Date: Fri, 12 Oct 2007 20:12:10 -0700 (PDT)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: Natures Trail 32

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" 32
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

"Flowers?"

"Yeah. Darryl brought them for me," Denis replied,
lazing in the bed, looking to the yellow daisies
sitting in the pitcher of water.

Walking over to them, Harry Morse, head nurse, yanks
the bouquet out of the plastic pitcher.

"Heeeey! What the hell are you doing?" In lightning
response, Denis was up and out of the bed, standing
there, confronting Harry with his question.

"First of all, this isn't a receptacle for flowers,"
Harry replies.

"Then I'll find something else," Denis says, reaching
for the yellow flowers.

"We don't `have' anything else for this purpose."

"Then I'll just hold them," Denis replies, wondering
why Harry hasn't suddenly turned on him.

"You'll get everything all wet. I'm getting wet
standing here."

Turning to leave, Denis quickly strutts around Harry,
plastering the door with his back, demanding,
enunciating each word, "I - want - my - flowers!"

"If you don't move yourself aside, I'll have to call
an orderly," Harry sternly tells him.

Denis confronts him with, "You're taking my personal
property. That's stealing!"

Going to the phone in the room, Harry presses a couple
of buttons. While off guard, Denis takes the
opportunity to take the flowers from him.

"Why you little bastard!"

Actually, Harry was the `little bastard' here,
measuring up to five feet, ten inches tall, Denis
towering over him at six feet tall. Watching Harry
come closer, he seemed backed into the corner of the
room, with no place to go. So, to protect something
having more value than gold, he turned and faced the
corner, hiding his prized possession between the wall
and his chest. Taking his best shot, Harry reached
over Denis' shoulder and grabbed at the package of
flowers. He came away with three of them, plucking
them off the stems. Denis stood back a little from the
wall, looking down into the clump of daisies, seeing
three stems, minus the flowering parts.

"You... you ruined my bouquet," Denis said, as if
Harry killed a living being.

>From around Denis' left side, Harry found his way in,
snatching at the remnants. With hate for Harry's
random act of unkindness, welling up inside him, Denis
did an instant about face. He ran after the thirty-one
year old nurse, catching up to him as his hand was on
the long door handle. Grabbing up the back of his blue
scrubs, Denis pulled him away from the door. With
Harry's body in motion, turning his attention to the
insides of the room, Denis goes for the flowers,
regaining owership of them.

In a fit of rage, Harry makes a dashing grab for the
flowers, with his left hand, scooping up a portion of
Denis' hospital garment and with his right arm, plows
his fist into Denis' stomach. With no recourse but to
let go, Denis grabs instead for his stomach, doubling
over, moaning in pain, gasping for breath, legs giving
away, knees buckling. Falling to the floor, the
eighteen year old huddles over, the top of his blond
head on the floor, breathing rapidly.

Standing there, almost over Denis, Harry says outloud,
"You couldn't let it well enough alone. No, you had to
make me do something to stop you!"

Almost immediately, the door opens and two orderlies
enter.

"What's happened here?" One of them calls out, both
men's eyes dashing between Harry, standing, and Denis,
still bent over.

>From Harry's mouth, comes, "He's dangerous! He
attacked me! I had to defend myself!"

%

"Hey Kev! Wait up!"

"School's over already?" Kev asks, as John races to be
at his side.

"No. Only a couple of classes. I needed to get some
air, so I thought I'd take a walk."

"And let me guess," Kev says, with a cocky smile on
his face, "you just happened to be walking by the
entrance to the fine arts building?"

With a toothy grin, John replies, "Yeah, okay. So I
kept walking between the two entrances til I saw you
come out over here."

"Come here," the twenty year old art student says,
cupping John's head in his hand, giving him a sweet
kiss.

"Hmm... looks like my stalking paid off!"

"Is that what it's come to?"

>From way across the courtyard, two guys park
themselves on a bench.

"Did you catch that, Jim?"

"You mean the two guys kissing?"

"I don't know who `tall-dark-and-handsome' is, but the
blond is John Torkelson, isn't it?"

"That's what it looks like from here."

Shaking his head, Connor says, "I never thought a guy,
as shy as John would land himself such a hunk."

"I wonder who he is?" Jim asks.

"Looks older to me. Do you think he's a WRCC student?"

"One way of finding out."

Seeing Jim's back, Connor hooks his hand in the back
of Jim's pants, dragging himself up from the bench,
shouting, "Heeeey, wait for me!"

"Oh no," John says, his hand covering half his face.

"What? Kev asks, looking in the direction John just
turned from.

"Here comes Connor and Jim."

"So? You know them?"

"Not very well, but the rumors I hear about them are
unreal," John says.

"Like what?"

Still a good building's length away, John fits into a
small interval of time, saying in a nutshell, "They
live with one of the college professors. I've heard
they have had threeway sex with him and have done some
other kinky stuff."

"Really?" Kev says, licking his lips. "Like what kind
of kinky stuff?"

Walking up to John and Kev, Jim greets them, "Hey
John. How's it going?"

Even though Jim's words are intended for John, the
eighteen year old senior's eyes are all over Kev.

"I'm okay," John replies. "You guys?"

Connor acknowledges `fine', but Jim continues, "This
your boyfriend?"

Knowing Kev for only a few weeks, intimately a few
days, he knows he hasn't blabbered around about
getting serious with any guy.

"Kevin Letterli," Kev offers his hand to Jim.

Shaking hands, Jim introduces his mate, "Connor
Matthews."

Feeling uncomfortable, John excuses himself, "I have
to get back to classes."

"Okay, babe," Kev replies, his lips offering a goodbye
kiss to his lover's cheek.

"So, you're an art student?" Jim inquires, nodding
towards the large, square sketching case.

"Right," Kev replies. "Right now I'm into drawing
figures."

"Like animals and stuff?" Connor digs.

"Not really. More into the human figure."

"Cool!" Jim says.  "Maybe we'll commission you someday
to draw our portrait."

Kev says, "Oh, I'm not into doing it professionally
yet. I'm still in the practicing stages."

Speaking for both of them, Jim tells him, "Well if you
ever need a couple of models, look us up."

"Really?" Kev replies, looking at Connor.

"Sure," Connor agrees, taking out a piece of scrap
paper and a pen, writing down his cell phone number.

Taking the slip of paper, Jim hands it to Kev, saying,
"Give us a call sometime."

"Maybe I will," Kev says, smiling.

As the two leave, Kev holds his sketch case in front
of him, thinking how hot it would be to draw the two
high school seniors, with all possibility of capturing
his first drawing of a guy fucking another guy.

%

"What time is it?" Aidan asks Philip, as they stand,
after school, in the front of the brick building,
waiting for one of their dads to pick them up.

"It... is..." Philip takes his time, reporting, "Three
forty-five. That's five minutes after you last asked
me."

"I wonder when dad's going to pick us up?"

"I hope he doesn't forget," Philip replies, as the two
scan the long sidewalk, alternating from left to right
and back again.

Over the past fifteen minutes, school traffic,
comprised of both vehicles and humans, has subsided,
the occasional person happening by. Several teachers,
making their exit, have concerned themselves with the
boys left unattended, Aidan and Philip assuring them
their dad would be by any minute.

"It's getting kind of creepy," Philip says, moving
closer to Aidan.

Where normally there would be other students,
teachers, parents, school buses pulling up, the two
stand, butting shoulders against each other, as
silence prevails all around them.

"I wonder what's keeping dad," Aidan again ponders the
question.

"Are you boys waiting for someone?"

Turning around, this guy is standing right behind
them, as if he sneaked up on them.

Aidan says, "Our dad, but he's late I guess."

"Most people have gone for the day. You shouldn't be
standing out here all by yourselves."

"I guess," Philip replies.

Both looked up at the six foot, dark-haired man,
dressed in a buttoned-down shirt, tie and sports
jacket, attache case at his side.

"Are you a teacher here?" Aidan asks, their full
attention now drawn from the sidewalk and street.

"Yes," he replied, with a smile, looking down upon the
two.

"I've seen you around," Philip tells him.

"You teach special kids, don't you?" Aidan probes,
putting the face with the classroom.

"Yup," their mystery man says, with a smile, adding,
"I teach in a special place, called the `resource
room'. My name is Mr. Bergne. How about you?"

"I'm Aidan Clark-Barr and this is my brother, Philip."

"Oh yes. Your father is the high school principal,
isn't he?"

"Yup," the two say, Aidan venturing to ask, "Have you
met him?"

"Only over the phone," Bergne replies. "I don't know
if your dad has told you, but I will be your brother's
tutor."

"Nope. He didn't tell us. Which brother?" Philip asks.

"Denis," Bergne replies.

Aidan tells him, "That's cool. Our dads tell us Denis
is going to be in the hospital for awhile."

Philip says, "We haven't seen him yet, but our dads
say maybe we can visit Denis this weekend."

"Our other brother, is coming home today."

Mr. Bergne tells, "I heard what happened to them."

"Yeah, Denis was lucky Mark was there," Aidan replies.

"Yeah," Philip says, "or else Denis coulda fallen off
the cliff!"

Not wanting to dwell on the subject, Bergne suggests,
reaching in his pocket, "Why don't one of you boys use
my cellphone to call your dad?"

"Sure," Philip says, handing the duty over to Aidan.

Taking the open cellphone, Mr. Bergne watches the
thirteen year old press seven buttons.

"Now what do I do?" Aidan asks.

Bergne points to the blue button, Aidan depressing it.
He quickly holds the phone up to his ear.

"Max? This is Aidan... Oh, you know... well, my dad
was supposed to pick us up after school and it's
almost four o'clock... have you seen him?"

Waiting, Aidan's face slowly changes to a look of
exclamation, his jaw dropping open, eyes as wide as
saucers. "No way!" the thirteen year old says.

Turning from the phone, still holding it to his ear,
Aidan tells, "Denis has gotten arrested!"

Philip's face automatically changes, his eyebrows
bunching up, a look of hurt, as he asks, "Holy cow! Is
he in jail?"

Reaching around Aidan's head, Mr. Bergne reclaims his
cell phone, saying, "Excuse me," with Aidan releasing
his grip, apparently still in a state of shock,
looking to Philip .

"Hello? I'm Julian Bergne, a teacher here at school."

After making themselves known to each other, Max tells
him he'll be right over to pick the boys up, but
Julian says it would be of no imposition to drop the
two off at home.

%

"What do you mean only `family members' are allowed to
see him?"

Standing guard outside Denis' room, Officer Mike Green
stood in the doorway, conversing with one of his
collegues.

"I'm sorry, Darryl. You know if I could, I would bend
the rules on your behalf," Mike said.

"This is really frustrating."

"Look, if they lift the restraining order, I'll be the
first to let you know, but for now, Denis Clark is off
limits. They aren't even letting in his brothers and
they're family!"

With feet shoulders width apart, hands on hips, the
rookie stood there, looking down, shaking his head.
Reaching out, Mike placed his hand on his fellow
officer's shoulder, giving the advice, "Why don't you
go home, Darryl? There's nothing you can do here."

"No. There is somehthing I can do," he stared Mike in
the face. "I can `be here'."

Just then, the door to Denis' hospital room opens,
Barry and Steve making an exit.

"How is Denis?" Darryl immediately interrogated them.

The sadsack looks on both dad's faces, gave an
indication to their forthcoming comments.

Barry, seeing the look on Steve's face, an inquiring
mind to whom the young police officer, showing such
regard towards Denis, he introduced, "Steve, this is
Darryl Tudyk."

Darryl wasn't sure how much of Barry and his encounter
from the past evening, made it back to his partner,
but offered his hand, hoping things were copacetic. He
was relieved when Steve's hand came up from his side,
meeting with his own.

"Good to meet you," Steve cordially extended the
greeting, though it was minus his usual flair of
happiness.

"Same here," Darryl replied, hastily turning his head
back to Barry, looking for answers. "I'm so sorry to
hear of Denis' ordeal. Do they know what set him off?"

"C'mon. I'll buy you a cup of coffee," Barry replies,
the dads saying a quick farewell to Mike.

Walking the length of the hallway, the three board an
elevator. Two minutes later, they are making their
exit, bearing left, following the sign to the hospital
cafeteria. Steve wasn't present when Barry had his
chat with Darryl, at the station during the evening of
the past day, but late into the night, the dads
discussed the fascination Denis had over Darryl and
the rookie's feelings towards their son. The bonds
seemed strongly knit. They weren't sure what lay
ahead, but one thing they agreed on, to remove Darryl
from Denis' life at such a fragile time, would be a
grave mistake. Then, this had to happen.

Sitting, with cups of java in each of their hands,
Barry was ready to open up the conversation, when
Darryl looked past the two, over their heads, towards
the doorway of the cafeteria. He abruptly says,
"Excuse me," lifting himself out of his chair.

Barry and Steve follow the young cop's image across
the cafeteria floor. Steve asks, "I wonder what this
is about?"

"Apparently Darryl knows them," Barry says.

After chatting with the two men, giving one a hug,
Darryl leads them in the direction of the table.

"Twins?" Steve questions, seeing the faces of the two
strangers.

Darryl stands to the side, saying, "This is Julian
Bergne and his brother, Owen."

"Julian Bergne," Barry says, rising out of his seat.
Recognizing the name, he offers his hands, saying,
"Denis' tutor."

Acknowledging him, Julian is quick to introduce his
twin brother's profession, "Owen is an attorney
and..."

"But how did you know?" Steve asks.

With a slight smile, Julian informs them, "I came
across Aidan and Philip waiting, alone, at school.
They..."

"Oh damn!" Steve curses, "I forgot all about picking
them up after school!"

"Not a problem," Julian replies. "They called Max and
I offered a ride, so they are safely at home."

"Thank you so much," Steve offers, along with Barry
putting his two cents in.

"I don't know if you retained the services of an
attorney. Right away I thought of Owen. If you have
one, it's okay. And oh, Aidan and Philip are quite
shaken up over what happened to their brother.
Actually, they think he's in jail."

Steve fills them in, "I'm sure Max will straighten
them out. Thanks so much for taking an interest in
them."

Putting aside the accolades, Julian assures them he
would have done the same for any student.

Barry, acting on behalf of his partner, addresses Owen
with, "We just left our son's room and it was the next
course of action to find ourselves an attorney."

"Coffee?" Darryl offers, waiting for a response, which
becomes a positive one. Steve picks up on it right
away, when Darryl asks Julian, "Do you still take it
light?"

"Right," Julian replies with a smile, "but I've cut
back on the sugar. Only one packet." "What about you,
Owen?"

"A water if they have it, please."

Another noticable aspect, Steve is comparing the
twins, noticing the two dress shirt-clad men, Julian's
shirt a bit baggy, while Owen's clings to what seems
to be worked out pecs, the buttons controlling the
shirt from busting wide open.

Darryl fetches and returns with the coffee and a
bottle of water. Just as he parks himself in his seat,
their attention is drawn to the entrance of the
cafeteria, as they hear, "Barry? Steve?"

In a beeline across the floor, Bernice heads in a
straight path, Alberto on her tail. Barry and Steve
lead the group in getting up, Bernice immediately
giving Barry a bearhug, saying, "I'm so, sooo sorry
honey."

"What do they say..." Barry responds, "bad news
travels fast?"

Breaking her hug, Bernice takes Steve up in her arms.
After a brief response from each, Barry introduces
everyone at the table, not mentioning the special
association Darryl has with Denis.
So, the table of five has enlarged to seven, Bernice
and Alberto joining in. Getting under way, Owen Bergne
spells out specifics, leaving one last detail.

"I know it's in here someplace," Bernice says,
rummaging through her handbag.

Barry and Steve look at each other, wondering what the
story is, til Bernice pulls out her checkbook!

"What do you think you're doing?" Barry questions her.


"Family's gotta take care of family, don't they?" She
says right out, clicking the top of her ballpoint pen.


"Bernice," Barry cuts in, "this is out of the
question!"

"Oh hush you two," Bernice says, filling in 5,000,
next to the dollar sign on her check. Adding the
decimal and two zeroes, she uses longhand to scribble
in the amount on the long line, ending with two `x-es'
over 100. After adding her signature, she passes the
check over to Owen, telling him, "You can fill in your
name."

Barry and Steve stare at the check, as Owen takes it
from her, passed across the table.

Barry strongly suggests to Owen, "I want you to tear
that up!"

Banging her fist on the table, Bernice argues, "Now
you've gone and insulted me. Besides," she fans
through her checkbook, "I got plenty more to write out
for every one you tear up!"

Two years ago, after meeting up with Steve, he warned
Barry about her stubborness, so for now Barry let
things wane in her favor.

"Alright, but we're paying you back for every cent."

To Barry's comment, Bernice responds, "Go ahead....
keep insulting me!"

Steve clears his throat, fist over his mouth, saying
through his teeth, "Give up... for now!"

%

"Where's your boyfriend, Kev?"

Stripping down to his briefs, Kev says to Kirk, "His
parents wanted him home for the night."

Sitting on the side of his bed, Kirk suggests, "Then
do you think we can... um... double up?"

"Double up?" Kev asks, puzzled. Then, getting it, he
says, "Why don't you just ask, `can we sleep together'
Kirk?"

"I dunno. This stuff is all new to me. I suppose it
will take awhile to get used to saying stuff like
that."

"Look, Kirk. I've kind of got a good thing going here
with John and I don't want to jeopardize it. Y`Know
what I mean?"

"Sure Kev. I understand. No problem, man."

As Kev slips off his briefs, he dons a pair of striped
boxer shorts. Kirk gets up from sitting on his bed and
proceeds to sit at the computer. "Hey," he turns to
Kev, as his hardrive gets fired up, "do you think,
since John isn't here, I could have a guy over?"

"I can't see why not. Hell, even if John `is' here,
you should feel free to have a guy over."

"Cool!" Kirk says, signing on to Windows.

After a short pause, Kev asks, "Anybody I know?"

"I don't even know!" Kirk responds.

"What do you mean you don't even know?" Then, Kev gets
it, saying, "Don't tell me you're going exploring on
the internet for a hookup, Kirk?"

"Well sure. Where else am I going to find a guy? I
mean he might come over for sex, but wind up being
`Mr. Right'!"

"Oh boy," Kev tells him, rolling his eyes, shaking his
head. Walking from the closet to the computer hutch,
he grabs a chair, setting it next to Kirk.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to help you find a guy for you. Slide the
keyboard over here."

"You're the best, Kev!"

"Don't thank me yet. First I have to find you a guy.
What's your handle?"

"Handle?"

"Yeah. What do you call yourself?"

"Kirkman."

"Kirkman?"

"Something wrong with it?" Kirk asks.

"It's dense. We've gotta get you a handle that's
alluring."

"Alluring, Kev? I didn't know I was."

"Believe me, Kirk. You shouldn't put yourself down.
You have tons going for you."

"Like?"

"Well," Kev coughs, clearing his throat, saying,
"you've got a nice bod... I always thought you had a
hot package."

"Package of what?"

"Oh man are you dense, Kirk! Package," Kev shows
example, groping himself.

"Your cock? Balls?"

"Yeah," Kev replies, keying in information at the
`sign up' option.

"What are you doing?" Kirk follows the typing on
screen.

"Giving you a studly identity," Kev replies, asking
Kirk his height, weight, religious preferences,
hobbies, etc.

"Sexybak?"

"Yeah. It'll draw them in like bees to honey."

"So you think I have a sexy back, Kev?" Kirk looks
over his shoulder.

Stopping, looking at Kirk, Kev reports, "You've got
sexy everything!" He ends his gaze at Kirk's briefs.

"Let me ask you something, Kev."

"What?"

"Well, don't get me wrong. I don't know if you're into
it, but have you ever like... I mean, you told me you
thought I have a nice `package'.... have you ever
wanted to.. y'know.... like...."

"Suck you off?" Kev well knows.

His hands over the keyboard, fingers in place to type,
Kev's chin aligns with his left shoulder, as he stares
at Kirk, his tongue on his upper lip, holding the
pose. His eyes look like they are closed, as they
glance downwards.

"Are you a bottom or top, Kev?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Well, I've never seen you and John do anything but
hug and kiss." Then, drawing his own conclusions, Kirk
rambles on, "Same with in the dark. I hear you
kissing, but I don't hear anything like you guys
fucking around, but in the dark if one of you guys was
fucking the other, I wouldn't be able to tell which
one was doing what. Get it?"

"Oh I get it alright. Some trusty roommate you turned
out to be!"

"Don't have a fuckin' cow, man. What else am I
supposed to do? Stick cotton in my ears and smother my
head under a pillow?"

Realizing he's gone too far, Kev says, "Okay. I'm
sorry. I suppose if I were in your shoes, my curiosity
would be piqued too. I guess it's unrealistic for you
to ignore what's going on in a bed, in the same room."
After a brief pause, Kev reveals, "Yeah, we didn't get
to it yet, but when we do, I'm the guy on the bottom."

"Then that confirms it."

"Confirms what, Kirk?" Kev realeases the mouse, giving
Kirk his full, undivided attention.

"Well, I figure all the times you've seen me naked,
either you're looking at my ass or `package'."

"Um, mind translating that into english?"

"Sure. Either you were fantasizing about fucking me or
sucking me. So, since you're a bottom, you were
checking me out, wanting to suck me."

"Y'know, Kirk, you know an awful lot for a guy new to
being gay."

"I learned a lot on the net."

Utilizing the comment to terminate the subject matter,
Kev turns to the application site, saying, "We can
finish your stats later. Let's see who's on." With a
touch of the mouse's arrow, Kev navigates to a
chatroom.

"Wow! I can't believe it!"

"What?" Kev asks, without looking away from the
flatscreen monitor.

"All this talk made me big."

That grabbed Kev's attention, as his head shot to the
left, checking out Kirk's pubes. Holding his hand
around his erection, the tall pole formed a circus
tent out of the boxer briefs.

"Does your cock get big when you talk about sexual
stuff, Kev?"

"Of course. What gay man doesn't get a hardon?"

"Are you hard, Kev?"

Backing out a little from the computer hutch, Kev
tells him, "What do you think?"

There, sticking out one leg of his boxer briefs is the
head of his shaft.

"Damn you're hard! I don't believe talking about my
cock and balls made you hard as a rock! You must
really want to suck me off, Kev!"

"Listen.. get it through your head, Kirk....I'm
involved with a guy... I don't want to suck you off...
that's why we're trying to find you a guy on
here...remember?"

"Forget it then."

"Forget it? Are you that dense, Kirk? I go to the
trouble of creating a sexy handle for you and you want
to sign off? What about finding a guy to suck you
off?"

"I want it to be some guy I know. Not a stranger."

Standing up abruptly, a bit overheated, Kev hits the
monitor button, saying, "Than why don't you go down
the hallway and knock on Jason Dalbec's door? He'll be
more than glad to suck down your load!"

"No. Never mind," Kirk says, in a pouty voice, getting
up from his chair, proceeding to walk over to his bed,
lying down, facing the wall.

Watching his roommate's sexy back, Kev runs his hand
over his face, as if planing water over it, letting it
drop to his lightly haired chest, sliding his
fingertips down the thin path, to the swirling hair
covering his navel, he lets them rest there, as he
thinks for a moment.

"Kirk, what do you want?"

Without turning over, Kirk talks to the wall, saying,
"We had such a nice time last fall when we slept
together in bed. You didn't try to take advantage of
me..."

"Because I thought you were straight!"

Finally, turning over, sitting on the edge of the bed,
Kirk tells him, "I owe it all to you, for helping me
come out."

Turning around, Kev parks his ass on the bed, next to
Kirk. "If it wasn't me, it probably would have been
some other guy."

"Maybe not though. I mean, I don't think every guy can
be as sensitive as you are with me."

"There's a lot of nice guys out there, Kirk."

"I suppose my greatest fear is I'll pick one of the
wrong guys. I mean, I don't want to get a guy who's
into all sex. I want a relationship like you and John
have."

"If that's the case, you need to stay away from the
chat rooms."

"If you say so. Kev?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you help me find a guy? You know, feel him out,
to see if he is right for me?"

"I could try. I've never played matchmaker before."

"John's a cool guy. You picked him out. Maybe you can
find a cool guy for me. He doesn't have to be as great
looking as John, but I'd like a nice build on him."

Sitting on Kirk's right side, Kev places his hand over
his left shoulder, saying, "I don't know if I can, but
I can try."

"What do I do for now?"

"Nothing wrong with me giving you a hand job, if you
want to drop your boxers?"

"Cool," Kirk replies mild-manneredly, thumbs teasing
the elastic waistband, inching his boxers down his
thighs, to his knees, dropping them to his ankles.

Kev's hand immediately comes into play, sliding over
Kirk's lightly-haired thigh.

"Nice," Kev says.

"What is?"

Nodding his head, "The furry pubes."

"I read on the internet that some guys like to shave
their pubes. Some shave only their balls."

Giggling, Kev says, "Yeah. The guys with the small
cocks. Shaving their pubes makes'em look longer."

"Do you think I'm a decent size, Kev?"

"Oh, believe me, Kirk. You are `quite' adequate!" Kev
says, a smile on his face, as he does the once over
his lips, with his tongue.

"When you say adequate, do I measure up to John's
size?"

"I don't know." Then he puts the buzz in Kirk's ear,
"Get with John sometime and compare."

"Wait." Kirk ponders, then follows through, "When you
say `get with John', you mean ask him?"

"Sure. Guys are always comparing themselves to other
guys. Here. Let me show you."

Withdrawing his hand from his roomie's brown-haired
pubes, Kev proceeds to stand up, his boxers on the way
down.

As if a pro in his field, Kirk, with eyebrows raised,
says, "You've got nothing to be ashamed of!"

"Come off it, Kirk. We've been rooming together for
almost two whole semesters. You mean to tell me you've
never seen my cock?"

"Well sure I have, but not up this close. Not point
blank!"

"What about when we were in bed together last fall?"

"We had the covers over us, then it was dark. I felt
your cock bulging against me, but I didn't have enough
nerve to touch it."

"How's your nerves now?"

"What?" Kirk asks, not catching the gist of Kev's
targeting.

Sitting there next to each other, Kev picks up Kirk's
hand and places it in his lap, letting it fall onto
his barrel. He then goes back to exploring Kirk's
pubes.

"Feels... soft."

"No different than yours," Kev says.

As Kirk feels up Kev's hardening shaft, he follows his
roommate's lead, forming an `O' with his thumb and
index finger, massaging the sensitive skin.  "Oh yeah.
You've definitely got the hang of it, dude!"

"Thanks for doing this for me, Kev."

"No problem, bro," Kev returns, using his hand, but
wishing his mouth could take it's place.

"Only thing is," Kirk stops stroking Kev.

"What?" he looks down at his hard shaft, handless.

"I'm not sure. The thing is, I'm getting tons of
pleasure out of you stoking me, but I'm not really
feeling it, doing it to you. What do you think?"

"Typical topman. No problem. Why don't you lie down on
the bed."

"Am I being weird, Kev, or is this the way gay guys
are?"

Head on his pillow, Kirk gets comfortable, placing his
hands behind his head. Shucking his boxers from around
one ankle, Kev crawls up on the bed, knees and hands
carrying his bod til he's parallel with Kirk's legs.
Resting on his thighs, Kev wraps his hand around
Kirk's hardon. Immediately, a bead of cum floats up to
the tip.

"Feels real good, Kev."

"Yeah," he licks his lips, "I can tell."

The more he strokes Kirk, the more the precum keeps
flowing, like lava from a volcano. Soon the gooey
liquid floods over his thumb. "Now I know what Jason
Dalbec goes through!"

With a perplexed look on his face, Kirk asks, "Jason
Dalbec? What do you mean Kev?"

"May John forgive me!"

Lunging forwards, Kev bows his head over Kirk's pubes,
his tongue stretched out, to lick up the side of his
roommate's shaft. Arching his back, Kirk moans in
pleasure, "Oh shit, Kev!"

Things get better, as Kev opens his mouth and goes
down on Kirk's cock.

%

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

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