Date: Sat,  2 Jul 2005 18:34:25 -0400 (EDT)
From: T Chase <survivalgame@excite.com>
Subject: Nature Walk 51

The following story is a work of fiction set in the format of reality. Any
resemblance to real people is entirely coincidental in nature, and is not
meant to accurately reflect persons in towns, cities, or governmental
areas, in which the story is staged. If sexual scenes involving male to
male relationships offends you, then you should not read this story.
Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most states and
countries, you are not allowed to read this by law. This is fiction. Don't
forget, in real life, to think about 'sexual safety matters'; got condom?

"Nature Walk" 51 (M/t oral tickling)
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

"Seems like we're getting to be old friends. Please, have a seat Callan,
Pete."

"Thank ya ma'am," Pete replied courteously, which highly pleased Marsha
Burke, principal of the WR Elementary School.

"Thanks for taking Pete on at this late notice," Callan says, cordially.

"We're packed to the gills. However, we can't turn down a child in need of
a rightful education, can we now?" Marsha said, getting comfy in her chair
behind her desk.

Pete pipes up with, "How come ya got so many kids?"

"Well," Marsha replies, "being that our Elementary School house grades K
through eight, we're mighty packed in here."

"Like sardines?" Pete replied, which gave Marsha and Callan a giggle.

"Yes. Now, about you, Pete. Mr. Romano informed me last night that you're a
remarkably gifted young man?"

"I am?"

Callan rubbed Pete's back, saying, "Meaning the way you answered those slew
of math questions real quick last night."

"That's because my name's Pete Quick!"

Marsha didn't get the connection, until Callan pointed out his name, on the
card in front of her, then came the delayed humorous response.

"So it is.. so it is. Well, Pete, I've relayed a bit of your information to
the school gifted and talented team and we'd like to have you tested."

"Like a rat?"

"No," Callan relates, "they want to give you some testing of your math,
science, reading and other skills."

"Seems to me you know a lot on the subject, Callan?" Marsha questions.

"I guess you might say, 'been there, done that'!"

"You're like me, dad-Callan?" Pete asked.

"Well, I went through what they want to do with you. This is a good
opportunity for you, Pete and you know we're all behind you, whatever the
outcome."

"Is this to see if I got smarts?"

Marsha picked up the pace with, "Why don't we begin the testing and after a
few hours we'll have some kind of idea if you got 'smarts', Pete?" She
smiled.

He smiled and said, "Okay, but one thing," Pete spoke as if offering terms.

"Yes?" Marsha and Callan spoke at once.

"Can I still do stuff a school kid does?"

Marsha replied in the affirmative, though Callan had some reservations. She
picked up the troubled thoughts Callan had on the answer.

%

"Good morning students and welcome to the next bright, beautiful abounding
day here at WRHS..."

Barry rattled off the paper stuffed into his hands, as soon as he made his
almost-late appearance in the office at WRHS.

"And toddy.... toddy?"

Over the loudspeaker, in every classroom, plus hallways, could be heard the
friendly argument of Agnes and Barry, over the typo.

"It's today, Barry..."

"But it says toddy..."

"It's today, for God's..."

"I guess it's today... okay.. ahem! Today the track team will meet at
2:45pm... sure that's not a typo? pm?"

"It's pm!" Agnes quips, still half giggling from the last rumpus on the
mic.

"Ahem! Okay, so that's trak team at 2:45 'pm'.."  he adds, "Oh, and listen
to this, Agnes.."

Agnes says, "What?" now leaning over Barry's shoulder, her glasses propped
up in her hair, reading the bulletin of announcements, even though she
typed them up not fifteen minutes ago.

"They're adding underclassmen to the track team."

"That's good?"

"Underclassmen, only?"

"What's wrong with that?"

The whole time that the announcements are eating into the teachers'
classtime, which the students don't give too hoots about, Barry and Agnes
are carrying on with this scenario, as if a written script of comedy
classics.

"Maybe it's a typo."

"What's a typo?" Agnes says, stealing the papers from his hands.

Barry holds up an invisible script of the morning announcements. Suddenly a
lull occurs. Barry begins to ad lib.

"Well, come out to track team practice, anybody, at 2:45pm. Be there or be
rectangulaire!"

"There's nothing wrong with my announcements, Barry!"

"I didn't say there was," Barry, now conscious of the mic in front of his
mouth. "Speaking of which, Rectangulaire will meet at 2:45pm in the
cafeteria."

Five more annoucements remained to be given, but the bell rang, which threw
the school into chaotic hallway movement.

"Be a dear and come back during lunch hour, to finish Barry?"

"For you, Agnes, sure. Oh by the way, how's the scripts coming along?"

"No problem. We've run off the first hundred copies."

"They'll be done by audition time, wouldn't they?"

"The presses are running all day, Barry!"

Smiling, Barry took his mail from his box and started out, to pass through
the myriads of students.

"Mr. Barr, we'll be there!"

"Oh, Richie, we've got to talk," Barry replied.

Barry waded through the crowd, to the most famous kid in school, Richie
Manilow.

"Mr. Barr, got a problem."

"Oh, what's that Richie?"

"Uncle Barry might have a problem with a tour, at the same time the
Madrigal Presentation is going on."

"Oh, that's a shame, Richie. Well, be sure to tell him, I appreciate his
thoughts and wish him good luck on his tour."

"That's it?"

"What do you mean that's it, Richie?"

"Wow! Anybody else would be having fifty kiniptions, jumping up and down,
wanting to sue my ass off!"

"Like I said, Richie. Initially, it was nice of your uncle to offer. All of
us, sometimes, make the mistake of committment and then have to change
their plans. Sure, it would have been nice to celebrate our first
production of Rectangulaire with a big star's name involved. Hey, look. We
still have Weston McAllister."

"That's right. The kids are all psyched up that he's going to be involved
in the production. So, what did you want to talk to me about, Mr. Barr?"

"Fundraisers. We need lots of money and I mean, 'lots', Richie."

"Like how much is a lot, Mr. Barr?"

"How much is the most you and Jason Sanchez ever raised?"

Richie thought it over, as the activity in the hallway disapated.

"I'd say around a thousand. Maybe twelve hundred. That was for marching
band outfits."

"What marching band?"

"Most of them graduated last year."

"Hmm."

Barry also made a mental note of that.

"So, is that around what you thought, Mr. Barr?"

"We gotta get you some help, Richie."

"Why? How much did you think you need, Mr. Barr?"

"How good are you at math, Richie?"

"I can do it without a calculator most of the time."

"Multiply one thousand times ten and tell me later. Have a nice day,
Richie.

Richie had to calculate the problem three times, before it registered,
mouthing out, 'ten-thou-sand-doll-ars?'

"Hey, wait up Mr. Barr! I need a pass to class!"

%

"Great idea you made to Coach Pepper, Chad."

"Thanks, Steven. Aren't you going to run today?"

"Wade didn't show up."

"I can walk, even with these bum ribs."

"You want to do some track, Chad?"

"Sure. I'll need some help later in the shower."

"I can help you. Need help getting into your shorts?"

"Maybe," Chad replied, on the sly.

"How about some help to your locker, Chad?"

"No, but might need help when I open it and faint from the deadly odor!"

The two seventeen year olds laughed, as Chad led the way to his
locker. When he opened it, the two almost fainted, upon which it quickly
shut.

"You wouldn't happen to have an extra pair of shorts, would you, Steven?"

"I think I do."

"Mind?"

"Not at all."

So, turning around the corner, Steven opened his locker.

"Man, how do you keep it so clean, Steven?"

"Mom says that cleanliness is next to Godliness."

Chad smiled, as Steven took out the ugliest brown shorts he ever saw.

"Here, I'll lend you my best pair, Chad."

Seeing the excitement of Steven extending the random act of kindness, Chad
accepted the shorts graciously.

"Thanks, Steven."

"Be careful sitting there. The bench is loose, Chad."

"Thanks for letting me know. Don't go too far in case I slip off, Steven."

But Chad didn't slip off.

"By the way, got a jock strap, Steven?"

"No, sorry Chad. I know Coach Martin says we should have them, but my dad
says just to use some white briefs."

"Maybe I'll go 'in the raw'."

"The what, Chad?"

"The raw. You know, Steven. No briefs? My _ _ _ _ hanging out" Chad spelled
with his hand, as if holding his cock and balls.

"Chad?"

"Steven, haven't you ever worn pants without briefs?"

"Nope."

"Oh man, you haven't lived. Especially walking around in shorts and you
feel your cock and balls swept up with the breeze."

"Never tried it. Feel good?"

"You're gonna find out. Take your shorts off and shuck your briefs,
Steven!"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. C'mon."

Chad hadn't meant it as this, but at same time he would get to check out
Steven's package.

"What?" Steven replied, stepping out of his briefs, his cock and balls
hanging in the breeze.

"For a seventeen year old jock, you sure are 'built', Steven!" Chad used
the same gesture for holding a big package.

"I am?" he replied, blushing.

"Nothing to be ashamed of, Steven. Yeah, you've got one big set there!"
Chad again repeated himself, totally awed out.

"I figured I'd be mediocre. I'm not?"

"Not a bit, Steven."

"Oops. I don't know why I'm getting hard, Chad."

"Wait a minute, Steven."

Getting up and walking, it wasn't the loose bench that almost made him
trip. His brown, ugly shorts at his ankles almost tripped him when he
stood.

"Hold on a sec, Steven," Chad replied, sticking his head around the corner,
into the main aisle.

He listened for a moment.

"Nobody's here except us, Chad."

"Making sure, Steven."

"Why?"

"Hold on a sec, Steven."

"Okay, Chad."

Retrieving his notebook, Chad pulls out a ruler.

"What's that for, Chad?"

"Don't you want to know how long you are?"

"Long? Where?"

"Your cock, dufous!"

"My cock? What does that matter, Chad?"

"Aren't you even curious, Steven?"

"Do you know how long your cock is, Chad?"

"Sure I do. Every guy knows that."

"They do?"

"Sure."

"Then I guess I should know."

"Firm it up then."

"Okay. Cool."

Getting weakened with every stroke, Chad stood there with ruler in hand. He
already had licked his lips a couple of times, eyeing up that beaut, the
pubescent dark hair surrounding the eighteen year old's protrusion.

"That's good. Here, lay down on the bench, Steven."

"Not 'that' bench."

"Oh yeah. Forgot. Here, how about the towel table."

Walking from the aisle of lockers they approached the small alcove of the
showers. Chad removed two towels. Steven hopped up on the edge.

"Lay on your back."

"Okay. Cool."

"Alright if I touch your cock, isn't it, Steven?"

"Sure it is, Chad. Nice of you to ask, though."

"That's what my dad taught us."

"If my dad knew, maybe he'd give me that advice. Then again, if my dad
knew... forget it!"

Steven let out a groan, placing his hands over his face, like it had been
the most awesome thing that has ever happened to him in his life.

"Don't tell me nobody's ever milked you before, Steven?"

"Milked me?"

"Jerked you off?"

"No. Never, Chad. Not even touched me. Oh man does it feel good."

"Measuring time."

Chad stood Steven's cock up straight with one hand and placed the end of
the ruler next to it. He made sure the short edge remained in place
consistently, as he studied the piss slit.

"Well, Chad?"

"I'd say an 8c, plus an eighth inch."

"Is that good?"

"I'm a 7c and Matty is 8.5c."

"I'm longer than you, Chad?"

"Yeah, but don't let it get around, okay buddy?"

"I wouldn't. Wow! I wonder if I'll get as big as Matty?"

Chad put the ruler down, but still clasped the 8c in his hand.

"That all to measuring me, Chad? Ready for the track?"

Still holding it, Chad licked his lips.

"Chad?"

"Oh yeah. What?"

"Feels good, you holding my cock and all, but are we going to do some
track?"

"Track? Oh yeah. C'mon. Let's go."

"Um, Chad?"

"Yeah, Steven?"

"What about your shorts?"

"Oh yeah. C'mon, let's go Steven," Chad said, changing mental states.

%

Another day, another dime and the last bell rang. Students rushed into the
halls, going for their lockers. It didn't result in the mass exodus to the
outlets. Instead, the hallway towards the gym and cafeteria, one in the
same, became jambed. When Ann Engelhardt, the girl's phys ed teacher,
spotted some female students head into the boy's gym, she beamed her
attention towards the entrance.

"What's all this, Coach Pepper?" Ann questioned.

"I haven't a clue," Pepper replied.

"I'll get to the bottom of this! Julie, why are you and your friends here?"

"To tryout for the track team, Ms. Engelhardt."

"That answer your question, Pepper?"

Ann Englehardt ran her phys ed classes with strict discipline, yet when she
herded the twenty or so girls out of the boy's lockerroom, they followed
with intent on forming a girl's track team.

"I, for one wouldn't miss them," Denis replied.

"You're going out for track?"

"Yeah, you Mark?"

"Yep. Cool, huh?"

Barely talking at home, the two 'step' brothers congratulated each other,
throwing their arms over each other's shoulders.

"Hey, what's up, Denis?"

"Adam, you know my bro, Mark Barr?"

"Your dad is the 'Rectangulaire' guy?"

"That's him," Mark said proudly, considering his dad was probably the most
popular teacher in the whole of West Richland's school district.

"Your dad's cool, Mark."

"Thanks, Adam. Are you trying out for the track team?"

"Yeah. Figured if my guy was, I would."

"Your guy?"

Denis informed him, "I didn't say much at home, but Adam and I are dating."

"That's cool," Mark congratulated them.

"Besides," Adam continued, "my mom would be proud of me for doing something
worthwhile."

"Oh yeah. Sorry to hear about the accident and your mom and stuff," Mark
tried conveying his sorrow of his mom's death, but felt inadequate at the
detailing.

"Thanks."

"Where do you live? Not at home, do you, Adam?"

"We're at the orphanage right now, but my mom's friend, Riley Sanchez is
trying to get us a foster home to live in."

"That'd be cool," Denis replies, "but we'd better hustle!"

"Okay guys, into your shorts and shirts and in the gym!" Coach Pepper's
voice rung out.

Meanwhile the cafeteria was packed, like a can of sardines.

"This is overwhelming," Wes McAllister mentioned to Barry.

"I know. What do we do?"

"You need to limit enrollment," Wes came up with.

"Geesh, we didn't ever think in our wildest thoughts we'd have to result to
that, Wes."

"Hmm... my wildest thoughts don't consist of school matters!"

Barry was quite surprised by the comment from Wes, but liked the joke!

"How many?"

"I'd say audition them all and pick out your best eighty for parts and
stand ins. Tell them..."

"Got a better idea. Here's the mic, Wes!"

Barry produces a buttplug shaped item, placing it in Wes' hand.

Getting a look from Wes, Barry replies, "I know... I know.."

With the remote microphone up to his lips, the thirty-one year old thespian
reels off his ideas about the WRHS Madrigal Presentation.

"So, today, if you are interested in a speaking or a singing part, see
me. That doesn't necessarily mean there isn't a part for you to play on the
technical end. We'll need students to work in fundraising.."

Richie Manilow yells out, "We need to raise ten grand!"

"Ten fuckin' grand?" One of the boys says out loud, quite audibly,
shrinking when all eyes glance to him.

His girlfriend, Kim Cain hitting him on the head with her harmless flyer,
then quickly shushed by those around him. The advisors let it ride. Wes
finishes up, telling all other students to see Mr. Barr and
Mr. Romano. However, Alonzo is no where to be seen. A few more than eighty
break away to sign up for the theatrical part of the production. Barry,
singlehandedly takes on the other hundred or so techies.

"Need a hand?"

"Callan? Boy, do I!"

Barry, amazed at how Callan supervised the signin sheets, slapping paper
all along two tables, writing ABC at the top of the first, DEF, the second
and so on.

He informed the students, "If your name is on the wrong list,
alphabetically, we're crossing you off, so be careful ladies and
gentlemen."

"Wow, you're amazing Callan."

"It's nothing. Where's Alonzo? I thought he was supposed to help you,
Barry?"

"I don't know. What brings you here?"

"I wanted to drop by, on my way to work, to tell you that everything worked
out with Pete and...."

"How 'did' things go, Callan?"

"Great. Pete is really an amazingly smart kid. He might lack in some social
skills, but his math, reading, comprehension and other subjects are above
average."

"That's awesome. What does Marsha think?"

"Well, it's going to take some time, but he'll eventually fit back into
eleventh grade."

"Oh? Not right away?"

"That Marsha Burke is something. If she can get the funding, she wants the
gifted and talented staff hired for the summer, to help Pete catch up."

"Oh, she'll get it, mark my words, Callan."

"You're that confident, huh Barry?"

"Ask your better half."

"I wonder what happened to him?"

"Ditto here. Why don't you do some follow up to his classroom."

"Where's that?"

"Second floor. Two o'two."

"Gotcha."

As Callan paced the hallways, he eyed up the reflections of student
achievements. It bothered him, in a way that so much success surrounded
him, yet he didn't go for it when seeking higher education. As he
approached Alonzo's classroom, looking through the little glass window, he
saw students sitting at desks, writing furiously. He decided not to
interrupt. Making his way back downstairs, he figured on going to work
early, instead of returning to the Rectangulaire meeting.

%

"What did Miss Allen say about your harp?"

"She said 'sorry' and when I get it fixed that I could still play for the
class."

"She's a nice lady."

"Yeah. I think she's a queer."

That took Aidan a few steps back.

"How do you know, Philip?"

"I don't know. I heard my dad say something about us queers..."

"Gays, remember Philip?"

"Yeah, well us gays have a special channel, like on TV."

"Gaydar. I know. Sean told me that."

"He did? What did he say?"

"He says some of us gay guys have a gift to know if a guy is gay."

"Do you have it, Aidan?"

"I don't know. Once I thought a guy was gay, but he wasn't."

"How do you know?"

"I saw him kissing a girl!"

"Yech! That's disgusting!"

"Yeah, tell me about it, Philip."

Walking back from the bus stop, the two chatted away.

"Hey, Aidan?"

"Yeah, Philip?"

"Want to try sucking each other tonight?"

"Don't forget Frankie and Diego are going to be there."

"Oh yeah. I guess we could wait til Saturday."

"I wonder if we're going to sleep in our new house or old one?"

"I'm not sure, Aidan. depends if the bed has to be put together."

"Wow, I just thought of something, Philip."

"What's that Aidan?"

"My dad says we're leaving the beds in my room for Diego and Frankie. I
wonder where my bed in the new house is coming from?"

"That's cool, Aidan. Maybe you and I will have to shack up, huh?"

"Yeah, cool, Philip. Our dads wouldn't have a choice, but to have us sleep
in the same bed."

A car zipped by them.

"Hey, isn't that dad-Callan, Philip?"

"Sure is. Wonder how come he didn't stop and pick us up?"

"Maybe he's in a hurry to get to work."

"But work," Philip points behind him, "is in the other way."

Both boys shrugged their shoulders and kept on their trek home.

%

"Hi Mom!"

"Oh, you gave me a start there, Chad!" Bernice said, slamming the fridge
door.

"I thought you weren't supposed to go in there before dinner?"

"Just a teensy weensy snack wouldn't hurt!"

"How much do I get for not ratting on you to your other half?"

Right after Chad's spoken words, Alberto walks in the back door. He stares
at Bernice, the dish of apple pie in her hand.

"Aha!"

The look on Bernice's face spells 'caught'. That is, until Chad does some
fast thinking, to bail her out.

"Um, thanks mom," Chad smiles, taking the plate of apple pie.

Bernice gulps.

"Really, Bernie, you expect me to be that gullible?" Alberto states, hands
on his hips.

Bernice, or Bernie, as Alberto nicked her confesses, "Okay, so I was going
to take only one teensy, weensy apple from the pie!"

"Yes and one after that," he closes in, "and one after that and pretty soon
there would be only the sweet crust left."  Acting out the part rather
well, half serious, half teasing, Alberto continues, "And pretty soon all
that would left is the empty dish and all that delicious, high carb, high
calorie treat would be right here!"

"Oh!" Bernice belted out when Alberto smacked her fanny.

"Really, Alberto and in front of the kiddies?"

Matty pokes his head in, saying, "What gives, guys?"

"Mom's learning how to diet the hard way, Matty."

"Hey! Leave some of that for me, Chad!"

Chad had picked the quarter leftover piece of apple pie, eating right from
his hand, chomping off bite after bite.  Matty took Chad's hand in his and
forced the morsel from Chad's face to his own.

"Matteeeeeeee! There! Ya satisfied?"

"Sorry Chad."

Part had broken off, sending it straight down the front of Chad's borrowed
'preppywear'.

"Now, I suppose you're going to bust my chops for getting your sweater all
'appley', Matty?"

By this time, Bernice and Alberto had left, via the backdoor from the
kitchen, for their afternoon nature walk.

"C'mon, Chad. Strip it. I'll toss it in the wash, while we're here."

Matty licks his fingers, as Chad pulls the sweater off over his head. It's
still cool in the kitchen, from the spring air that escaped through the
door.

"Brrrrrr..."

"The cold'll do that to you."

"Huh? Do what Matty?"

"Firm those hot pecs right up, Chad."

"Why don't you warm them up?"

Without thinking about his sticky fingers, Matty massages the small
niblets.

"Oooooh..."

"Oops!"

"What now, Matty?"

"Forgot to wash my hands."

Chad brushes his thumb over one of his own nips.

"Ugh. You got me all sticky, Matty."

"No problem."

"No problem?"

No sooner had Chad recited the same info, than he's throwing his head back,
groaning in ecstasy.

"Oooooooooooh...."

Not only is Matty licking Chad's nip, but his hand is down the front of
Chad's jeans, firming up the rest of his anatomy.

"Oooooh man..."

"Hee heeee... next?" Matty alerts Chad, switching from one nip to the next.

"That feels sooooo hot, Matty?"

"Yeah, I know it does."

"You do?"

"Go ahead and check!"

Chad feels up Matty's crotch.

"I didn't know you liked pleasuring my nips so much, Matty."

"Well, I'd rather be sucking your cock, but....."

"Hey, no problem. C'mon!"

"Wait, the sweater, Chad."

Chad takes it along with him, rolling it up in a ball.

"It can wait. I can't!"

%

"Cal, what's the matter, honey?"

"Nothin'....ooompfff!"

Without warning, which had carried on throughout their teenaged years,
Catherine plops herself down roughly into Callan's lap.

"Don't you give me that crap, bro. What's up?"

"You know. Those old thoughts, returning."

"I thought you were over all that, Cal?"

"I thought so too, Cath, until... y'know about me taking Pete to school
today?"

"Right. How'd it go?"

"The kids got a high IQ. I'm surprised nobody knew."

"How could they when the kid's been absent from school?"

"Yeah, you're right."

Callan sat normally in the armchair. His twin shifted, her back against one
arm, her feet over the other. Catherine petted her brother's hair like a
puppy.

"Y'know I could always tell when something's wrong, Cal. So?"

"It's the school."

"What about it?"

"All that stuff hanging around and the kids lining up and..."

"Oh, I get it. Cal, you've been carrying this around for a long time. I
mean, in a way it's your own fuckin' fault!"

"Thanks for the sympathy, Cath."

"I'm sorry. Forgive?"

"You know I can't stay mad at my favorite sister."

"You got another I don't know about?"

"You know what I mean."

"I know. So, what are we going to do about this, Cal?"

"What can be done? Here I am twenty-three years old, an EMT and... Cath,
I've got my life all picked out."

"Now what one fuckin' minute there, Cal," Catherine says, tapping on her
bro's nose, as if a judge pounding a gavel, for attention in the
court. "First off you're not too old to do something about this and
secondly, you've got a good man next to you, whom I 'know' is willing to
help see you through all this. Well?"

"I guess."

"Cal, you're shittin' me, right?"

"Alright. Yes. Alonzo is great. He's... he's everything to me, Cath."

"I know you meant to say, 'next to me'."

Callan smiles a small one, saying, "Yeah, you've always been there for me
Cath."

"Isn't it about time you've started trusting Alonzo?"

"Trusting him? What do you mean, Cath?"

"Hey, I've seen you off and on in the mood for a couple of weeks now,
Cal. Don't lie to me. Have you spoken to Alonzo about it?"

"No. I haven't told him anything about it."

"Have you at least filled him in about us?"

"No."

"I think it's time."

"Have you mentioned anything to Jade?"

"Of course she knows the whole story. When I told her about all those
doctors testing us and then tossing us out like scum, she said we should've
sued their pants off!"

"I think the fight in you is rubbing off on her."

"Shit! What time is it?"

"Almost four."

"I gotta start cutting up the veggies for the soup."

"I think she's rubbing off on you too, sis."

"She's a lovely person. I lucked out, Cal, but hey, you going to level with
your man?"

"Yeah."

"Promise me, Cal?"

"I will."

"Hmm...I'm going to through a hint to Alonzo and if I don't get the right
response, I'm telling him!"

"You don't have to fuckin' do that Cath, okay?"

"Just testing you, Cal. I know you'll tell Alonzo. You two really love each
other, don't you?"

"He's the most.... 'next to you', he's the most important person in my
life... well, Diego's a cute kid, too."

"I'll let you slide Diego in ahead of me, okay?"

"Catherine! What are you doing on Callan's lap?" Aidan's young voice broke
the calm chat.

"I thought you two were queers!"

"Gays, Philip... gay!"

"I meant that. Gay and a lesbo!"

"Lesbo, huh? And where'd you get 'that' from, Philip?"

"Aidan! He taught it to me, Catherine!"

"Uh-huh. And I suppose that big brute brother of your's taught you Aidan?"

"I dunno," Aidan replied, not fingering anybody in particular.

"And why are you boys home so late?"

Philip gets an evil thought, saying nervish, "Who put you in charge of us?"

Faking it, Catherine slides off of Callan's lap, onto the floor, on her
ass.

"Catherine you okay?" the two run to her, hidden by the chair.

"You okay sis?"

Callan gets the message, a wink from his conniving twin.

"Oh, I think I broke my sacrarilliac!" she moans.

"You need help, Catherine?"

"Ooooh yeah. Getting old. You boys mind giving me a hand?"

Ready to break under the pressure, Callan gears up for one of his sis'
famous fakeouts.

"Sure, no problem," Aidan and Philip offer, tossing their bookbags aside.

In no time, the two kind lads, who've offered their hand to the lady in
distress are pinned to the floor, like a couple of losing
wrestlers. Catherine's tickling them mercilessly!

%

Sounds like a ticklish affair!  continued.........

       Copyright 2005 T. Chase McPhee All Rights Reserved.

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