Date: Mon, 13 Aug 2007 08:58:40 -0700 (PDT)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: Natures Trail 18

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's Trail" 18
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

Coming to a dead end, in the corridor of the hospital,
they wheeled Mark into a sterilized room, two
windowed, double doors closing, almost right in Denis'
and his escort's face.

"I gotta get in there... make sure Mark is alright!"

Placing his five fingers on the glass, pressing on the
door, Barry took hold of it, reacting, "We all wish
Mark the best and believe me, he's getting the best
care, son."

Instead of accepting his father's rational reasoning,
Denis freaked out, tears once again flowing, as he
protested, "Nooooo, you don't understand... I gotta be
near him... he... he saved my life. I gotta make sure
he's okay!"

Breaking his hand away from his dad, Denis did what he
wanted to do. With both hands on the door, he began to
barge in. A doctor they've never seen before, stopped
working on Mark, shouting, "Somebody want to get that
kid out of here?"

Quick to react, Darryl, still keeping tabs on Denis,
grabs him around the middle, hauling him back out,
spooning his bod at the same time. "I'm sorry you
can't stay in there," the police officer said.

>From outside, Steve saw the doctor working over Mark,
nod to one of the attending nurses. He left the side
of the gurney and came out into the corridor.

"Anything to report?" Barry asked.

"Um, not yet, except the doctor has ordered up some
x-rays and an MRI. However, he wanted me to come out
and see if he," pertaining to Denis, "the other young
man needs some assistance?"

Before Barry or Steve could say a thing, Darryl
replies, "He's suffering a lot of anxiety over his
brother's injuries. Can you give him something?"
Feeling the tension in Denis' bod loosening up, Darryl
lightened the grip around his midsection.

"I'll see what I can do. Follow me," the nurse said,
leading them away from the emergency room.

Barry hesitated leaving, so Steve told him, "You stay.
I'll tend to Denis."

"Keep me informed," Barry told his partner.

"I will."

Catching up, Steve caught the trio at the elevator,
Riley coming around the corner, Matt still with him.
They all entered the elevator.

"I have some questions for Denis," Riley said, facing
Steve.

Steve replies, "I don't think Denis is any condition
for any kind of interrogation."

"No, don't misunderstand me, Steve," the six foot two
puts his hefty hand on Steve's shoulder, "I didn't
mean right at this moment. Wait til he calms down."

The nurse keys them in, "Doctor Warner has authorized
me to give him a light sedative."

"Does that mean you are admitting him?"

Even though Denis was on high anxiety, he followed the
conversation passed along from Riley, to the nurse and
then his dad. He blurted out, with high intensity,
"There's not a fuckin' thing wrong with me. We should
be with Mark, making sure he's okay."

Riley, Steve and the nurse exchange glances, Riley
saying, "Yeah, he definitely needs `something'."

Highstrung as it is, Riley's words provoke Denis,
sending him into desperation. Reaching out, his arm
swings between Darryl and Riley, his fist punching the
lighted numbers of the elevator, as he protests, "I
gotta be with Mark!"

With adrenaline running, Denis throws himself between
the two police officers, when the elevator opens.
Unfortunately for Denis, it was the third floor, not
the ground floor, where they came from.
Another dealt out blow of unfortunate incidence, both
Riley and Darryl catch him, oncoming, taking hold of
his arms, Riley saying, "Whoa there!"

Now, more in a fit of rage, Denis yells, "Let me go!"

Breaking Darryl's hold, Denis' fist flies up, making
contact with the twenty-four year old officer's lip.
By now, Steve and the nurse have subdued him from
behind. Matt yells out, "Oh shit, Denis," seeing blood
spattered on the front of his tee shirt. The nurse
looks over to Darryl, saying, "You're bleeding. The
kid's busted your lip."

Picking up on the comment, Darryl swipes the back of
his hand over the injury, looking at it, seeing the
blood clinging to the back of his hand. Taking a
handkerchief out of his pocket, Riley says, "He got
you good, Darryl. Here."

The nurse says to Riley, "You want to hit two?" his
head nodding to the lighted buttons.

His finger depressing the two button, the elevator
closes, proceeding on it's way.

%

Arriving home, Alonzo directed the kids, "Bath, then
bed guys. Remember you start school tomorrow."
Expecting words of protest, Alonzo was surprised when
Seth and Diego were cool with the idea, heading right
off in the direction of the stairs.

"I think they're all `swimmed out'," Callan says.

Smiling, Alonzo grabs Callan around the waist, asking,
"And how are you doing?"

"Worn out. Sorry, but I don't think I'm much in the
mood."

Leaning forwards, pressing his chest to Callan's,
Alonzo kissed him, thinking of how Callan wouldn't
have to do much. All he would require of his partner
would be to lie there in bed and let him get fussed
over.

>From the kitchen door, they hear, "I didn't know you
weren't coming home for dinner."

Breaking off their kiss, Alonzo wiped his mouth as if
food was on it, replying, "We didn't either. I hope
you didn't fuss, Freddie."

"Sorry we didn't call," Callan informed the household
chef.

"I had a nice dinner prepared, but it's okay. I
stashed it in freezer containers. We'll save it for a
time when maybe I can take a night off."

Both dads liked his reasoning.

Slapping a dish towel over his shoulder, Freddie said,
"I'm going to check out some Tv. See you tomorrow."

They bid Freddie a good night, then headed for the
stairs. While ascending, Alonzo untied his necktie,
loosely fitted around his collar, then slowly
unbuttoned his dress shirt, down to his beltline.
Stopping at the boys' room, Callan pushed the door
open, asking, "Everything okay in here?"

The two had finished in the jon, Seth saying, "We took
a shower instead of a bath. That alright?"

They let themselves into the room, confronting the two
boys, topless, with towels wrapped around their
waists, like the big guys do!

Smiling, Alonzo said, "I suppose you two boys are
getting too grown up for a bath, huh?"

"It's a lot easier and quickerer," Diego told them.

Then Alonzo brought up, "Did you boys have a good time
at the pool today?"

His question provoked the two into a frenzy of
excitement, explaining all the things Matt showed
them, plus how Matt set up races, on a smaller scale,
for the boys to compete with each other. Seth says,
"You really missed a lot of stuff we did, dad-Callan."
Diego asks, "Where were you anyway?"

The dads exchanged glances, Callan fumbling over his
words, thinking of a good medical explanation, saying,
"Constipation."

"What's that?" Seth asks.

Diego to the rescue, replies, "It's when you get stuck
up with poop and you can't go!"

Alonzo and Callan giggle, Callan telling them, "That's
what it is!"

Before they get onto a subject they don't wish to
discuss with the boys, they head for the door, Alonzo
telling the two, "Lights out in ten minutes, fellas."

%

Way ahead of Justin, Christian had stripped down to
his briefs, asking, "What took ya? You're cutting into
my quality time."

Smiling back at his lover, Justin replies, "I had to
stash some papers away in my briefcase. You're acting
kind of perky tonight?"

Facing the bureau, Justin took his shark's tooth
choker off and placed it on top of the wooden jewelry
case. Before he could get to the buttons of his shirt,
a pair of hairy forearms reached in between, hands
starting to undo it for him. At the same time, he felt
a pair of lips on the backside of his ear. Right away
he felt movement in his pants. Since Christian worked
on his shirt, he started on the pants.

"I met the new chef today."

"How romantic," Justin states, as hands are felt on
the inside of his shirt, grazing over Christian's
lightly-haired chest, the other on his stomach, a
finger pressing into his navel.

Turning around, Justin asks, "Well? You going to tell
me about him?" He ends his question, looking down,
seeing Christian's 9c pointed straight towards him, as
if a needle on a compass. "Second thought, let's
wait."

Not waiting for a slow strip, Justin hastily
disassembles his wardrobe, as Christian turns down the
bedsheets. "His name's Adrian," he continues, lying
down on the bed, his head hitting the pillow.

"French, eh?"

"Adrian `Perreault'. Yeah, he's French and what a
`dream'!"

Entering the bed from the foot, Justin slowly climbs
towards the pillows, saying, "Hard to keep your eyes
off of him, huh?"

With a bit of moderation, Christian says, "He's okay."

Showing some interest, knowing his lover wants to tell
more, he asks, "Stats?"

"Twenty-four years old, about five-eleven or six feet
tall, maybe a hundred and eighty pounds, brown hair,
brown eyes, thin brown-framed glasses... a nice
looking guy."

"Nice? Sounds nicer than nice!"

"Know what was really cool?"

"What?" Justin asks.

"He had on a thin, white shirt, almost transparent."

Two minutes ago, Justin's hand had slipped around
Christian's cock. Spelling out the details, Justin now
had some lubrication to enhance the massaging action.

"And what else?"

It's then Christian caught on, looking, as well as
feeling some wet pubic hair.

"I've got a grip on this. You just keep going!"

"Feels real good, too... well, not much else to tell,
other than I saw these dark nips, a patch of hair mid
chest and a hazy trail down his abs."

"Make you hard?"

"I wouldn't call it hard. Yeah, his looks got me
twitching, but I wouldn't go to lengths to say he gave
me a full-fledged erection!"

"Not like now, eh?"

"Why don't we forget about Adrian right now?"

Christian didn't wait for Justin's answer. Right away
he took the upper hand, forcing Justin to fall over
onto his back, completely loosen his grip and relax,
while he assumed the doggie position, head bowed to
tongue his cock.

%

As Denis faded into the sleep mode, he repeated over
and over, "I gotta make sure... make sure Mark is
okay... I gotta be there when... he wakes up... he...
saved... my life... I owe him... I... I...."

"He'll be out for the night," the nurse said.

Taking out his pad, Riley wrote down some critical
information, sorting out Denis' last words. He didn't
neglect to jot down the name from the nurse's badge,
`Jack Collier'.

Matt, still nearby him, watching him write, saying to
Riley, "Wow! I guess this makes Mark some kind of
hero, huh?"

"We don't have all the facts. I'm not drawing any
conclusions."

"But you heard him, Riley. He said Mark saved his
life. What else can you think?"

"Like I said, Matthew. A detective doesn't make
conclusions until all the facts are assembled."

Riley also made note of Matt mentioning his name, in a
more personal manner, even though his title, Officer
Riley Sanchez was indelible on the brass-colored
nameplate pinned to his chest. Maybe he wasn't the
only one getting some kind of weird vibes!

"I suppose there's nothing more we can do here," Steve
says, combing Denis' blond hair away from his face,
with his hand.

"Steve, you might as well go see how your other son is
making out," Riley suggests.

"I suppose Denis wouldn't be waking up until morning,
anyway."

"Darryl," Riley dictates, "you stay here in case Denis
wakes up and says anything."

"Fine," he returns with, "but our shift is over. The
sarge said no overtime."

With an evil grin on his face, Riley says, "You just
stay put and leave the sarge to me. If you don't see
overtime in your paycheck, you come tell me. I'll
straighten it out real quick!"

As Matt stood there, he got shivers all over his body,
a tingling sensation in his crotch, hearing the manner
in which Riley spoke, a vision of a take charge guy,
authoritarian in a way. It excited the hell out of
him.

Going their separate ways, Jack ushered Steve, Riley
and Matt out of the room, telling Darryl if he needed
anything, to press the red buzzer. Out in the hallway,
Steve headed for the elevator, as Jack reported to the
nurse's station. Riley and Matt walked in the opposite
direction, saying good night to Steve, saying they
would take the stairs.

"I heard your partner say your shift is over," Matt
made remark.

"Yeah. What about it?" Riley replied, as if leading on
the witness, in a court of law.

"Nothing... I was just wondering maybe you would like
to grab a cup of coffee... something to eat?"

Always bold, direct to the point, Riley says to Matt,
"Why? You've got the hots for me?"

Fortunate for the swim jock they had reached the
bottom of the stairway, him losing his balance, at the
surprise insinuation.

Continuing his assault, Riley said, "Why don't you cut
the act, Matthew? I saw you checking me out way back
on Bridges Lane, right after I stopped you for
speeding. You couldn't keep your eyes off of me. Admit
it."

Slow to respond, Matt answered with, "Um..."

"You were standing right next to me when I checked out
Mark's injuries. When I squatted in front of the door,
your eyes were down my shirt. You were probably
checking out the package."

"Um, I.... uh..."

Before the nineteen year old could get the words out,
Riley had him up against the wall, his hands working
the tee shirt out of Matt's gymshorts, his hands up
under the tail, his lips pressing Matt's head against
the wall.

%

"Did you call your parents, John?"

"Yeah, back at the store. I told them I was spending
the night with you."

"They trust you?" Kevin questioned him, stripping off
his tee shirt.

"I've never lied to them," John went on talking, as he
gazed at an unframed drawing of a nude guy, head,
chest and waist. "We have a good relationship. They
think I'm responsible enough to make my own
decisions," John detailed, shuffling through some
other drawings, all of guys, some hairy, some smooth.

"That's cool. You feel like posing for awhile?"

Standing there barechested, the smooth blond starts
unbuckling his pants, asking, "Where's your roommate?"

"Kirk is out partying. He won't be in til late. Real
late!"

"Too bad he's straight. He's a cute guy."

"Yeah he is," Kevin agrees, "but one time I asked him
if he would ever let a guy give him a blow job."

"And?"

"He said it depended on the guy."

"So, did you offer yourself?"

Laughing, Kevin answered, "No, but he's so cute, I
probably wouldn't hesitate!"

"Might be kind of fun."

"What?"

"Watching you give a straight guy a blow job?"

"I could get into it. Sure. If it got your rocks off,
I'd do it with you watching."

"I was only kidding, Kevin."

"Well, I'm not. So anytime you want to see me do it,
just ask."

By the time Kevin got to the end of his statement, he
was stripped to the buff, standing in front of John,
who likewise showed all he owned. Taking John's hand,
he led him over to the bed.

"Here. Lie down."

"You're going to sketch me in bed?"

"Oh, you got me so horned up, I'm going to do more
than sketch you!"

%

Michael got tired of flipping through the Genre
magazine, looking at all the pretty boys, as he lay in
bed, waiting for Kevin to come home. Feeling up his
cock and balls, he tumbled them around, as he got more
comfortable. He couldn't achieve the satisfaction of
being stripped down and lying in bed all alone.
Turning, he looked at the alarm clock, saying out
loud, "Eight o'clock? Geesh, Kevin where are you?"
Right after he said it, he heard the jingle on the
cafe door, set ringing.

"Honey, I'm home!" Could be heard, as footsteps
ascended the wooden stairs.

"You're getting in kind of late, sweetheart."

"I know. Sorry about that. I don't think it'll happen
again."

"Why? Don't tell me you've hired someone?"  Michael
asks.

Slowly, as Kevin's fingers worked on getting his
clothes off, the `hiring' story unfolded. "I guess you
can say I was in the right place at the right time."

"Oh? How's that go?"

"I've seen this guy before. He's the distributor for
household goods; brooms, mops, pots'n'pans, plastic
ware. Anyway, I was feeling kind of desperate about
putting in these sixty hour weeks, so I figured I'd
approach Tom. He's usually so busy you can't get near
him, so I figured I'd snag him in the housewares
aisle, after he finishes with the sales rep. I lucked
out. Tom and he were just finishing up. Tom turns
around and asks, "What can do for you, Kevin?" I told
him I was getting burned out and needed to hire
somebody, asking if one of the staff would be looking
to switch to a full time job, working for me.

"And?"

"Suddenly this rep, turns around and asks me the
particulars of the job."

"But he has a job."

"I said the same thing to him," Kevin remarked,
rubbing both hands up and down his bod, from neck to
navel. "He told me he started with his company part
time when he was twenty and in college. They promised
him he'd be headed up the corporate ladder. Five years
later he's still stuck in the same old position. He
said he was tired of the dealing with the product."

"I think I would be too. Can you imagine thinking
you're going to be moved up someday and that someday
never comes? The bastards!"

With all his clothes removed, Kevin crawls into bed
next to Michael.

"So what happened?"

"Well, I informed Fil.. that's his name... Fil
Vitagliano.. I told Fil I hadn't worked out a lot of
the details, but the hours would be flexible and a
good starting salary. I told him right now I was a new
company, so I didn't have any benefits. I told him to
think about it. I had to laugh. He stood there for
about five seconds, said he would think about it and
then said he would take the job!"

"Just like that?"

"Just like that," Kevin replied, lifting the sheet,
half-mounting his lover, chest to chest. "Fil said he
was tired of driving all over creation, earning a
measly commission and getting nowhere fast. I kind of
felt for the guy. I've seen him working other days.
I've been there. He's a hustler."

"Cute?" Michael diverts to the personal subject.

"Average. But he's really built."

"Built? Like physically?"

"Yeah. I don't have an application, so Tom gave me one
a store employee would fill out. Afterwards I read
through it. I mean, by looking at the guy, you can
tell he's tall and muscular."

"So?"

"He's twenty-five years old, six foot three, two
hundred and fifteen pounds, has football shoulders,
brown hair, hazel eyes....."

"They put all that on the application?"

"Nah," Kevin giggles, "that comes from checking him
out!"

"So, he works out, too?"

"Yeah and you should see it. He's always dressed in a
white shirt and tie. The shirt has got to be a size
smaller. The buttons are like pulling tautly across
his pecs and abs."

"Was he giving you a hard on?"

Kevin didn't even answer Michael. Instead he jumped on
his bod, head over his pecs and singled out a nip to
chew on!

%

Copyright 2007 T. Chase McPhee
This story may not be sold, nor made part of any
collection, without prior consent from the author.