

The twenty year old slouches, drawing Tony backwards, a mattress for Tony
to recline on as he spills, "It began years ago. My real dad was great, but
unfortunately he was born with a disease. I still don't know exactly what
it was, but slowly his immune system got so weak even life support couldn't
keep him from slipping...." his voice dropped off, then, "So about a month
after my dad passed away, mom started to get friendly with his business
partner. I had met him a couple of times when dad brought Jackson. That's
his name, Jackson Redman, back to the house. They loved sports and were
always out drinking after a game. Sometimes I went to a game and believe
me, they really got wound up!" For a split second, Dylan's voice soared
with returning thoughts of a good time had by him and his father and
Jackson, on occasion. "I mean don't get me wrong, I think Jackson's a great
guy, only..."

By this time Tony had flipped over on his front and sort of floated on
water's top. "Only what, Dylan?"

"I think he married mom under false pretenses."

"Oh?"

"He wasn't totally straight."

"With her?" Tony questioned.

"No. Not `that' kind of straight. I don't think he kept anything from
her... only..." Then off on another tangent, "I like accidentally..." He
stuttered then stopped. Then full speed ahead, "Tony, I caught my dad and
Jackson kissing one time."

Tony made his own conclusions, "Kissing, is it? Then he wasn't `straight'
straight? Like he was gay?"

"No. Maybe bi. I don't know. All I know is my mom didn't have a
clue. Until..."

"Hey, want a beer?" It was a quick diversion, one to break the ice as Tony
stood and pulled Dylan up, the water rushing down their bods like Niagra.

"Got anything stronger?" Dylan replied.

Tony's parents left him quite a setup at the mansion, with an olympic size
swimming pool, the ability at a flick of a switch, glass tiles enclosing it
from top to bottom, still a window to the stars. Off to the side was an
abbreviated bar, at which Tony stood behind and Dylan's jewels dangled from
a barstool.

"Two cubes or one?"

"Whatever."

Tony chose two for each and then trickled JD into each beverage
glass. Rounding the bar, Tony had a glass in each hand, the brown liquid
sloshing around, a bottle tucked under his pit. Like a lost puppy, Dylan
followed him over to the chaise lounges. Only before Tony deposited
himself, he moved it to a fraction of an inch from Dylan's chair.

"So you never let on to your mother?"

"I didn't `have' to. She was out having her hair done, except the salon
caught on fire. She came home and found Jackson in bed with the
carpenter. They were having their bedroom closet remodeled into a small,
room-sized walkin."

With a pause in the story, each giving their glasses a couple of sips, Tony
asks, "So what'd she do? Go at him with a baseball bat?"

"Nah. Mom's not like that. But one thing about my mom and I. We're really
close. We've always been that way. When dad took sick I was the first
person she came to. Somehow I have this way of understanding things and not
getting upset."

"Oh really?" Tony asks, the nineteen year old setting his glass on the
patio floor, turning in his chaise to his side, his hand over both arms and
a few fingers playing Dylan's hairy forearm like a piano.

"I asked her what she was going to do and she said `nothing'. She loved my
real dad, but in a way always `liked' Jackson, until after my real dad
passed away. Then they found out they had a lot in common."

"Did she ever find out about your `real' dad?"

"Y'know Tony, I always thought only gay people had the gift of gaydar?"

Tony sorta jokes, "Maybe your mom is gay?"

"I don't think so," Dylan said confidently.

"So she marries, finds out her dying husband is gay... or assumes, and then
when he passes away, finds out the other guy is in fact gay?"

"Bi," Dylan corrected him.

"Bi. So, they're still together?"

"Estranged I guess it would be called. They live under the same roof, but
not in the same bedroom." Then to add a lighter note, "She got the bedroom
with the extended closet!"

And by now under the influence, Tony responds, "And he got the shaft!"

Not any different than Tony, the half gone bottle of JD was taking a toll
on their mental senses.

Turning on his side to face Tony, Dylan goes beyond Tony's hand-play,
reaching down to Tony's shaft, "When are you going to give me the tour of
the upstairs of the house?"

When they walked in the back door of the house, Gerard had just finished
drawing up the menu for next week. He could smell their breath from `a mile
away', but it was a surefire hint of them supporting each other, their
limbs were all sinewy with the effects of the spit in the bottle of JD Tony
carried.

"You guys need some help!" It wasn't a question, but an assumption which
proved true, Gerard coming in between the two, Tony's left arm over
Gerard's right shoulder, likewise with Dylan's right over Gerard's left
shoulder. Good thing Gerard kept up his muscular status by working out in
the gym most days.

Gerard had always suggested it in jest, Tony uttering it a surprise, "Hey!
Let's have a threeway!"

"You mean I get my pick of who I want to fuck?" Dylan said out loudly, to
him a joke which commanded a performance of long and loud laughter.

Gerard just rolled his eyes, but in a way started feeling a `maybe' between
his legs. With these two drunk out of their gourds, they would be easy
prey!

%

"Ahhh, it feels soooo good to be home in my own bed!"

"And I got news for you Steve, you're going to stay put in this bed until I
tell you you can get out of it!" Barry lectured his mate.

"And what if I have to tinkle?"

"Have a catheter installed, with the other end hanging out the window!"

"Ewwwwwe. How could you even think of sticking something in my dick?" Steve
said in disgust.

"You had it done in the hospital Steve and you didn't feel that way?"

Steve protested, "That's because they did it when I wasn't conscious. Once
it was in there is different than feeling it going in!"

Barry had to laugh, "Yeah but when they pulled it out you cried like a
banshee!"

"Ohhhhhhhh, don't even remind me. Damn was that painful!"

He smiled in the dark, a devilous feeling coming over him as he asks, "How
does it feel now?"

"Um... heavenly, to put it mildly?"

No more was said, only words describing how much Steve further enjoyed
Barry's ministrations, his lips replacing his hand as he firmed him up!

%

Copyright 2009 T. Chase McPhee

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



The more you stretch, the more you can fit in... 'spread' happiness!
TCMcP.....