Date: Thu, 7 Dec 2006 09:58:23 -0800 (PST)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: "NATURE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS" 01

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 CHRISTMAS 01
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

Since Alonzo and Callan's property, formerly Steve's
domain, in proximity, stood close to the old barn
almost adjoining the Clark-Barr residence with the
Romano-Meara plot. Pulling up in the driveway, they
proceeded to unload themselves, followed by the
lumber. Of course, the crunching wheels of the SUV,
alerted the inhabitants. Dodging under pieces of
lumber, inside the back corridor, the three backseat
passengers crawled out the side.

"I suppose they train you for tight squeezes like
that, huh Dave?" Steve asked.

After formulating the question, his mind drifted to an
alternate selection, regarding the tight squeeze.
Smiling back at Steve, Dave's mind lingered in the
same vein of the realm of questioning.

"I've had a lot `tighter' ones!"

Steve caught the reference, laughing, but in his mind,
wondered what size the battering ram!

"Oh, you don't have to help us unload Dave."

Barry hadn't caught on, not picking up on the cheeky
smile exchanged between his partner and new-found
friend.

"Yeah," Steve explained, as well, momentarily
forgetting about the close enchange of words, "we're
beholden to you for helping us pick out the best ones
and loading it in the truck."

"Oh and don't think I'm not going to call in that
favor of selecting the best `wood'!"

Steve caught on immediately.

Barry gave a faint smile, in return, slowly warming up
to Dave's humor, catching the sexual slur.

Dave seemed to read Barry's mind.

"Hee heee... don't worry. I don't mean in `that' way!
Oh no," he assured Barry, "they'll never accuse me of
a `homewrecker'!"

Barry then settled into the comfort of knowing Dave's
humor, a well-enjoyed joke, the three laughing it off,
until Alonzo and Callan show up.

"Our neighbors," Steve broke the ice, "Alonzo and
Callan. Fellas," he introduced "this is Dave Rosario."

By this time, Steve and Barry knew something about
Dave. When they met him hours ago he scanned them
better than a UPC label at a cash register. Dave
didn't let Barry and Steve down, eyeing them up, from
`top' to `bottom', Callan to Alonzo, choosing in his
own mind the positions each would serve between the
sheets.

"So, where's this barn?"

Dave broke his own spell of staring.

"Right up the path there and then to the right, a few
more steps straight. I think you can see a bit of the
roof from here," Dave's `top' proceeded to answer,
pointing in the direction of the old barn.

"Dark grayish, right?" Dave replied to Callan's
description.

"Good eyesight," Steve commented.

"Yeah, well not as good as it used to be."

It seemed like a strange comment, added with more a
serious manner.

Barry and Steve carried two pieces, on each end.

"What do you think Dave meant by his `eyesight'
comment?"

"You picked up on it too, huh Steve?"

"Yeah. Suddenly, he changed from a happy-go-lucky
spirit into this `serious guy'."

"Aside from the subject, he is a fun guy. But getting
back to the other matter, I'm not sure," Barry
responded, adjusting the timber on his shoulder.

"Where would you like......this?"

Dave's voice trailed off, when Berk, Max's lover,
appeared, barechested, little curly-Q's of wood
shavings, intermingled with his thick chest hair.

Barry leaned over, whispering in Dave's ear, "He's
taken."

"Rats!" Dave replied, in the humorous mode.

After the introductions, Berk directed the dads and
Dave in where to stash the lumber.

"Y'know I'm pretty good at carpentry myself?"

The hint was thrown to Steve and Barry's ballcourt.
However, someone else picked it up.

"Oooh would I like to help? Do you know how to use
this?"

Berk held up a hammer, smiling.

Taking it, Dave replied, "Just give me some nails and
tell me where to hammer!"

As Dave sideswiped Barry, Barry leans in, whispering,
"Um, don't forget to pay attention to the nail?"

Nicely, Dave thanked him for the advice, grinning in
response to Barry's joke.

%

"First, the jacket goes."

As if royalty, Chad and Matty helped Bruce Ryder out
of his jacket. Not a huge duty for two, Matty started
on removing the agent's tie.

"The shirt?"

"But I always dress up to go out," Bruce protested,
thinking upon going out to the gay club, as if
dressing for his daily job.

Not adhering to the detail, Chad reached around Bruce,
hands going to work on his buttons.

"Oh-man-oh-man!"

Matty looked to Chad.

"Um, tell me Bruce?"

"Yes?"

"Have you ever `been' with a man?"

In the mirror he faced, Bruce smiled, his face turning
beet red.

"I figured so," Chad replied, getting down to his
beltline, tugging at is shirt.

If either Chad or Matty had been alone with Bruce,
their playing might have been constituted as cheating.
The fact of them being together, helping Bruce
discover his gay male sexuality, wasn't made more than
frivolous fun.

"What?" Bruce asked, looking in the mirror, then down,
as Chad slipped his hand inside the twenty-eight year
old's shirt.

"Ooooooh," Bruce groaned.

Matty figured Chad's flutter of his eyebrows, gave him
the go ahead to attack from the stern. Walking around
in front of Bruce, at the same time, Matty sunk to his
knees, hanging on Bruce's belt, eventually unfastening
it.

"Whaaa-what are you doing?"

"You trust us, don't you Brucie?" Chad asked, entirely
too close to his ear, in a sexy voice.

"Um," he gulped, "yeah, I guess so."

Being a government agent, Bruce has had some fine
training in the martial arts. Chad, both hands now
roaming at will, pinned his arms to his body. Some
fast arm work could have freed Bruce up minutes ago,
but instead he was resigned to letting `it' happen.

"Oh man Matty...you're not gonna..."

Folding back the flaps of Bruce's dress pants, Matty
smiled, seeing the reaction to Chad's body massage.

"Ooooooooooooooh!" Bruce cried out, arching his back
when Chad toyed with his nips.

"Feel good, Brucie?"

"Ooooh yeah. Man, does it ever!"

Then it became a game.

"Shall we work him over real good, Matty?"

"Hell yeah!"

Another signal from Chad, made all hell break loose.
Grabbing Bruce under the pits, Matty grabbed his legs,
lifting him right off of the floor.

"What tha...."

Bruce stare right up into Chad's face, looking at the
wide grin, then to his feet, to the smile
criss-crossing Matty's lips.

"Brucie baby, you're just about ready to have your
first `man-encounter'."

"Yeah," Matty seconded it, "Give the word and we'll
stop!"

Bruce's shirt, even though wide open, exposing his
dark, brown-haired chest, the hair line stopping right
under his pecs, as if painted, closed up to a
half-inch wide trail, extending down his stomach, to
his navel, swirling around, diving under the elastic
of his tighty-whities.

"Remember when we said we were going to give you a
makeover Brucie?"

"Yeah?"

Chad continues, "Well, we can't take you out to a gay
boy's club without you knowing how to act properly."

Fishing for words, Brucie gulped, replying, "Gee,
thanks guys!"

Another gulp gave the pair a matter of uncertainty
from Bruce.

"Hell, Chad, he's really packin'!"

It's obvious Bruce hadn't a clue to what Matty
referred to. Not until he unveiled the reason for
tenting his briefs.

"Oh shit, Brucie," Matty exclaimed, "you've gotta be
at least a ten!"

"Ten?" Bruce replied, in earnest.

"Inches," Matty said, on cue.

With his shoes and socks out of the way, Matty grabbed
hold of the cuffs of Bruce's pants and gave a hefty
tug. Coins jingled, falling out of the pockets.

"Looks like Brucie's trying to buy us off, Chad!"

Then Matty made another startling discovery. Chad was
bare naked.

"Shit! When did you get ahead of me?"

"While you picked up pennies?"

It took the edge off, Bruce laughing, even though his
nerves had himself sweating bullets. The only article
of clothing left to strip, were Bruce's
tightey-whitey's, left anchored under his XL balls,
left there by Matty.

"You better hurry up boy!" Chad called out to his
mate.

Without further ado, Matty was sent into stripping
mode. Already, kneeling, his right knee to the top of
Bruce's shoulder, Chad's nine inch tool played on the
twenty-eight year old's shoulder.

"Want a taste?" Chad teased.

"I don't know."

"Never tasted a man's cock before?"

After a gulp, Bruce replied, "Um, no."

Of course, Chad and Matty already knew the answer, but
the provocation helped build the scene.

"Y'know Chad?"

"What?"

"I have this really weird feeling.... Bruce could
be... a top?"

"Then what are we waiting for? Get up Bruce!"

His hand on Bruce's arm, Chad helped him up from the
bed. Either it was a ploy, on Matty's behalf to work
over two guys with his mouth or he had an honest
revelation, resulting in the same!

"What do I do?" Bruce stood there at the opposite side
of the bed, Matty in the middle.

"Follow my lead. If you expect to pick up guys, you
gotta know how to lead them on."

"Pick up guys? Like tonight?"

"Could happen."

"I'm not sure about this."

"Of course you're not," Matty tells him, "but take it
from me. Chad's good at tricking guys into following
him home!"

"When I get this up your ass, you're gonna regret
saying that!" Chad badgered Matty.

"You... you're gonna fuck him?"

Chad and Matty look at each other and burst out
laughing. Over the course of the next hour or so, Chad
instructed Bruce on how to tease a bottom, telling
Bruce a bottom-boy, otherwise know as a `cum-slut'
needs to be teased, because he really needs to have a
cock to suck on.

"I'm not a cum-slut!" Matty protested, again part of
the plot to build up the delivery.

Chad pointed out all the ins and outs of sliding a
cock down a bottom-boy's throat.

"You're gonna stuff all of it down his throat?"

"Nope. He's going to swallow it on his own."

"In your dreams," Matty's recourse came swiftly.

"Well uh, some guys can get a cock down their throat.
Just because Matty can't get it down, I don't hold it
against him... except when I turn him over!"

"How does that go?"

"Whoa Brucie-baby. We're still on cocksucking 101!"

First Chad sat on Matty's chest, setting his cock on
his mates open mouth, tip of his tongue. After Matty
closed up, hands on his hips, Chad slowly pressed his
torso forwards.

"Ooooooh," he moaned, dropping his head backwards, as
if a cabinet hinge.

"Feels good, huh?"

"Nothing can compare.......except slipping it in his
chute."

"Chute?"

"Ass?"

"Oh yeah. Now I get the correlation."

Suddenly Chad pulls back, his cock making a grand
exit.

"Oooooooooh," Matty sighs.

"See what I mean, Brucie? Bottom-boys yearn to have
your shaft on their lips."

"I see."

"Your turn."

Chad could see the sweat pouring off Bruce, like
Niagra Falls.

"Hold on. I'll get you a towel."

After exiting the room, upon returning, he found
Bruce, sitting on Matty's chest, same position as
himself, his cock being massaged by Matty's lips.

"Well.. I'll be..."

"Couldn't wait, huh?"

"Yeah and you know what Chad?"

"What?"

"Would you believe Matty was begging me to put my cock
in his mouth?"

Sarcastically, Chad replies, "I find it `hard' to
believe."

"You're right Chad. Feels awesome."

As if the shoe on the other foot, Bruce acted as if he
was the instructor, giving a play by play account.

"Feels so good when Matty's tongue is swirling around
my cock, you know?"

"Really?" Chad asked, dabbing Bruce's shoulder with
the towel.

After he dabbed the left shoulder, he put his face
real close to Bruce's and almost next to his ear,
kissing him.

"Oh man! That sent chills up and down my spine."

"Oh yeah. Let's see what this does!"

His hand on the side of Bruce's face, Chad turns his
lips to his. Controlling the agent's head, he kisses
him hard, pressing his tongue inside.

Breaking free, Bruce replies, "Wooooow. Can we do that
some more?"

Getting up, Chad says, "No. Time to go get you hooked
up!"

Of course, Matty groaned, in displeasure, when Chad
ripped Bruce's cock out of his mouth. Taking Bruce
into their walkin closet, he exited, with a look like
a down to earth gay boy, ready to party. On the way,
the two gave Bruce some more tips.

"As soon as we get on the dance floor, strip off your
tee shirt."

"Strip off my tee shirt? Why wear one?"

"It's sexy!"

In reality, Chad and Matty had no reason for doing it.
It was just `done'. Chad left Matty's answer alone.

"What do I do with it?"

"Stick it down the back of your pants."

"Down my pants. Wouldn't that make it look like I got
a big ass?"

"Not the whole shirt, doofus!" Chad condemned him.
"Show him Matty."

"What do you mean show him?"

"Take your shirt off and show him, doofus!"

Riding in the back, Bruce looked in between the seat
of the SUV. Matty stripped it like he's done millions
of times before. Then, taking the collar, stuck it in
between his bare bod and belt.

"Oooooh I get it. So it's hanging out."

"Great. Now my shirt's all wrinkled."

"Like you're going to have it on long enough for guys
to know it, dimwit?"

"I guess," Matty replied to Chad's innocent banter.

"I hope someday I meet a guy like one of you."

"Well, don't take the first guy promising you love and
more."

"Yeah," Chad says, "chances are his only goal is to
get you bedded."

"Oh? How's that go?"

Chad looks at Matty, with an instant memory, until
their arrival at Mr. Pink's. The parking lot was a
zoo.

"I wonder what's happening tonight?"

"I dunno."

"Is it always this crowded?"

"Only when..... oh cool. You lucked out, Brucie!"

"What?" Bruce inquires.

"They must have a guest star. C'mon."

Ripping around the corner, up the street, they take
the first curbside parking space available,
hightailing it back to Mr. Pink's. Only problem,
there's a long line.

"Bummer!" Matty chides.

"Too bad you don't have your FBI badge," Chad quips.

"Yeah," Matty agrees. "Betcha they would whiz us right
ahead of the.... geez, there's gotta be a hundred
people on line."

Sadly, Chad admits, "We'll be lucky if we get in an
hour before closing."

As if the man with `S' on his chest, Bruce whips out
his credit card sized badge.
"Ta-daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"

"Cool!" Chad calls out.

The glee returns. As summised, walking right up to the
door guard, Bruce's ID got the three in with no sweat.
Of course, with the promise of Bruce taking the
security guards number and promising to call!

"That was easy."

"What?" Bruce called out.

Learning directly into Bruce's ear, Chad yells,
"That," looking down at the scrap of paper with seven
digits inscribed.

Bruce shook his head yes, looking back at the door.
Chad signaled `you like him'? Bruce smiled.

He then yelled in Bruce's ear, "Don't lose his
number!"

Bruce gestured putting it in with his badge.

Matty, already two guys ahead, reached back for
Bruce's arm, attached to Chad's. Bruce stood there,
gasping. Disco lights flashing, the three story high
ceiling made the place look humongous. He was
astounded, not being able to see an inch of flooring,
with wall-to-wall guys, most minus their shirts.

He said, "This is incredible," no one hearing him, not
even himself, his statement became an excited thought.

"Chad! Look!"

Not hearing, but getting the gist of it, Matty's arm,
straight up in the air, his finger pointing, gave
direction to the stage area. Chad's jaw dropped open,
seeing his most favorite of fav's, microphone in hand,
attached to an almost bare body, bopping to his latest
club hit, `Do It To Me One More Time'.

"I can't believe it's Javier Yacouba!"

As with Bruce, nobody could hear Chad's comment,
remaining a thought rather than proclaiming his
excitement at seeing the twenty-two year old, taking
time out to dance some steps he would never try!
Somewhere along the lines of trying to weed through
the sweaty, bare bodies, the chain got broken. Before
they even entered Mr. Pink's, due to Bruce's
expertise, an agent of Heartland Security, he devised
a plan, if they got split up, `hang' until the place
emptied out!

"Sorry," Chad apologized, mouthing the words over the
loud music of the Yacouba band.

Reaching out for what he thought was Bruce's arm, Chad
reeled in another guy, whom didn't mind his
`touching'. Quickly, enveloped by the crowd, he lost
sight of the guy. His sights on Javier Yacouba, he
butted his body up against a lot of guys, none of them
minding, since it had become passe for any guy moving
about the room. Knowing the back of Matty's head like
his hand, Chad tried catching up with him. For the
short trek, getting lost, moving around in opposite
circles, Matty had stripped his shirt, stuffing half
down the back of his pants. To call his attention, he
grabbed the shirt tale, giving a hefty pull.
Surprised, Matty turned around, softening his stare
when he realized it was his other half.

"C'mon...ditch the shirt!"

"What?" Chad yelled back.

Action become louder than words, as Matty tore Chad's
tee shirt off, over his head.

In response, Chad signaled, "Oh," acknowledging the
last message.

Hand in hand the two wove through the crowd, gaining
the closest distance to the stage.

"I wonder what happened to Bruce?"

Still nothing could be heard, the giant speakers
blasting their ears. Chad resigned to mouthing out,
`Brucie?'

Matty replied with shrugging shoulders. Suddenly, the
twenty year old got a tap on the shoulder. It didn't
come from behind, but in front. Chad couldn't believe
Javier Yacouba touched him on his bare shoulder!

"He wants you to dance with him!"

"What?" Chad asked Matty, horrified.

Before the words could be formulated into coherence,
three guys literally picked Chad up and tossed him
onstage. Immediately, two of Javier's dancing boys,
part of the Yacouba ensemble, showed Chad the moves.
Matty laughed, watching his lover trying to compete,
given less than a minute of lessons. From the stage
however, Chad could look out, over the crowd. On the
other side of the expansive staging area, he spotted
Bruce. He got a wicked idea. Instead of making a total
fool out of himself, why didn't he let somebody else!
Slowly, he made his way crossing the stage, passing in
between the dancing boys, which numbered about ten. As
if on cue, when Javier sung the words, `Gonna do you',
one of the guys grabbed Chad's arm and swung him
around, coming chest-to-chest with him.

"Oh shit!" Chad called out.

Only Javier Yacouba, lead man out, caught the remark.
Taking Chad into his arms, snuggly fitting them around
him, the crowd went totally wild, their cheers heard
above the music, when Javier pressed Chad's lips
against his own. Still dancing, of which Chad had
slacked off, Javier ground his hips against his dance
partner.

"Wow!"

Not even thinking about the lewd act on stage, Yacouba
grinding his hard, obvious erection into Chad's pubes,
Javier sported a huge grin. Figuring it's the last
he'd ever see of the twenty-two year old club singer,
Chad did the same back. From his favorite singer, Chad
got the thumbs up, along with a high five. He almost
forgot about Bruce. Reaching down, as if asking for a
hand off the stage, Chad hefts Bruce, the six
foot-one, lanky male, up to the stage. Almost the only
guy with a tee shirt on, the dancing boys relieved him
of it in a hurry, literally tearing it to shreds. All
Bruce could think of is having to pay for the damaged
article of clothing, as the roaring crowd, it
continued to psyche up the moment. Yacouba's dancing
boys soon made him forget, trying to teach him the
steps. Unlike Chad, Bruce picked up the steps right
away, as if he's known them all his life! In the mean
time, Chad pushed his way along the stage til he came
to Matty. All his lover could do is shake his head, as
if it had been Chad who initiated the lewd behavior.
Of course Chad protested. By the time Bruce reached
Javier Yacouba, he had picked up the routine almost
perfectly. At six feet tall, he came an inch above
Javier's height, making him an ideal dancing partner.
Yacouba, the band, dancing boys and Javier himself,
kept up singing his hottest hit for at least thirty
minutes, before the tempo changed.

"Your good!" Javier shouted into Bruce's ear.

Bruce picked up a little he said, but mostly he still
couldn't hear. Grabbing Bruce's arm, the twenty-two
year old singer, dragged him off stage, while the band
and dancing boys filled in for him.

"Wow! What a difference," Bruce remarked.

Behind the band, the lights, humongous speakers, the
sound level dropped dramatically.

"What's your name?" Javier asked, almost immediately.

"Me? Bruce Ryder." Being his first time in a club,
nervous, he asked, "What's yours?"

"Are you for real?"

Smiling, Bruce nodded his head up and down, shrugging
his shoulders. Javier smiled back.

Mentioning his name, "Javier Yacouba," he grabbed
Bruce's torso.

Reeling him in extremely close, so close, like Chad,
Bruce could not miss feeling Javier's erected shaft.
Behind Bruce's back, the French-Latino, ran his palms
upwards and down, as he kissed Bruce's lips. Quickly,
as if conjuring up a spell, Bruce tried to remember
`the tricks' Matty and Chad showed him. One of them,
Chad had presented it, he stuck his tongue out,
pressing it beyond Javier's lips. Breaking off, Javier
stood there, his body dripping with sweat, the light
covering of dark chest hair looking as if exiting the
shower. A smile was pasted across his face. He nodded
his head up and down slightly, trying to pass on a
message. He looked down, scanning Bruce's bod.
Touching his own tanned bod, Bruce's whiter tone
clashed, but it wasn't the detail Javier looked at.
Instead, starting from between them, the belted area,
he took notice of the thin, almost delicate path from
his waist to navel. Above, the trail widened some,
leading up to his pecs, robust with a fanning out of
light hair, overlaying his chest.

"You approve?" Came the slight remark from Bruce's
lips, catching on quick to the `boy-lingo'.

The nod became more pronounced, as Javier nodded more
profusely.

"I.. um, like yours too!"

Breaking the exchange of glances, one of Yacouba's
dancing boys struts backstage, yelling, "Fuck, Jav,
are you going to take a break all night?"

In a stern manner, Javier yells back, "Don't talk like
that in front of my friend!"

"Sorry," the dancer replies, his body still in the
rhythm of the beat.

"C'mon, Jav... the next song is coming on... the guys
want to see you on stage!"

Seeing a permanent marker lying on the floor, probably
left behind by one of the stage setup guys, Javier
picks it up. Taking off his pants, he writes his cell
number right on the fabric.

"A little souvenir for you?"

Even though Bruce, other than the dance classes he's
had through his teenage years, hasn't followed the
club scene, mostly taking in jazz and classical music,
with a little rock of the 90's. He didn't realize what
a souvenir he had in his hand, until he stepped down
the backsteps of the stage in Mr. Pink's.

"Oh man," one of the makeup people exclaimed, "you
have got to be one special guy to Jav, for him to
strip off his own pants for you? Treasure it, man!"

More his age, twenty-eight, Bruce developed a little
conversation with the makeup artist, introduced as
`Claudio'.

"Does he have a boyfriend?" Bruce straight-forwardly
inquires.

"You're kidding, right?"

"No. Why?"

"Jav's too busy, let alone develop a relationship with
a guy."

"Then why did he give me his number?"

"Number? Where?"

Bruce unfolds the pants. Sure enough, in black
numbers, written down the pants leg, is Javier
Yacouba's personal cellphone number, underneath,
reading, `call me', then his signature.

"Wow! You `are' a lucky guy!"

"How so?"

"You haven't heard the rumors of his retirement from
the club circuit?"

"Retirement? He can't be older than me?"

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-eight. You?"

It came as a habit, returning the question, not being
Bruce wanting to know.

"Over the hill. Thirty-one!"

Claudio laughed, Bruce didn't laugh, instead making
himself chuckle, to go along.

"That's not really old."

"I've had my shot at love."

More interested in Javier, Bruce transgressed back to
the original subject.

"And Javier?"

"In high school, I know he had a buddy, but I wouldn't
term it a relationship. More a curious thing. You
know, two guys getting together, seeking out their gay
identity?"

Not acknowledging, being he didn't share the same
scenario, Bruce left it open, answered, "Okay and?"

"He's never been to college, so I know nothing's
happened on that level. No, Javier went right to the
top, out of high school."

"Sad," Bruce replied.

"How so?"

"To miss out on all those wonderful years of
maturing."

However, thinking about it, Bruce reckons he's done
the same. By hiding his sexual preference, he's kept
in the closet. Sure, he's eyed up a guy here and
there, but careful not to give himself away.

"True. So, what do you do, Bruce?"

"I'm in security."

Mistaking his career statement, Claudio asks, "A Wall
Street buffoon?"

"Not exactly." Rather than stand there, talking out
his whole life story, Bruce says, "I've got to get
back to my friends."

"A word of advice?"

"Yes?"

"Hang on to those pants..."

Bruce detects Claudio wanting to suggest something
else.

"In fact, wear them."

"Wear them? But I can't. Everyone will see Javier's
phone number."

"Hmm... Come backstage a minute."

Walking back out, from offstage, to onstage,
traversing the path between speakers, he passes by
Javier Yacouba, who had been reduced to sleek, black
lowrise briefs, showing off his line of pubic hair.
Right away, the crowd `knows' those jeans Bruce is
wearing, including his two friends.

"Damn! Bruce is wearing Javier Yacouba's pants!"

Chad states, "Looks like our shy FBI man scored big!"

However, where Javier's name appears down the pants
leg, little tears in the denim fabric obliterate it
here and there, making it unusable to anyone. In
response to Chad's thoughts, as he passes by, like at
the end of a tango, Javier whirls Bruce around, in
front of him, bends over, with him in his arms and
kisses him. The crowd goes wild. From here on in,
Bruce Ryder had gone from ordinary citizen-security
man, propelled into an icon of the entertainment
world, in the limelight of the club scene. At the
tender moment, which lasted all of two seconds, the
music jumping, dancing boys moving their bodies in
contorting shapes, it became obvious to Chad and
Matty, most likely Bruce wouldn't be coming home with
them tonight!

%

2B continued............

NATURE WALK - NATURE WALK CHRISTMAS -
NATURE COUNTRY -NATURE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS -

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