Date: Tue, 7 Nov 2006 19:50:13 -0800 (PST)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: "Nature Country" 30

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.

%

NATURE COUNTRY 30
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%
"Haven't I seen you before?"

Mark, looking over to the driver, from the passenger
seat of the 4x4, quickly made up a story.

"Um, no. I don't think so. Y'see, I'm just passing
through. Yeah, that's it, headed up to my aunt and
uncle's place, up north."

"What's your name?"

"Um... Pete. That's it," Mark replied.

"The name's Kevin," the driver replies. "Why not take
the bus?"

Mark could swear he's seen the twenty-something year
old about the town.

"I'm trying to save my money."

"It could get cold up in these parts, especially at
night. Not a smart thing for a guy to be hitch hiking,
not to mention the creatures lurking about."

"I can take care of myself."

"I'm sure. Listen, I'm going to stop for a coffee,
since I've got a long drive ahead of me. Want
something?"

"Nah. Like I said, I hafta save my money," the down
trodden youth replied.

"Hot chocolate, then, on me?"

Mark analysed the guy. He looked friendly enough,
besides it's not like he was a total stranger, being
he's seen him around.

"Sure. Thanks."

Leaving Mark in his truck, Kevin Spangler, `fruits and
vegetables' man for Barr's & Bridges', walked into
Birdy's Cafe, to make his purchase.

"I'm about ready to close, Kev. What can I get you?"

"Hmm... Don't be too obvious, but take a look at the
kid in my truck cab. Tell me if you recognize him?"

Michael Byrd looks through the mini'blind, attached to
the front door.

"Sure. That's Chad Barr's kid-brother."

"I thought he was part of that clan."

"But the name escapes me."

"Pete?" Kevin calls out.

Watching along with Michael, shoulder to shoulder,
Kevin knows his mind shouldn't be attached to such
thoughts, but he picks up some strange vibes.

"Nah, that's not it. Doesn't sound right."

"That's the name he gave me. Comes to mind I've seen
him only once before. Yeah, I think it had been with
Chad. At the store."

"So, what's he doing in your truck?"

"He made up some story about visiting and aunt and
uncle, up north."

"I doubt that one bit. The Barr's are from back east.
Chad hasn't mentioned any relatives out this way.
Matter of fact, other than his dad having a brother, I
think that's it. No, the kid's definitely giving you a
cock'n'bull story."

"Exactly what I thought. So, what do we do?"

"I'll phone Chad."

"Good idea," Kevin replies.

Moving from the front door, Michael proceeds to step
behind the counter. Kevin blatantly notices the
swaying hips, then scans him upwards, till their faces
meet. He smiles. The thirty-one year old smiles back,
then gets serious, when the dial tone kicks in.

"Hey, Chad?"

Right in the middle of `something important', the
twenty year old, half jokes-half condemns.

"Birdy?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"Dammit! Right in the middle of my nightly massage!"

Michael smiled, then returned to the serious nature of
the call.

"Listen, Chad. I haven't got your dad's phone number,
but I think this could be important."

"Go ahead."

On the other end, Chad does a push up, Matty's creamy
hand sliding down his unblemished shoulder blades.

"Kevin Spangler picked up this young hitchhiker, maybe
sixteen or seventeen. He says his name's Pete, but I'm
not so sure if he's being truthful with Kevin."

"Oh?"

"If I'm not mistaken, I believe he's one of your
brothers."

"Are you sure? What would he be doing out on the road,
at this time of the night?"

Shrugging his shoulders, even though no one could see,
Michael replies, "I dunno. I'm just reporting what
Kevin has found out."

"Hmmm... put Kevin on."

Kevin hears, through his cellphone, `What's up?',
apparently Matty's voice. Chad reiterates Michael's
message.

Matty responds, "Runaway?"

Picking up on Matty's response, Kevin tells Chad,
"Seems that way. Runanway, I'm thinking."

"Oh. Hi Kevin. So, what's up?"

"Nothing. Only what Michael told you, which I told
him."

This time, Michael can detect the scanning of his bod.
On the other end, Chad retells Matty the story.
"Tell him to keep him there."

Reciting Matty's thoughts to Kevin, Chad adds, "Don't
let him out of your sight, Kevin."

"Oh, I wouldn't, but hurry. He's a smart kid."

"Takes after me... bye."

Kevin folded up his cellphone, then relays the info to
Michael, "We've got to create a `stall'!"

%

It didn't take long for Connor and Jim to strip down,
Ron standing there watching the jocks unveil the
beauty of their teen bods. As the shirts came off, the
twenty-eight year old college professor's hand slipped
to his already naked crotch.

"Hands off, `slave'!" Jim barked to him.

"Yes, Sir," Ron replied.

"Hands behind your head!"

Connor says to his lover, "Hey, you're getting good at
this `master' stuff, you know that?"

"You think so, do you. Watch this!"

More a game than the actual master/submissive role,
Jim conjures up an order, to impress him lover.
"Slave, get over here and strip down Connor!"

"Right away, Sir!"

A delight for all, Ron, the hairy college professor,
standing in front of the eighteen year old high school
senior, readying to unfasten his leather belt, then
prepare him for their three-way romp in the bed.
"On your knees slave!"

"Cool!" Connor calls out.

Looking at the hairy-chested slave, falling to his
knees, he looks over to `the master'. Not only is his
own pants feeling the expansion, but his lover's
zipper area begins tenting, coaxed by a rubbing hand.
"I can't wait to get my lips on that!" Connor
announces.

"You're going to be sharing, don't forget? Isn't that
right, Slaveboy?"

"Um... Yes, sir."

Ron, on the other hand, eyeing up the bulging briefs,
as he separates the flaps of Connor's jeans, licks his
lips.

"Can't he suck my cock while I'm sucking your's?"

Looking at Connor, Jim replies, "That could work!"

Jim than gets a devious idea.

"No, slaveboy. Hands behind your back. Use your
mouth!"

"Oh cool!"

Connor gets excited, as his jeans lay at his ankles,
his briefs yet to be lowered. On the other side of the
coin, Ron puts his hands behind his back, one hand in
the other. Sitting tall, the stance Maury has taught
him, he crooks his neck, mouth headed towards it's
target, the elastic of Connor's briefs. Jim hasn't
waited to be serviced, more into watching the action,
unbuckling his own belt, depantsing himself, peeling
his own briefs.

"This is so fucking hot!"

At Jim's comment, Ron takes a look behind him.

"You want my big cock, don't you slaveboy?"

Connor blurts out, "What about mine?"

A wicked idea stokes Jim's imagination.

"Why, there's enough here for two slaveboys!"

"Hell yeah!" Connor yells out, falling to his knees.

In no time, Ron, keeping his hands clasped behind his
back, shuffles around on his knees, to face Jim.
Connor sinks to his knees, accidentally bowling Ron
over.

"Oops!"

"Greedy are we?" Jim asks.

"Hey," Connor then states, "when it comes to a hot
cock, it's every man for themselves!"

Before Ron can upright himself, Connor has his lips
around Jim's stalk, inserted up to his balls.

"Well? What are you waiting for slaveboy?"

Getting in there, Ron nuzzles underneath the eighteen
year old jock's `taken' cock and begins licking his
teen balls. Connor pulls out, when Ron gets `in the
way'.

"Look," Connor directs to Ron, "there's not enough
here for both of us, so get on my cock!"

"Who's good at dishing out the orders?" Jim says.

Then, remembering his place, alongside Ron, as a
slaveboy, Connor says to Jim, "That okay?"

Laughing Jim sets the roleplay straight, telling his
lover Conner has control over the slaveboy, he himself
control his `special' slave!

%

By the time Berk had assembled a small platoon of
police officers, half the neighborhood knew about Mark
Barr's disappearance. Steve and Barry, out on their
front lawn, taked with Berk and Riley Sanchez, from
the WRPD.

First, Alonzo showed up, offering help, so he was sent
in, to help Max with `crowd control'.

"We heard about Mark, Barry. Anything we can do?"

Then their neighbors, down the road showed next.
Beside the two dads, stood eleven year old Caleb
Kendall-Johnson.

"Yeah, we want to help find Aidan and Philip's
brother!"

Steve smiled, bending to one knee, saying, "That's
very nice of you, Caleb, but it's kind of chilly for a
little guy to be out in this weather."

Greg Kendall asks, "Can we sit with your boys, while
you two attend to the search?"

"Thanks, but our backyard neighbor offered."

"Anytime you need the same favor, we're available to
help," his partner, thirty-three year old Mark Johnson
replied.

Steve adds, "Our cook, Max is there to help, but the
boys are sort of in the panic mode."

Mark Johnson suggests of his partner, "Greg is a
shrink, if that helps."

Sensing they help, reaching out, Barry replies, "It
might be a good idea. Steve, why don't you show them
the way?"

"Sure."

However, before they make it around the curvy
flagstone walkway, one of the boys comes running out,
a  trail of troops following.

"Dad! Dad!" Mark's brother, Tom comes yelling, phone
in hand.

Eric shouts, "It's Chad! They found Mark!"

The squirts, as excited as the others, trailing with
Max in their dust, exclaim the same.

"Mark's at the bird's place!"

"Bird's place?" Steve questions.

Tom, correcting Philip, says, "Birdy's cafe."

Almost ripping the phone out of Tom's hand, Barry
takes command of the communication device.

"Chad?"

Relaying the information, Barry hangs up real quick,
eager to get over to Birdy's.

"I'm coming," Denis more orders than suggests.

Officer Riley Sanchez, not a strict follower of rules,
but always seemingly gets away with it, offers
limousine service, sirens fully blasting.

"Kevin Spangler picked him up," Barry relays the
information.

"Well thank God it wasn't a stranger," Steve says.

"Dad," Denis meekly asks, "what do I say to him?"

"What does your heart tell you, son?"

"I.... I love my brother and all, but I'm not sure if
it's the way Mark feels it for me."

"Not sure?" Barry asks.

"Are you having doubts about what you told us
earlier?" Steve questions their teenaged son.
"I got to thinking..."

Steve looks to Barry, smiling.

"Well, in the two years I've know Mark, of it, maybe
I've known him, really have got to know him in about a
year of those two."

"Oh?" Barry stirs up the conversation, meaning to
provoke.

"Yeah. I think Mark's a really good looking guy and
we've had some..." Denis pauses on the subject, not a
comfortable conversation piece between fathers and
son, "some good feelings, in bed," he tries putting it
gently, "but more than `that', we like doing the same
stuff together."

"Then it's a sure-fire thing you two are meant to
shack up together!"

Barry replies, "Riley, do you mind keeping your
thoughts to yourself?"

"Yeah, okay. Just trying to help the kid out!"

It's rarely anyone goes against Riley Sanchez. He
promotes the feeling of `he is right and not to say
anything to dispute it', but there are some who aren't
afraid to share the same aspect.

"Go on Denis," Barry tells him.

"I love Mark like I love my other brothers, but I
don't know if I `love' love him. Know what I mean?"

Steve shares, "Like your father pointed out," talking
about Barry's response earlier, "you can't force
yourself to love somebody. It has to come freely from
within," Steve places his palm over his left pec.
"Your dad's right," Barry adds. "It takes time to fall
in love."

"That's not how it happened with you two!"

Denis had something there. Almost immediately, two
years ago, Bernice Bridges, introducing Barry to
Steve, jogging up the neighborhood road, apparently
sensed they were destined to be together.

"I'm not going to dispute it," Barry explained, "there
are rare instances when two people meet for the first
time and have this sense of wanting to be together, a
stronger persistance, than having to wait it out to
see what develops."

"Do you think Mark is like that?"

"Did you feel a special connection when you two met?"

"Not really. I thought Mark was an okay guy. I figured
he thought the same about me."

A pause developed, Denis thinking back to the first
time he met Mark, having to share their home with the
Barr boys. He thought of the whole summer, a year ago,
they rode their bikes all around the neighborhood,
taking their first long trip, almost all day, up the
road to the county line. His thoughts brought back the
memory of how they had to call their dads to come and
get them, it getting too dark to ride all the way
home. More afraid than Mark, he welcomed the arm
around his shoulders, the talk from his step-bro,
calming him, telling him they would be soon `rescued'.
He knew Mark cared, but wasn't precise about his
feelings in return.

"I think I'll have to think more about it."

"Sounds like a good idea," Steve replied, giving Denis
a hug, as he sat between the two dads.

With Birdy's Cafe in the distance, Denis once again
dove into the panic mode.

"But what do I say to him now?"

"Do you love your brother?"

"I just said so, but..."

"Then give him a damn hug and tell him!"

Steve and Barry thought Riley had a good answer.

"Is that what I should do?"

Denis needed the go ahead from his dads.

"Sound advice, I'd say," Steve replied.

"I'd say so myself." Barry agreed, "For now I think
your brother needs to know you love him, no matter
what it is taken as."

"I `do' love him."

Riley made it to Birdy's Cafe, running every stop sign
and red light, the priveleged few who had access to
breaking the law, legally. Calming the siren, at the
corner, turning left onto the small street behind
Birdy's, commonly known as Birdy's Road, the police
cruiser make two more quick turns, pulling into the
parking lot.

"Geesh, Reilly, I'm glad I don't have to ride with you
everyday!"

Steve added to his partner's comments, "Where'd you
get your license? Nascar?"

"Get out before I arrest you for assaulting an
officer!"

The dads thanked him, then hustled along, this time in
Denis' trail. As hurried as Denis was to find his
brother, when his hand touched the door handle, he
froze.

"What's the matter son?"

Turning to Barry, Denis replied, "I'm still not sure
about all of this."

"Go on faith. Remember, love conquers all," Steve
added.

Under his breath, as Barry held the door, allowing
their eighteen year old son enter, he mumbles to
Steve, "And I thought you slept during the sermons!"

He joked back, "I thought that was you snoring,"
poking Barry in the ribs.

Slowly, as Denis walked over to the circular, wooden
table, where Mark was parked, Kevin and Michael picked
up their mugs and retreated. Approaching the dads,
they thanked Kevin, giving him hugs.

"What am I? Chopped liver?"

It was Michael's way of expressing the lack of
affection from the dads.

Saving the dads, Kevin suggests, "How about opening up
your bar for something stronger?"

"Yeah. Sure."

The two disappeared into the adjoining room. Barry and
Steve approached Mark and Denis, sitting next to each
other.

"I wanted to tell you that... "

Then Denis turned to the dads, saying, "Um, this is
kind private?"

The dads took the hint.

"Why don't we go see what Kev and Birdy are up to?"
Barry suggests.

Watching, his gaze following the dads, he waited til
invisible from his sight.

"First of all, I'm sorry I made you run away."

"Yeah, okay," Mark replied, still with the glum
attitude.

"Mark," Denis took the big step, looking at each dad,
as they sat at the round table, "I want to tell you
I... I kind of love you."

"No you don't."

"Yeah, I do really. I kind of liked you when I first
saw you." Then, matter-of-factly Denis adds, "I
thought of you as kind of hot!"

"Me?"

"Yeah. Plus, you had on these cool jeans."

"I've had them a year. Hadn't washed them for two
weeks," Mark replied.

"I thought you looked cool in them and maybe you could
be a cool guy."

Then nobody could stop Denis, as he told Mark he
thought he could be a `cool friend', but it turned out
he was `cooler than cool' and at some point, during
their summer bicycle ride, taking them further than
they wanted to go, it became the `coolest' when Mark
had his arm around him.

"So?" Mark said, to all of the five minutes of
jabbering.

"Damn," Denis replied, apparently frustrating all his
efforts.

Slumped in his chair, his chin flopped onto his chest.
His eyes became mistly. Then Denis did something he's
not done in years. Cried. He also began talking in the
manner he and Mark would communicate when the dads
weren't around, another reason he was glad they
weren't around!
"I got so fuckin' scared when they said you ran away,
Mark."

Mark sat there, looking at Denis, himself on the verge
of a breakdown.

"After hearing about other guys that runaway, I got so
damned scared that...that...something would happen to
you." Breaking out into a fullscale assault of tears,
Denis yells, "Well fuckin' say something!"
Instead of words, Mark pushed his chair back, turned
it slightly towards Denis. All it took was a few
seconds and the two, with the new magnetism, drifted
into each other's arms.

%

"How was he?"

There, at the door to their room, stood Maury Passat
and his lover, Ricardo, fully unveiled.
"Don't you know how to fuckin' knock?" Jim joked.

"My house."

"Not your bedroom though, so fuckin' knock next time?"

"I'll think about it. So, how did our slaveboy do?"

Flanked on both sides, as Jim lay in the bed, his arm
cuddled Jim in his arms. The twenty-eight year old lay
there, but more to himself.

"He's a good rimmer," Connor elicits.

"Really? So, it's the bottom turned top, I see?"

"Oh no," Connor reflected on, "Ron rimmed me, as I
sucked Jim."

Then, directing to Ron, Maury asks, "So, how did you
like it?"

"Well," Ron spoke mild-manneredly, "I didn't get to
taste Jim's cock, but his balls tasted mightly good."

"Oh what a shame. You didn't get to taste his cream,
eh?"

"No, but I thought Connor's jizz tasted might creamy
and good."

"Yeah," Connor filled Maury and Ricardo in,  "jim
allowed us to 6-9, while he stroked off his second
load and ... hey wait a minute," he recalls, "it's not
true you didn't taste Jim's jizz. You helped me clean
up his stomach and pubes."

Maury went to say something, but Connor commanded the
conversation at this point.

"Oh yeah," Ron fessed up, "I forgot about that."

"Forgot about lapping up my creamy goo?" Jim accused.

"Now I remember!"

Conner, sitting up, as well as Ron, commented, giving
out compliments for each other.

"Yeah, and when we tried to induce Jim into shooting
his third load, Ron did such a good job making Jim's
balls boil!"

Maury giggled, inciting Ricardo to do the same.

"Hell yeah!" Jim added, "Ron's sure got a hot tongue.
Shit! Added to his," Connor's, "hot cocksucking
technique, they had me blasting a third load."

Connor made sure he'd stated, "But we both kind of
agreed only my ass gets the benefit of Jim's shaft,
fucking me!"

"But," Maury pointed out, finger extended, making an
enunciated point, "there's no reason why `your'
shaft," he pointed then to Connor, "can't be shoved up
`his' ass?"

"That's right," Connor says to Jim, astounded. "Why
didn't we think of that?"

"Because you're not a top, dah?" Jim reverberates the
idea.

"Oh yeah, but...."

"Hmmm, so you think you could enjoy Ron again, eh?"
Maury asks, all smiles.

Feeling neglected, Ricardo joins in, "But what about
my needs?"

The teens, along with Ron, badger Maury with,
`ooooohs' of exclamation.

"And what's wrong with my fuck-toy?"

"Nothing."

Like has happened before, Ricardo's `alpha' side kicks
in.

"It's just `you'," his finger pounds on Maury's hairy
chest, dead-center, "promised me Ron could sleep with
us!"

All forced with smiled, he states, "Hee hee... did I
say that, sweetheart?"

Jim whispers to Connor, Ron overhearing, "Hmm... who
rules the roost in that relationship?"

While Maury and Ricardo take up with their
conversation, Ron asks, "May I say something?"

"Sure," Jim replies, "we don't go for all that
master-slave stuff all the time. What's up?"

"I wanted to tell you I had a great time with you too.
Other than you two, I've only had sex with Maury and
Ricardo."

"Really?" Connor asks. "News to us. I mean about
Ricardo."


"Yeah," Jim adds, "we figured Maury, okay, but...."

"Yes. Ricardo can be real sweet."

"Are you talking orally or anally?" Connor jokes.

Bringing out the laughter in the three, Maury breaks
off his heated conversation with Ricardo.

"Hey, boy, who told you that you can laugh?"

"Um, my master?" Ron replies, bravely.

"You're losing it, Maury!"

"I am `not' losing it!"

Ricardo keeps up the badgering.

"See what happens when you `share' too much?"

"I want my slaveboy back. Ron, come here!"

"No fuckin' way, Maury. You gave him to us!" Jim plays
on Maury's authority.

"Now what am I supposed to do?" Maury asks Ricardo.

"Easy," Ricardo replies, whimsically, "get us another
one?"

"Hmm... sounds good."

With that, the door closed, another solved problem, in
the life of Maury Passat.

"So, now that we've got him, what do we do with him?"

Ron replies to Connor, "Use me of course."

"Do you like being used? I mean," Jim questions the
twenty-eight year old, "roleplaying is okay, but in
between roleplaying and real life, what are you
looking for?"

"A guy to love me."

Connor jumps in with, "So why do you have to make it
feel like being used?"

"The way I had it explained to me is from my
`childhood'."

"Way back then?"

"I'm twenty-eight years old. My childhood ended when I
started college, ten years ago. It's not a lot of
time."

"What happened?" Jim asked, curious.

Lying out in between, Connor lay down, real close to
Jim, his smooth chest next to Jim's right pec, snuggly
in his armpit, his teen treasure trail butt up against
Jim's torso. Ron, slowly as he explained getting
bullied and other sorts of treatment, lay down. At
some point, he turned on his side, facing Jim, propped
up on his right elbow. Without thinking, his hand had
landed on the top of Jim's thigh. Oh, Jim took notice
alright, but didn't make it obvious. Soon he was
feeling mighty good, with two busy hands, one rubbing
his thigh, Connor's hand fondling his orbs.

"So you got used to those thugs you talked about,
punching you in the stomach and doing other stuff to
you?"

"Exactly."

Connor added the question to Jim's, "And you didn't
tell anybody?"

"Sure I did, but after a couple of times and nobody
doing anything about it, well what can a fifteen year
old do? I felt helpless, with nobody to come to bat
for me. I gave up and just took it and I suppose
that's why I'm... like this..."

"We didn't tell you what happened to Connor and
probably you haven't read about it."

"Probably not. If it didn't happen within the last six
month's most likely not. It's when I moved here."

"Oh, then you wouldn't have heard about it," Jim
replied, looking at Connor. He then asked his teen
lover, "You okay with talking about it?"

"I'm fine with it... I suppose," Connor shrugged his
shoulders.

"Are you sure?"

Turning his head towards his eighteen year old lover,
Jim pulls him in for a tender kiss, embellishing on
his already caring manner of speaking.

"I'm sure."

After Jim keels back, onto the mattress, Ron says,
"You two really are in love, huh?"

"Yeah," Jim replies for both.

Conner nods in the affirmative.

"How lucky you two are."

"Yeah, we are."

"So, what happened to you? Was it something that
brought you together?"

"Sort of friends before it happened," Conner reports,
"but what happened to me kind of solidified it."

"Yeah," Jim adds, "I kind of had the thoughts we
should.. no would always be together, but what
happened to Conner, made it more realistic."

"Tell him, Jim," Conner passed on the task.

"Okay."

Then, turning his smooth bod towards dark, hairy
chest, the tight trail running down his stomach, he
lay out the foundation for the story, which took over
ten minutes to tell. He told, from what Connor told
him, plus the final police report, reviewed by himself
and his lover, of the homophobic attack, the beating,
leaving Connor unconscious, the whipping. All along,
Connor nestled his body close to his lover. A couple
of times, Jim asked him if he was alright. Connor
replied he was okay with it. Ron kept shaking his
head, telling them he could relate to this and that.

"I know how it could feel. Well, I can't tell how
`you' felt, but I know the feeling of getting whipped
on my back, bare, with a leather belt. At the time, it
was very painful, physically and emotionally, not as
pleasure."

Connor contested Ron's feelings, stating, "Not that
we've tried it, but I wouldn't want to be whipped
again."

"With Maury, it became a `need'. It gets my endorphins
going. Yeah," Ron lay back thinking about it, "getting
whipped is part of a normal thing for me."

"It's something I'd never be able to do to a guy," Jim
frankly said.

Putting it more into perspective, Ron says, "If it
feels very good to a guy, to feel the pain, frankly
making me feel very good sexually, making my cock
leak, don't you think you would be doing a guy a
service, Jim?"

"Hmm... I never thought of it like that, but still I'm
not sure."

Connor adds, "I know I couldn't go through with it. I
wouldn't be able to watch it either, so if you two
want to do it, count me out."

"Me? Whip Ron?"

Ron added, "I wasn't suggesting it."

"Oh. I thought that's what you were driving at, Ron."

"Not at all. I was relating the experience. That's
all."

"We're no strangers to things Maury does, but for
myself doing it, I don't know."

"That's okay. I really had a great time servicing you
two guys, but mind if I split?"

"Not until we get our hug!" Jim replies, smiling.
%
Walking into Birdy's backroom, the off hours pub,
Barry and Steve found Kevin and Michael having a
rip-roaring, good time. As the minutes ticked by, it
had become obvious they were developing a close
`friendship'.

"Well, I think we've given the boys enough time to
settle their differences."

Kevin adds, "A warning, they might not be fully talked
out."

"Oh, I don't doubt that, Kev, but thanks for the
advice."

"Yeah," Michael Byrd confides, "it took years for my
dad and I..." then he closed up, "never mind."

Leaving at that, Steve and Barry departed company.

"So, you and your dad didn't get along?"

"No. Forget about it."

Being blunt about the closing of the subject, Kevin
invented a new one.

"Nice pub you've got here. I don't think I've ever
been in it. But," he takes the empty glass from
Michael's hand, "I think you need a refill. Let me
make you up something more potent?"
As Michael watched, Kevin went to business, popping
caps, pouring, shaking, clinking bottles. He uplifting
the cafe owner's spirits, tossing a bottle, sending it
round and round, top to bottom-over to top, uncapped,
not spilling one drop.

"How did you learn all those fancy tricks?"

"Bartended with a pro one summer, at the country club.
He had been tipping bottles for over fifty years,
staring out when he was fifteen."

"Really? Where?"

"New Orleans. He came north after the hurricane wiped
his bar out, then drifted west to California. I was
damn fortunate to make his acquaintance. There.... try
that. It's a special Willie taught me to make that
ain't in any recipe book!"

Kevin poured one for himself. After a few sips, they
kind of got loco. Even though Kevin played along the
part of a straight guy, Michael, with a low tolerance
for a strong drink, didn't let it cross his mind.
"You know you've got beautiful eyes?"

Lighting up, like fireworks, feeling the energy, Kevin
felt such excitement when Michael brought it up.
"If that a fact?"

It had been slightly inactive, but as Michael's secret
became public, Kevin's balls became active, his cock
throbbing.

"Yeah," he continued his stare.

Never having even thought of coming on to a man, being
newly out, it had to be `the influence' irking him on
so boldly.

"I think you're fuckin' sexy!"

That's all Michael needed to hear. Placing his hand
behind Kevin's head, he leaned forward, at the same
moment flexing his arm, bringing the man next to him
into his face. Only the second man to ever kiss him,
the first time not really counting, since he had been
fourteen and it had been on the cheek, Kevin slid off
his barstool, his arms flopped to the sides, as
Michael's engulfed the man, like wildfire out of
control. With lips still glued to Kevin's, the
thirty-one year old reached down, picking up Kevin's
lifeless limbs and placing them on his own torso. With
coercion, to follow his suggestions, Michael fully
embraced Kevin, rubbing up and down his back, not
breaking the man-to-man oral fixation. Breaking,
Michael had to literally keep Kevin from falling
backwards.

"Ain't never been kissed like that!" Came Kevin's
reaction.

"I'd like to do more than that with you!"

Turning to the bar, Michael took the decanter, half
full and poured it out into the two glasses. Filling
Kevin's glass, he paid too much attention to the sexy
guy next to him.

"Heeeey! Watch it! Watch it!"

"Oops!"

Kevin went to shake the liquid off his hand. Instead,
Michael takes it and starts licking Kevin's hand.
"Hmm..."

Kevin could tell, not right now, but later, how much
alcohol he had in his system, when Michael told him it
was `he' suggesting they take this to more intimate
quarters!

%

Copyright 2006 T. Chase McPhee
This story may not be sold, nor made part of any
collection, without prior consent from the author.