Date: Thu, 27 Oct 2005 17:59:54 -0400 (EDT)
From: T Chase <survivalgame@excite.com>
Subject: Nature Walk 061

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 upon 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 state 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" 61
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

A year later....

%

"Think fast, Steve!"

The gang laughed, as Barry had faked his partner out, tossing the egg, but
not tossing it to him, as Steve stood before the sizzling frying pan, on
the stovetop.

"Oh, don't you worry... I'll get even!" Steve winked, cheerfully going
along with the joke.

"Dad-Callan, woulda Dad-Barry really throw'd the egg to Dad-Steve?" eleven
year old Diego inquired of his number 2 dad.

Smiling, the blond dad replied, "You never know what those two are
thinking, son."

Callan rustled Diego's blond, shaggy haircut, giving Barry and Steve a
wink.

Then, out of nowhere, came the question that pestered his biological
father, "Daddy, when am I gonna get a brother?"

Alonzo wondered how this question worked into the conversation. For a
moment, a diversion ensued, from one of the Barr siblings.

"Don't you remember, Diego that me and Aidan told you that we can be your
brothers, til you get one?" Philip replied.

"I know, but you guys get to live together. I wanna brother to live with
me. Daddy, when am I gonna get a brother, too?"

His father just didn't know. Diego sat between his dads, so it was easy for
Callan to help his lover ad lib on the answering of the touchy question.

"Hey, pal," Callan proceeded, placing his arm around Diego, hugging him to
his side, "neither of us know when, exactly, but I'm sure someday there
will be some boy who needs a loving home. You know we love you very much
and want to have another son, a playmate for you?"

Aidan says, sarcastically, "Oh, isn't that sweet?"

Philip at first laughs, until Aidan's dad picks up on it.

"Um, I don't think that is so funny, son," Steve reprimands him.

Aidan and Philip wipe the smiles off of their faces.

"Well, what do you have to say for yourself, young man?" Barry, the harsher
disciplinarian asks of Aidan.

"Yeah, okay. Sorry Dad-Callan."

Diego turns to Callan, placing his hand on his hairy arm and replies,
"Aidan didn't mean it daddy, honest he didn't. He was just joking."

Over the past several months, since the house switching has evolved, Callan
and Alonzo found themselves setting up their lovenest together, things
falling into place, with their son, Diego. Diego, only a year older, began
to wean from his more juvie vocabulary, changing his ways to the more
grownup, 'dad' for Callan and retaining the 'daddy' for his real dad.

"Yeah, okay," Callan replied, giving Diego a loving kiss on his forehead,
as an acceptance.

He also reassured Aidan that his apology was accepted.

"So, did Pastor Greg fill you boys in on what to take on the overnight?"

"Your father's right," Steve broke in on Barry's thoughts. "It's only a
week away and you boys will be trasping through the woods. We don't want
any last minute surprises."

"Not like last year's, campout, at least," Barry reiterated.

They laughed at it now.

"Oh yeah. Like that really sucked last year, when I had to share all my
socks and underwear with you little squirts!" Eric replied, only to get the
eyes from dad-Steve.

Eric got the message that the word, 'sucked' wasn't meant for usage around
the breakfast table.

"Oops! Sorry."

Letting it go over his head, Philip says, as his dad helped Steve divy up
the scrambled eggs, "Chad and Matty are supposed to get the lists for us."

"I think you better give your brother a call," Steve suggested.

"Now?" Philip asked, looking at his plate of mushy, steaming eggs.

"Well, not at this minute, but maybe after breakfast."

"I got an idea, Phil."

"What's that Aidan?"

"Why don't we go over to their place and find out?"

"Um, it's Saturday morning," Barry keyed them into, "so I think you boys
better call before popping in on them?"

Philip then turned it into an impromtu joke.

"Oh you bet, dad. Like we didn't know that now that they have their own
place, they can run around in the nude?"

They all giggled.

"Oh yeah, just like my dads do!"

A roar of laughter broke out, as Alonzo replied to Diego, not really
angered, "Son, somethings are meant to be kept as a secret?"

He looked to his partner, who responded with a smile.  No real criminal
thought had transpired and Diego's dad made light of the reprimand.

What constituted a thought from a young mind, to an adult like Steve,
peering across the table, spying the thick mat of dark brown hair,
V-shaped, showing at the top of his partner's robe, the prospects of
running around nude, in their private room, began to stir him up. Suddenly,
the taste of the buttery eggs seemed bland, in comparison to the thick
sausage he could be munching on upstairs.

"Um, Steve?"

"Yeah?" He broke out of his reverie, to answer his lover.

Barry repeated his question, this time with Steve's full attention, "Your
son wanted to know something?"

"Oh sure. What is it, Eric?"

"Um, not that we haven't tried it or anything..."

The high school junior looked kind of red, signs of embarrassment filling
his face, even before the question popped out of his mouth.

"Yes?" Steve prodded, at the breath break in conversation.

"Well, um..."

Denis spoke outright, "What Eric wants to know is, is there any set age at
when a guy can first fuck another guy?"

"Denis, you bastard!"

World War III began to break forth, as Eric and Dennis went at it, barking
insults to and fro. Steve and Barry tried halting the confrontation. Aidan
and Philip wanted to hear more. Young, inquisitive minds, wanted to know
stuff like this. Alonzo shielded Diego's ears, with his hands. Almost
finished with breakfast, Callan stood and began to clear the table.

"Well, I guess we better get back to the house. Laundry day," he said, as
he rinsed the plates and went for the dishwasher.

"Leave that, Callan," Steve called out.

"Hmm, bet you can't wait til sis and Jade get back from their honeymoon?"

Steve acknowledged Callan's remark, with, "And how, however I don't think
this conversation can wait!"

By this time, Barry had forcibly excused Philip, Aidan, Mark and Tom. Eric
and Denis knew they were in a heap of trouble. They now sat there, looking
evilly at each other, across the table.

"Well, your dishes aren't going to walk themselves over to the sink!" Steve
directed to the two boys left alone at the table.

"Want to get a move on it, boys? We've all got things to do today?" Barry
reinforced Steve's directive.

Steve quipped, "Not to mention that in roughly an hour we'll get our
'nature walk' call from your Aunt Bernice?"

That meant 'hustle'!

Both boys, now refusing to even glare at each other, picked up their plates
and glasses. Each made it a point not to confront each other, in the
spacious, triangular shaped kitchen. Eric went around Steve's left,
depositing his plate and glass, while Denis made his way to Barry's
right. All four returned to the long, wooden dining table, stretching a
good length of the kitchen.

"Now, what's this about Eric?"

"Why not ask Denis, since he's in the habit of spying on me?" Eric
suggests, in a grumpy tone of voice.

"I wasn't spying... I...."

Barry interrupts, "Alright! That's enough. Regardless of whatever has been
said, I think we have a more important thing to discuss here."

Turning his head to his partner, Barry moved it into Steve's ballpark. He
sat there for a moment, until Barry made a motion.

"Um, Steve?"

The old Chatsworth place, graciously remodeled by Bernice Bridges, which
included an indoor sauna and hot tub, as well as other amenities. Something
that had occured, shortly after moving into the new house, both fathers
found it to be, that on many occasions Barry had become the dominant
figure, not only in their bedroom play, but with the boys'
discipline. Barry had now made it an effort, in accordance with their
agreement of Steve's 'hung back' attitude, to incorporate both dads, in
their quest for equal partnership.

"Me? Oh yeah, well.... um... uh... okay, well what do you think about it,
Denis?"

"Huh?" Denis asked, looking to Barry for a clue to his father's query.

"I think," Barry helped his lover out, "what your dad means is 'what do you
think about...' well, to put it plainly, Eric's inquiry about 'fucking'?"

Steve gave Barry raised eyebrows, at first, but then succumbed to the same
down-to-earth manner.

"Yes, son," Steve tried broadening the subject, "why don't you give us some
of your thoughts on what age two guys should start fucking around?"

After the way put to it to Denis, he had a flashback in his mind of this
past week. At the meeting of the high school 'GG&G', 'Gay Guys'n'Girls',
originally chaired by Steve, but now co-chaired with his lesbian
counterpart, the elementary school principal, Washakie's niece Marsha, his
minded churned out nearly the same remake of the question. Steve felt a
hundred times more in touch, as he listened to the banter from the gay high
school fellows, toss their feelings around the room. Although, some of it
would not be fit for repeating, as the 'fucking' subject got a bit offkey!

However, for the four, the subject of fucking and it's loose usage of the
word, broke down the age barrier. It didn't seem to matter that Eric was
sixteen, nor Denis eighteen, nor Barry and Steve adults. The four resembled
a discussion group, bent on taking the subject by the horns and resolving
it.

"G'morning, anybody home?"

At this moment, Eric and Denis both showed tons of relief, Denis
especially, as the knock at the back door provided them with a walking
encyclopedia on sex and anything else that became the subject on an
emotional plane. Even Steve and Barry thought it a diversion to break up
the stagnancy of the atmosphere.

"Jacq, welcome!" Barry stood to greet him.

Steve welcomed his son, Sean, with a warm hug, then quickly broke their
embrace.

"Cup of coffee? Breakfast?" Steve asked, already going for the cup.

Barry said, a hand to his shoulder, "C'mon, sit down a spell with us!"

Jacq and Sean exchanged glances. They both knew Jacq was getting a 'snow
job' here. After all, both dads practically ignored Sean, channeling all
their attention to Jacq.

"Um, think I'll see what the guys have ready for the camping trip," Sean
noted, rubbing his hands together.

Of course Sean's thoughts seemed to go right over their heads, with little
comment, as did his vacating the room.

"Yeah, you do that, Sean," his father said.

Jacq managed to nod and say, "Later, babe," smiling, knowing what the jig
was.

Steve had the steaming coffee poured out, as Barry grabbed some scrambled
remnants off of the griddle, scooping it onto a plate, quickly buttering
some toast. Jacq, already cued into the two boys, sitting there, did some
inquiring.

"You boys having some problems in school?"

Steve answered, "And at home."

Again Denis lay the subject on the table, plainly, "Eric wants to know if
it's right to fuck at our age."

This time Eric kept his cool, as did Denis. Now that Jacq was present, they
turned to grilling his scientific brain from a practical view, regarding
the 'sensitive' subject.

A bit surprised, when Steve and Barry sat down, Eric asked, "Um, dads, do
you think we can talk with Jacq, like alone?"

"Alone?" Barry asked, half sitting in his chair, ready to pull it under his
ass, to sit.

"Like, by yourselves?" Steve quesioned the motive.

However, it was Jacq's smile and look that prompted the dads to resign to
the fact that the boys wanted their privacy with the present professional,
more like a paying session.

"Good thing to have Jacq around, huh Steve?" Barry commented, as they
strode into the livingroom.

"Yeah, but kinda made me anxious to hear what's on the boy's minds."

"I'm sure Jacq can fill us in later."

"Guess you're right Barry. Better this way anyway."

"Oh? Why's that Steve?"

"Well, the talk of fucking will just make me horny. Make me think of how
hot it feels to have you sink into 'my' ass!"

"Yeah, kind of does the same to me. In fact..."

Barry did a quick look around, then parted his bathrobe to show his briefs
sporting a slight tent.

"Hmm.... looks like you're needing some attention there, lover."

"What are we standing here for?"

>From the livingroom, the house broke off into several 'bungalows'. Some
contained sleeping quarters, others the sauna and hot tub, or the entrance
to the three car garage, exits to the backyard or the den or
playrooms. Prior to their moving in, about a year ago, same time as the
church camping trip, which Barry and Steve got roped into chaperoning,
along with Sean, Jacq, Chad, Matty, Terence Beethoven and others, became a
good vehicle for Bernice Bridges to descend on the place with an open
wallet.

Over a weekend, the place changed dramatically, with workers almost falling
over each other, to modify much of the rundown areas in two days. The barn
took more time, but the initial start began the transformation of the old
facility, into a modern stable, complete now with horses. She had the
famous landscaper from California, Tom Lynch, flown in, to remodel the
backyard into a masterpiece of comfort, complete with an enclosed, heated
swimming pool. Of course, Rome wasn't built in a day and neither did
everything come together during that short weekend. However, when Barry's
and Steve's family returned from their camping trip, they had been
astounded by the degree of change, plus forthcoming drawings of what was to
become.

%

Worth mentioning, Tom Lynch set out for town in his truck, given directions
to town, to pick up some peat moss.  He got lost and wound up near the
church. Getting out of his 4x4, he walked around the side, to see if
possibly the pastor or someone else was about, for direction.  On a tall,
wooden ladder, doing some leaf removal of the gutter, Terrence stepped on a
rotten rung. It snapped. It was Terrence's fortunate experience to have Tom
step up to inquire, that provided him with a soft landing. Fortunately, for
Tom, Pastor Greg and the youth group had done some leaf raking during the
week, to make the grounds look nice for Sunday. The bed of leaves made a
nice bed for Tom to fall backwards into. Both had something in common;
former football players.

"Ooooomphhhhh!" the twenty-seven year old landscaper grunted, the wind
knocked out of him.

Terrence took a minute to recover, then said, almost yelling, "I'm alive!"

"Lucky you... I think I'm half dead!" the voice came from the pulverized
landing debris.

Suddenly Terrence realized that there had been more substance to the pile,
than moldy leaves.

"Hey, you alright?"

"I... think.... so..." he replied, his two hands rubbing his pecs, then
stomach, one ending lower on his body.

At the same pace, Terrence, now standing above, gazing down, scanned along
with the moving hands.  Tom, catching his right hand pause over his crotch,
immediately removed it, as if it was hot to the touch, like a heated
iron. He also made a mental note that Terrence wasn't keeping attuned to
his face and that he lingered at his crotch. He wondered.

"Um, uh... here, take my hand," Terrence finally said. "Take it easy now."

Slowly Tom's broad shoulders lifted from the squashed pile of tree
fallings.

"Play football?"

"Football?" Tom replied to Terrence's inquiry, glancing to the lower body
of the attached hand.

"Yeah, um," Terrence replied, catching himself before making mention of
Tom's tight pecs that stretched his tee shirt, underneath the flannel
overcoating. He alluded to, "Tight grip," meaning their interlocking hands.

"College, you?"

Now that they stood upright, facing each other, the obvious presented
itself. Both had been built like tanks. Twenty-six year old Terrence
Beethoven stood there, at six feet, two hundred and ten pounds. Tom Lynch
boasted two hundred and twenty-eight pounds, on his six foot two
frame. Neither had to fill the other in on the basic representation.

"Yeah. Mammoth Falls University, a few years back," he reported back to
Tom. "You?"

"Dallas, until I suffered a knee injury. Then it came down to swabbing the
lockerroom floor, but at least I got to hang with the team. Um, want to let
go of my hand?"

"Oh yeah," Terrence replied, really wanting to hang onto more! "Hey, want a
beer?"

"At nine-thirty in the morning?" Tom replied.

"Oh yeah. Forgot. Time flies when you're having fun," Terrence said
sarcastically.

"What are you, the sexton or something?"

Terrence wanted to divide the word 'sexton' in half and reverse it, then
apply it, as he gazed upon the tall hunk.

"I help out on Saturday's at the church. It's a part time job for me."

The reason for Tom's arrival at the the church had momentarily become
erased from memory.

"What do you do full time?" He asked.

"How about a coffee?" Terrence switched the menu, looking for an excuse to
detain the stranger.

"I could go for that."

"This way. By the way, I'm Terrence Beethoven."

"Like the composer?"

"Distant relative."

"No shit? Really?"

"Very distant. How about you? Close relative of the invisible man?"

"Oh yeah. Tom. Tom Lynch here."

Hand shakes had already taken place. As if a natural reaction to meeting up
with his old college football pals, Dalton, Eddie and the gang, he put his
hand over Tom's shoulder and pulled him to the side.

"Didn't want you to slip on the spot where the water poured in here last
night."

Unknowingly, when Terrence touched Tom's shoulder, he sent a wave of heat
through the twenty-seven year old's body. In response, Tom's arm lifted and
went around the back of Terrence, resting on the other side of his
torso. For whatever reason, Tom felt comfortable leaving it there.

A wild idea filled Terrence's brain, but first he had to know something.

As they entered the solitude of the church kitchen, Terrence asked Tom,
"Play anything besides football at college?"

"Nah. Nothing interests me more than that."

"No, um, karate or anything like that self defense stuff?"

"Nope. Why?"

"Well, I might live to regret this, but here goes!"

Looking around, Terrence made sure they were alone. That's when he took his
big chance. Swinging around, in front of Tom, he gave him a bear hug,
placing his palms up against the football player's back, drawing their
chests together. He plastered his lips up against Tom's.

When they broke, Tom said, "Except wrestling."

However, Tom didn't react roughly, much to Terrence's relief.

"Good thing. They just remodeled the kitchen last fall."

Nothing was phasing Tom at the moment, except Terrence, whom stood there in
front of him, hands still firming each other's torsos, at the beltline.

"Well, how about that coffee?"

Tom wasn't a sassy guy, however the heat of the moment turned up his energy
drive. He wanted something real bad.

"How about your bed?"

Flashing a toothy grin, Terrence replied, "You work fast, huh Tom?"

"Me? I'm not the Beethoven that composed the 'Prelude To A Rape'!"

Tom surprised himself. Never in his life had he felt compelled to speak
such lude remarks, however Terrence was driving him on, forcing his loins
to turn him into a sex maniac.

"Rape, huh?"

Dropping his hand from Tom's belted jeans, Terrence found the reason for
the horny attitude.

"Looks like you're ready to rape the fullback!"

It became Tom's turn to grin, plus his lust continued to build, along with
the infilling of his jeans.

"You live nearby?"

"Very near," Terrence replied, then continued, as he turned and walked
towards the door, "follow me, said the spider to the fly!"

He led Tom through a myriad of doorways, to the room where Pastor Greg had
made love to him about a year ago. The same room where Estefan, Pastor Greg
and he had had more than a few threeway affairs, until he became the
'crowd' part of 'three's a crowd'!

"Hey, look... I... I'm sorry, Terrence."

"Huh?" Terrence did a double look at Tom's sudden cold feet.

"I... I shouldn't have let my crotch override my feelings... I...."

Terrence, whom had already pulled his tee shirt out of his pants and hiked
it up to his pecs, exposing his red-haired belly and deep navel, let it
relax.

As if he's known Tom for half a lifetime, he moved closer to him, saying,
"What's the matter, babe?"

Tom's dark brown head of hair stare Terrence in the face, as his chin
touched his tee shirted chest.

"Let me guess," Terrence continued, his hands on his own torso, "I'm the
first guy you've had sex with?"

Voluntarily, Tom raised his head. Across his red face, a wry smile spread.

"Nothing to be ashamed of Tom."

"I'm twenty-seven years old," is all Tom could think of saying.

"So?"

"I haven't even sucked a guy's cock."

"So?"

"So, like hear I am talking like I'm God's gift to the world of gaysex
and..." Tom ended his defense.

Terrence drew on his experiences, sitting in on quite a few of the 'GG&G'
meetings with Steve and the guys at the high school, where he taught phys
ed.

"Nothing to be ashamed about, Tom," he said calmly, placing a hand on Tom's
shoulder. "The way I look at it is that you've been saving yourself up for
a special guy. C'mon. Let's have that coffee, eh?"

Tom shook his head, 'yes'.

%

Exiting the livingroom, Barry and Steve ascended the three stairs to their
private 'bungalow', closing the door behind them.

"Mmmmmmmm," is all Steve alluded to, as Barry dropped his robe.

Steve did the rest, peeling his lover's briefs, as he sank to his knees,
his tongue already outstretched, wanting to tongue Barry's cock.

Slightly spreading his legs, Barry threw his head back, moaning, a hand
going to Steve's head. He wasn't forcing his cock into Steve's mouth, but
rather petting it, as Steve submitted on his own.

"Ooooooooh yeah!" Barry called out, closing his eyes, totally mesmerized by
Steve delivering the beginnings of a hot blow job.

%

Continued.....

Copyright 2005 T. Luke McPhee
All World Rights Reserved

This story may not be sold or made part of
any collection without prior written permission.