Date: Sun, 24 May 2009 16:37:30 -0700 (PDT)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: OLuFsEN & SONs 21

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.

%

OLuFsEN & SONs 21
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

Unlike other commutes, Dario rode silently along the countryside till it
turned into the main drag, a county road which connected Goldwater Creek to
Granite Lake, the small town in which Erik-Gef Industries was
located. Normally Dario would have some loud music bouncing off the
interiors of his late model car, singing where he found the lyrics
catchy. An exception, a rare occasion, he drove with the music playing
softly. After a midweek trek to the bar the night before, a leftover
headache in the morning bothered his brain because everybody bought too
many rounds of beer. Then, still perturbed over what was said last night he
cut the radio off altogether.

By the time he reached the sprawled out complex of Erik-Gef Industries, he
was so down that he was more blaming Jay for what his twin said to him. So
much so, the brown paper bagged lunch Jay fixed for him, he deep-sixed it
in a trash bin like driving a basketball through a hoop, with a vengeance!

Pounding the pavement, he entered his card in the slot, then greeted
security, when the guard offered first, a very cool and short, "Hello!" If
Dario had turned his head back, instead of trudging forwards he would have
seen Alberto's head follow him, as he comment to himself, `What's got your
balls twisted up, mister?'

Passing several offices and the stairway to the lower level, he came upon a
double door with plate glass windows. Again he tucked his ID card in the
slot and admitted himself. Ten minutes before he entered, the person there
before him left, so when he entered there was minimal noise from the
computer system running. Walking around the room he touched buttons which
set in motion different monitors lighting up. He knew the complete cycle
would take about an hour so he had time to `play around'.

Saturdays the main cafeteria was closed, but vending machines provided
coffee and snacks. Leaving the computer center he headed in that
direction. About ten doors down the hallway he passed the gym. Sometimes he
wished it were open so after his meager lunch he could work out some. Eight
feet past the door he stop short and froze. Thinking he heard something he
listened. "Nah," he said, mistrusting his hearing. But as he took another
step he heard another sound from the gym, louder. It was none of his
business who chose to come in to work on Saturday, play catch up on an
account, but because of the mood he was in, it left him curious - anything
to distract him from the thoughts already cramming his brain. He tried the
door. It was locked. Shrugging his shoulders, Dario continued his pacing
towards the vending machine area.

"Need something?"

Turning around, Dario saw this dude he'd never seen before, partially
hanging out of the doorway.

"Um I was just on my way to get some coffee and well... I know the gym is
closed, but I thought I heard something." And as Dario retraced his steps,
stood two feet from the guy, "Coming from in there?" He thumbed that
direction.

In return, the tank-topped guy replies, "I'm new here. I was trying to get
familiar with some of the machines." What he was also thinking is how he'd
like to `get familiar' with the Italian hunk standing there talking to him!

Opposite the way he felt, Dario makes a turn around in behavior saying, "I
see. Welcome to Erik-Gef Industries. I'm Dario Cupertino."

Taking Dario's hand he didn't want to let it go, but was kind hiding his
homosexuality so made it a quick introduction, dispersing with a longer
handshake, "I'm Shane Duffy. Good to know you."

After connecting with their eyes, Dario asks, "Where you from?"

"Back east. Bridgewater, New Jersey. You?"

"My brother and me... we grew up in Goldwater Creek." And Dario adding
more, "He works at Erik-Gef too."

"Oh? Where? I've only been here a day, yesterday, but I've might have seen
him? What`s he look like? " Shane tells.

After announcing, "Me!" he highlights the answer with a wide, toothy grin.

Shane portrayed a person who didn't understand.

Dario shares, "He's my twin brother. His name is Terron." And then like an
idiot, "Same last name as me!"

"I would hope so," Shane replies, a smile adorning his face.

"Oh yeah. I guess it would have to be unless we had two different mothers,
then... oh scratch that.... Wouldn't work either!"

By the time they got to the next question, Shane's glittering personality
had drawn Dario into the gym.

"So where do you work?"

"Computer center."

"On Saturday?" Shane questions.

"Yeah. Bummer huh? But at least it's a job. I take the helm every two
months. Not so bad."

Moving on, Shane asks, "Do you ever come down to the gym?"

"Oh yeah. Regularly. I mean I'm here often. Mornings before work sometimes,
depending if I can get bro up and out of the house on time." And with an
instant thought, an unpleasant one returning, Dario suddenly lost some of
his bright composure. "Hey look, I've got to go. Maybe I'll see you next
week sometime."

"Yeah," Shane replied, thinking of what he said which might have caused
Dario to suddenly become `cold'. And as Dario left, he yelled, "Nice to
meet ya!"

"Same here," Dario replied, some steps down the hallway.

Closing the gym door and turning the latch, locking himself in, Shane
plastered his back up against the back of it and exhaled a long chain of
breath. "Oh my God is he gorgeous!" Sinking to a squat only caused him more
fervor, making his crotch feel like bursting out more than it already
was. He rubbed it. His butt fell on the floor. In a day-dreamlike state he
tried to picture what Dario looked like under the façade. From the v-neck
of his buttoned down shirt he could see the hint of a mat of dark brown
hair, wondering how far and wide it traversed. He licked his lips just
thinking of how it would be to lick each hairy pec. Closing his eyes Shane
pressed his head into the door, as his hand played havoc, ditched deep into
his gym shorts. Eyes closed, he worked his way down Dario's bod, an
imaginary view complete with sounds as he slurped his way down Dario's
stomach till he got to `pay dirt'. Before his tongue even reached Dario's
pubes,
 while one hand parked his gym shorts under his balls, the other was
stroking him into oblivion, ropes of cum shooting out onto the matted
floor.

As for Dario, he deposited a dollar, waiting for his coffee. Strange thing,
by the time he had it in his hand, sipped a few, his mind was back on the
`hottie' he just met at the Erik-Gef gym!

%

"Are you some lucky guy!" Nick says as he enters the kitchen.

"Oh? How's that go?" Erik questions.

Gef answers, "Nick got in touch with the gang."

"And?"

Hanging on Erik's shoulder as Erik attends to the sink, he tells him,
"Lucky for you I could reach Gregg, Ari, David and Jake Chinnery and the
rest and although they had plans said they wouldn't mind picking up a few
extra bucks."

"So they said `yes'?"

"Yes, unless...."

Knowing there was a catch, Erik unleashes Nick's arm, turns and asks,
"Okay. Give it to me."

Perfect timing, Nick says, "Sure. Turn around and bend over, Erik!"

Good thing the kids were busy in their room, Gef and Nick laughing their
asses off!

"Ha-ha, funny Nick. In your dreams!" Erik replies.

Still laughing, Nick replies, "Dreams do come true if you want them to!"

"Fine. Now what else am I going to get raked over the coals for ruining
your friends' Saturday?"

"They're not asking much Erik," Nick informs him, "only a dip in the pool
afterwards."

"I see. I suppose there would no harm in that."

"Cool!" Nick said, him and Gef tearing away to make some more phone calls
to complete their plans.

"All cleaned up!" Zack said to his father as he and swiped his palms across
each other.

"Yup and we even made our beds," Jase says.

"That was quick," Erik replied, looking for a small confession, maybe of
how they swept everything lying about into the closet perhaps?

"We're fast workers," Jase tells.

Erik stood there in his bathrobe, by this time quite a large gap in the
middle, his bare bod showing as the robe's belt is loosened.

"Dad?" Zack asks, taking a seat at the table.

"What?"

Jase and him look at one another, giggle, then Zack tells, "We can see your
bellybutton!"

It was mildly put on account of the two could visibly see their dad's
pubes, the golden hair, but mostly, as Jase put it, "And your `weenie'
too!"

"Oh is that all," Erik gives them a sly look, draping his robe in front of
him, hiding his family jewels and bellyhole.

Then off subject of the barbecue, Zack asks, "Hey dad, when are Jase and me
going to start getting hair like you have?"

Erik looks them over, knowing they didn't mean on top of their heads! "When
you're older," he leaves it open-ended.

Wise to the deception, Jase asks, "When did you start getting that stripe
down your stomach dad?"

He was only twenty-nine. Thinking back, Erik placed the time when his
treasure trail started to show some substance, at least as far back as
eighteen. "Maybe eighteen."

"We have to wait `that' long?" Jase said it with a whiny tune to it.

But off on a different plane, Zack says, "How old is a guy in eleventh
grade, dad?"

"Could be sixteen or seventeen, depending on where in the year his birthday
falls. Why?"

"Manny Cortez's brother came to school to walk him home and he had no shirt
on. He's in the eleventh grade and has a stripe down his stomach." And
dramatically, "Goes right through his bellybutton and keeps on going!"

It was funny the way he said it, making Erik giggle, but he didn't let it
throw him, saying, "Well some guys get body hair when they are
younger. It's all in the genes."

"Jeans?" Jase asks, picturing something in the pocket of his pants.

Saved from digging into the subject matter, Gef and Nick return, Nick
announcing, "We've got everything under control," and naming on each
finger, "the crew shows up at one o'clock, sets everything up, David and
Jack Chinnery man the grills, Gregg bartends, Ari, Trey and Petros keep the
food coming and Gef and I will do the bussing. Any questions?"

Jase asks, "Why do you need a bus?"

The two got a firsthand account of how a party goes!

%

With nothing more to do than check up on systems, making sure everything
was in proper running order, Dario found lots of time to kick back, lounge
in a swivel chair, park his hands behind his head and gaze out the
window. Suddenly, something outdoors cracked his solitude, "What's this?"
Out from behind his head his hands raced for the sides of his chair,
placing him upright. Using the swivel chair as his vehicle, he wheeled
himself over to the window. The distraction he needed from his woes
presented itself, the landscaping crew doing up the grounds. "Yum!" he said
of a Latino hunk in a tight-fitting wifebeater, trimming the bushes right
in front of his window. Was it his imagination? The dude wasn't paying all
that attention to chopping off the top of the bush? It must've been, since
the dude finished the bush and took off.

Slowly, as the morning progressed Dario thought over what Terron had said,
things he had doubts of coming to light, his brother ever finding a
mate. But years ago, when their parents had passed on, he made it his
private vow to take care of his bro, even if it meant forgoing his own
happiness with another man. After all, as time went on, Terron had filled
the void and there became no need for other than Mr. Right-now. Since it
was a short day, his shift ending at three, because the next person came on
board to babysit the computer center, Dario never took lunch. However, as
the landscaper disappeared from view, Shane crept in. He wondered if the
gym was still `occupied'!

Venturing out for a half hour, Dario put everything on `auto-pilot'. If
something bonked his beeper would sound and he would hustle back. He
thanked his lucky stars it never happened to him. Anyhow, walking down to
the gym he found more encouragement in his step than heading to the vending
machine earlier. Literally he kept his fingers crossed hoping Shane hadn't
left. He knocked three hardy times.

"Hey Dario," came the reply as Shane opened the door.

"Hello-o-o-o," Dario greeted him, studying him up and down, the barechest
and wet, shaggy hair from towel-drying.

Shane smiled.

"What?" Dario asks after focusing.

"Nothing," Shane replied. "Wanna come in?"

"That's why I'm here!" Dario replies.

"The gym's closed, but you can work out if you want to? I've got a few
things to take care of."

In more ways than one did Dario think about `working out', watching Shane's
tail-end as he walked away. Smiling, he proceeded farther into the recesses
of the gym. Normally Dario would start with some cardio, so hopped up on a
treadmill. Pressing start he did a slow walk, increasing his step
some. Since the gym wasn't in full operation like a weekday, he quickly
noticed the ventilating system wasn't running full blast. He knew the rules
regarding going shirtless, but since he was the only one there, at least
compromised, unbuttoning his blue dress shirt, parting it down the middle,
pulling it out of his pants and letting the tail hang out. As he sped up
his pace he grew more perspired. He quit when he felt his shirt getting
soaked in the back. At this point, before heading back to his station,
which was shortly, he knew he had to freshen up. Heading towards the
locker-room, he entered, stopping short in his tracks. `OMG!' he thought,
seeing
 Shane mopping up the floor, bending to dip the mop in the bucket,
stretching out the little bit he had on, a jockstrap, two ass cheeks
encased in a couple of straps.

"Ahem!"

"Oh. Dario. Done with your workout?" Shane asks, turning and using the mop
handle as a leaning stick, both hands atop.

"Uh, yeah. I didn't have much time, but wondered if I could like rinse off
my face a little?"

Shane hoped for more than Dario's face. He slipped and said, "You can rinse
off more than that if you want to?" Although mostly in the closet, no
reason for Shane to be deprived of the gift of `gaydar', having his
`gay-meter' on, it ticking away like uranium to a Geiger counter!

Not immune to Shane's pitch, Dario caught his drift and replies, "I suppose
I could."

His intentions were to strip his shirt, but when Shane walked over to a
locker, opened the door and said, "You can stash your pants and shoes and
stuff, in here," he started to get palpitations between the legs.

"Thanks," he modestly said. "I thought they had maintenance to do that?"

"My own fault. I took a shower and forgot the towel. Dripped all over the
floor on the way to get one."

Dario thought he would have liked to have seen that! But let alone, he
couldn't keep his eyes off the mopping up as he slowly pulled his shirt off
behind his back. He smiled to himself, thinking how beautiful, like a work
of art, Shane's melons firmly planted in between the white fencing of his
jockstrap. Kicking off his sneakers, one of the few amenities of working a
Saturday along with minus the tie, he unbuckled, lowered his pants and
stepped out of each leg. Folding them in thirds he placed his pants in the
locker. Next, he took off each sock, depositing them inside. Reaching his
thumbs in the elastic binding, Dario pressed down, releasing his pent up
emotional tools.

"Wow!" Shane said, abruptly turning around to mop behind him.

It's then Dario gets what he's been thinking all along, like himself, Shane
is gay. On the sly he mentions, "And I'm hard up all because of you!"

Then so much into what Shane is perceiving he didn't notice the jockstrap.

"You're not the only one Dario!"

His mouth formed an `O', looking upon the white pouch, `bursting with
energy'.

Then allowing the mop to fall against the wall, it falling over onto the
floor, Shane waltzes over to Dario and `feels' him out with, "But I saw you
first so I get to `taste' first!"

"By all means," Dario replied, not putting up a fuss.

Climbing over the bench, Shane takes a seat right in front of Dario's
hanging pubes.  "Back home I was considered quite the cocksucker you know?"
It was a line, Shane knowing he was too shy about his sexual trait, to
expose himself in this manner.

"Prove it!" Dario replied, taking his cock in his hand and leading it to
Shane's lips.

And as Shane, about to take his first taste of Dario, a beeping sound comes
from inside the locker!

%

Copyright 2009 T. Chase McPhee

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



The more you stretch, the more you can fit in... 'spread' happiness!
TCMcP.....