Date: Thu, 4 May 2006 08:44:04 -0700 (PDT)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: Living In The Lap Of Luxury 04

The story below is a work of fiction, set in the
format of reality. Any resemblance to real people is
entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to
accurately reflect upon persons in towns, cities, or
governmental areas, in 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. This is
fiction. Use protection in real life. `Got condom?'

"Living In The Lap Of Luxury" 04
The continuing epic fantasy of the `Buffalo Boys'
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

"What do you think you're doing, Peter?"

"Eating my lunch."

"Don't give me that bull. Who's this guy? And where
are Steve and Matt?"

"They're at the bar with Dil's friends. Why?"

"Excuse me," Dash Newman says, pulling Peter out from
under the table ledge.

"Dash, I think it's okay, if..." Boone tries to settle
Dash's hyper-temper.

"No, it's not okay. I left Peter in Steve and Matt's
care and they were supposed to take care of him."

"But I'm sure if..."

"No!"

Following Dash, pushing his brother in the handicapped
chair, around the maze of tables, he headed to the
bar, Boone behind him, with Dil bringing up the rear.

"Steve, what's the meaning of this?"

"Is everything alright?"

Boone tries to say, "Everything is fine."

"Everything is `not' fine. I thought you had been
taking care of Peter?" Dash badgers.

Steve Kestner tried to get the point across that he
was sure no harm could come to leave him with Dil.

"How do you know, if you just met these men a half
hour ago, Steve. I'm really disappointed in..."

Peter didn't go unheeded in the matter. Grabbing hold
of his eighteen year old brother's arm, he gives a
hefty pull, knocking him off balance, falling to one
side, almost onto his lap.

"Dash, what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Protecting you, Peter. What the fuck do you think?"

"Protecting me from what, bro?"

At this point, off of his feet, Dash knelt on the
floor next to the arm of the handicap chair, peering
over the side, almost even with his brother's face.

"From..." he looked around. "From...."

Dash couldn't find a reason. If the bar had broken out
in a wild brawl, that would be a good one, but
everyone acted calm, except Dash. Right then and
there, the only moment held Dash and Peter, whom put
his arm over his younger brother's shoulder, bringing
him to his chest to hug. The others around him, Steve,
Matthew, Nick, Dougie, Dil and Boone, plus a coupla
other patrons, took it all in, like a scene from a
family drama.

"Look, bro, I know it's been tough for you, with mom
and dad gone. I totally appreciate everything that
you've done for me, taking me to therapy, cooking for
me, doing my clothes, cleaning up after I accidentally
don't get to the jon in time, stuff like that, plus
juggling your own job and college, but Dash, it's time
that I start looking for a life of my own."

Except for the Juke box, the place remained quiet,
attuned to the two brothers, emptying out their lives
to each other.

"Look, you've got a nice guy, Boone here, and I've got
to find one for myself."

"I know," Dash finally admitted.

" Look, Steve foots the bill to bring us out here, so
you and Boone can be together and not leave me alone
at home. Hasn't Steve and Matt been great to us?"

Starting to feel bad, but recovering from his fit,
Dash replies, "Yeah."

"Well, I think you better start your round of
apologies with him?" Peter's nod throws a glance in
Steve's direction.

Taking the bends and folds out of his clothing, Dash's
clothes fill out with a hard, but a beefy musculature,
as he stands up. Turning, he faces Steve at the bar.
Reaching out his hand he asks for forgiveness.

"Steve, I'm really sorry for all the things I said. I
have nothing to accuse you or Matt of anything
malicious. Peter's right. You two have been great to
us."

Taking Dash's hand, Steve hops off his bar stool, one
arm going in between his arm and torso. Soon the two
are in a loving hug.

"It's obvious that you've been under a terrific amount
of pressure, Dash, so don't go being too hard on
yourself."

"Dash?" Peter calls out.

Turning, Steve releasing one side of Dash's bod, they
face the handicapped twenty-three year old.

"Huh?"

"I want you to meet Dil."

"Dil?" Dash asks, as if there's more.

"Yeah," Peter gives out a slight giggle, "that's all
I've got out of him so far!"

Dil walks up to Dash and extends his hand, offering,
"I'm Jon Diliberto, but the guys call me Dil."

Steve helps pressure Dash's arm out from his stomach
area.

Slowly he replies, taking Dil's hands, "Um... it's...
nice to... um, meet you... Dil."

"C'mon, you can do better than that guys," Dougie
offers.

Taking his palm, he positions it against Dil's back,
giving a slight push. In order to keep himself from
tripping, his arm goes behind Dash's back, as his body
is flung forwards, plastering their chests together.
Steve partially benefits from Dougie's move.

Nick scolds, "Douglass, you're being pushy again."

Even though Nick has impressed upon Dougie his inborn
instincts of being a matchmaker, he's done it again.

Matthew laughs, as Dougie announces to the world, "Dil
and Dash are almost inlaws. They should be `closer'
friends!"

Breaking their forced hold, Dash asks, "Is this true,
Peter? Are you falling for this guy?"

"For God's sake, Dash, Dil and I just met..." Then as
matter-of-factly, Peter says, "I could be..."

Then Dash turns on Dil.

"Is this true, Dil? Do you like Peter..."

"Well, I..."

"You know he's a lot of work... you have to launder
and cook and clean and..."

"Yo! Time out!" Peter yells out, his hands making the
`T' signal, as if playing sports. "Don't you remember
that just this past week, Dash, I did the laundry and
tried to cook dinner?"

"Tried to cook dinner?" Nick asked.

Dash says, "Yeah, big deal. He took some frozen pizza
out and nuked it."

Suddenly all the gleam goes out of Peter, as if air
from a surprise gutpunch.

Again, Dougie, the `outspoken one' says, "That's
right, Dash. Go ahead. Your bro did something for
himself `and' you, so go ahead and hit'em in the
balls!"

One of the patrons says, "Nice goin', kid."

Boone ventures to say, "He's right, Dash."

On one knee, Dash bent. His hand picked up the chin
that had been pasted up against Peter's chest. Boone's
hands remained on the sides of Peter's shoulders,
where they had been comforting him.

"Look, Dash, I'm sorry."

The two conversed.

"You know Doctor Hollis said there's a chance I might
gain back some feeling in my legs."

"I know."

"Well, I have to start getting around better. You've
done everything for me and now that I'm feeling up to
par... well, except for walking around, I've have to
get on with my life and so do you. I can't be the
millstone around your neck, holding you back, Dash."

"But I promised..."

"I know you promised mom, before she passed on and
you've done a great job. I'll be forever grateful for
everything you've done for me, Dash. I'll never be
able to pay you back."

"I'm not expecting that, Peter. We're brothers," Dash
gave the reasoning.

Their heads now close enough to the position lovers
take, the conversation became more hushed. Steve, Matt
and Nick returned to their beers. Dougie hopped off
his stool and closed in the gaps around the small
circle of guys.

"Hi, I'm Dougie Hazard."

"Boone Diggles," he offered his hand.

"I feel like I already know you. Your bro, Matt, has
told us about you."

"Good stuff, I hope."

"Mostly," Dougie kids.

Dil is sucked in to Dash's and Peter's conversation,
as Dougie and Boone pair off.

"Can I buy you a beer, Boone?"

"Are you legal enough to drink it, Dougie?"

"I'm only required to show my license to the
bartender, but you can take a look, if you want to."

"Nah," Boone shrugs it off.

With beers in hand, the two head back to the table Dil
and Peter once ate at. They watch Dil pushing the
handicapped chair in the direction of the restrooms,
Dash still on their trail.

"What do you think?"

"About what, Dougie?"

"Dash. He finally going to let go?"

"I think it'll happen in stages. A little at a time."

"You're right. I sure hope Dil and Peter hit if off."

"What's his story?"

"Who? Dil?"

"Yeah."

"He's had if tough, but is finally getting his life on
track."

Dougie didn't go into the fine details.

"Is he a student? What does he do?"

"Checking him out, are you?"

"I have an interest in Dash. I think... no, I know I'm
falling for him."

"And him?"

"He likes me... a lot..."

The two laugh, getting more into the friendship mode.

"Dil is an artist."

"Really? Cool! So is Peter, `cept he's not exactly
sure in which direction he wants to take his talent."

"Oh? How's that go, Boone?"

"Before the accident he threw pottery and had his
sights on setting up a studio, maybe teaching art, but
the accident changed all that."

Of course, Boone's statement turned to Dougie asking
all about the crippling accident. Near the end of the
heart-wrenching account, the three returned, all
freshend up.

"What's Boone telling you?" Peter asked.

Obviously, their demeanor spelled out the fact of the
matter.

Dougie lies through his teeth, "Oh, he's been telling
me how you've relied on your poor brother to have to
go through the trouble every night of spreading your
legs out on the bed and jerking you off. Dash, I
really feel bad for you man!"

%

"Oooooh...oooooh...oooohhh," Dario gasped, as he felt
his pubes get wet, his cock pump out whatever liquid
could squeeze through the confining wraps around his
balls.

"Ooooooooooooooaakkkkkkkkkkkkkkhhhhh!" Zek soon
followed, his semen shooting out in thin squirts. He
followed with, "This torture too much!"

"I'll say..."

After some labored breathing, the two mellowed out,
falling under the spell of sleep.

%

Looking around, James Whatley, the twenty-three year
old EMT, turned nurse, at the hospital staff
physician's request, spied around the room to make
sure no one was looking. Bending over Marat's sleeping
composure, he placed lips on his. As if Sleeping
Beauty coming back to life, Marat flicked his eyelids,
waking.

"Good morning, my love!"

"Wha-what time is it?"

"Is that all you can offer?" James stood up, backs of
his hands stuck to the sides of his torso.

"Oh yeah. Kiss me."

"How romantic!" James said. Then giggling, he bent
over, saying, "I guess I better take it while the
gettin's good!"

However, it became more than a quickie, as Marat found
favor in the sweet lip-lock, his hand going behind
James' neck, forcing them to linger more than a
moment.

"Ahem!"

Fighting to be released, James stood up, his face a
slight discoloration.

"Sorry to break up this sweet moment, but I need these
papers signed for Mr. Saint-Marc's release?"

Dr. Joubert, totally at ease with what he viewed,
stood there, watching James hold the paper, as Marat
signed off his `John Handcock'.

"James, I've made arrangements for your release from
the EMT squad, indefinitely and you are to accompany
Mr. Saint-Marc to my home to convalesce, until he's
fully regenerated."

Then it dawns on James, "Then what happens after that,
Dr. Joubert?"

"That's entirely up to you."

With his own thoughts, James says, "What happens
if..."

Dr. Joubert reads James' mind, "You'll be missed
around here, but I know you'll make a fine doctor. I
know many fine staff members at NYU and I'd be happy
to write any letters of introduction, based on my
experiences with you."

"Um, all my experiences, Dr. Joubert?"

Marat looks up from signing the papers.

"We'll leave out the non-professional matters!"

"You didn't tell me..."

"Ahem! Yeah, I'll fill you in later, Marat," James
catches him mid-sentence.

"I'll have an orderly bring a chair in and we'll have
you out of here. And James?"

"Yes, Dr. Joubert?"

"When you're in the pool, don't get his arm wet. Keep
blotting his arm when you're in the sauna and unless
you can keep his arm dry, I'd skip the hot tub for
now."

"Yes, sir!"

"And James?"

"Yes?"

"You `do' remember where the condoms are kept?"

"Really, `Francois', you're giving away all our
secrets!"

Dr. Joubert smiles, grabbing up the signed papers,
closing the door behind him, as he leaves.

"Is it true, James? Did you fuck Dr. Joubert?"

"We'll talk about it some other time, okay? Let's get
you up and into some street clothes."

Peeling back the sheet, he notices the edge of the
hospital garment nearly up to Marat's pecs, the
dark-haired, defined trail down his stomach, tiny
veins of follicles stretching outwards.

"Another mess for me to clean up!"

"Sorry, James. I couldn't contain myself."

"I know what you mean. Wet dreams can bring out the
best in a guy. C'mon, let's get you into the shower."

"I'm not an invalid, you know. I can...owwwch..oh..
oh..."

"What'd you say, Marat?"

"I said, `better help me into the shower."

"That's what I thought you didn't say!"

%

"Have you boys all kissed and made up?"

Steve, Matthew and Nick have arrived at the table with
Boone, Dash, Dil, Peter and Dougie roundabout it.

"We've made up, but we're waiting to have a fivesome,
for the kissing," Dougie replies in his usual smart
alec fashion.

"I'm afraid you won't be seeing anything but a twosome
tonight, Douglass" Nick pulls Dougie, forcing him up
out of the group of five.

"I think I can settle for that."

Steve opens the conversation back up with, "Nick has
invited the five of us to stay at the Joubert mansion,
if that pleases the rest of you?"

"I'm not sure," comes out of Dash's mouth.

"I think it's a good idea," Peter directly
contradicts, with a smile.

"Yeah. Okay," his brother concedes.

Getting up from the table, Dash purposefully neglects
to gather the handles of Peter's handicapped chair.

"Hey, what about me?"

"You've got Dil. What do you need me for?"

Of course, Dash's remarks had been meant in a
satirical manner.

He closed, before walking out, "Get used to it, Dil!"

%

"What the fuck is this? Who gave you permission to
cum?"

It's strange, even though virtually having their pubes
tied together, how Zek and Dario each felt the other
shutter, at hearing Reinken's bellowing voice of
disapproval. Reinken took off both blindfolds. The
first thing Dario and Zek did is look down their
chests, over their stomachs, to peer at their messed
up pubes.

"Oh shit!" Dario called out, seeing his cock, all red,
even though drenched in his self release.

Zek didn't say anything, but Dario watched his eyes
open as wide as saucers, gazing at his hairy pubes,
his almost purple balls showing through the massive
amounts of black pubic hair.

"You untie the other slaveboy and then get in the
shower. I want you out here in ten minutes. Got that
boy?"

"Yes, sir," Zek replied. Then Zek, changing his
demeanor, shying away from the `boy' attitude, asks,
"Reinken?"

He got a dirty look in return.

Sitting up, as Zek untied his hands, Dario cautiously
says, "I think what Zek is going to say is... well, I
don't think this bdsm stuff is for us. I mean what
just happened is kind of erotic, but..."

"Too much pain for me," Zek, "but I thank you for
trying it with me..." getting up from the bed, after
untying Dario, he continues, "it good experience!"

Smiling, not the evil smile he's capable of, Reinken
walks over to the mid eastern man. Placing a hand
behind his head, the German reels him in for a kiss.

"Debt pain!"

"Um, don't I get paid, too?"

Dario didn't receive that kind type of payment.

"Owwwwwwwwch! That was fuckin' dirty!"

Reinken now smiled the evil way, after swatting the
head of Dario's dick. Not paying much attention, he
left, closing the door, just in time to miss the
pillow being thrown at him.

"Now we clean up?"

"Yeah. Come over here?"

"What?" Zek inquires, standing at the side of the bed.


Taking Zek's hand, the Italian-Latino gives a pull,
wanting him to take the hint to kneel on the bed.

"Your balls still hurt?"

Zek feels his own balls up, replying, "A little."

"They still look awfully sore, if you ask me."

He doesn't give Zek the chance to decipher for himself
the condition of his big, red orbs. Lifting one of
them, he licks the hairy ball sac.

"That feel real good."

"C'mon. Lie down."

"What you do, Dario?"

"Get you cleaned up?" Dario replied, as he exchanged
places.

Hovering over Zek's pubes, Dario lay down between his
out-stretched legs. Again, lifting the hairy ball sac,
he licks. Then licks again. After two more times, he
stuffs it in his mouth.

"Oooooooooooh that feel very good!"

%

"This is `some' place!"

"Yes it is, Marat. That it is. C'mon. Let's go inside.
I'll show you around."

Wondering about the second chapter of James' life,
Marat allows himself to be helped from the car that
had been sent to the hospital to pick him up and
brought out to the Joubert estate.

"I'm dying to hear all about you and the doc, James."

"In good time. How about a swim?"

"I just got out of the shower."

"Oh. Right."

"But, most likely my friends are out by the pool, so
if it's okay?"

"Sure."

Only his friends? To Marat, it looked like the entire
stock of Timber Creek had been invited to stay at the
mansion. Spied entering the pool area, Mac and Ron
cheered, running towards the two.

"Oh my!" Marat said, his French accent beaming
through.

More than glad to see his friends, he watched with
keen eye, waist level, the two eighteen year old
jocks, jogging to him, their jewels bouncing all
around. As more of his friends spotted him, more
bouncy-bounces occured, resembling a keenly
coreographed dance of sorts.

Marat said out of the corner of his mouth, "This is
making me hard."

"You're not the only one," James told him back.

Looking down, to his left, Marat spied what looked
like Jame's sausage getting ready for a feast.

"You better hide that thing til I can take care of
it."

Not being in the limelight, James ducked to the side,
his hand reaching in his pocket to make some
adjustments. No such luck for Marat though and it was
noticable.

"Shit! Marat really missed us. Look at this, Ron!"

"Will you fuckin' cool it, Mac?" Marat said, brushing
his hand off his crotch.

Of course, it became the joke of the hour, others
catching on to the bulge in Marat's pants. After some
chit chat and `how are you doing?', the gang returned
poolside or in it.

"Ready for me to take care of that, James?"

"Oh no you don't. I'm here to take care you and don't
you forget it!"

"Yeah, I know. When I'm better, I'll make it up to
you."

But for now, all that mattered to James is holding
Marat in his arms and delivering some sweet affection,
falling deeper into the spiral of deep love.

%

"You're heavy."

"Here, let me help," Peter says, flicking the switch
on the side of the chair.

Dil stands there, watching him whiz away, under
battery power.

"Why didn't you do that before?"

While Nick and Dougie helped Steve, Matt, Boone and
Dash gather their remnants from the hotel, Dil and
Peter had some fun in the lobby.

"Careful!" Dil yelled out.

"Oh shit! Almost killed that coffee table! I don't
rightly have the hang of this yet."

"Looks like fun."

"Believe me, it's not. I'd rather be.... never mind."

Dil could see he put a downer on the fun they had.

"Sorry there, Peter."

"It's okay. No harm meant. The way I figure it, you
have to get used to me being like this... I mean...
Damn!"

"What's the matter, Peter?"

"Here I am talking like you're going to be there for
me."

"I am... aren't I?"

"I don't know. We just met. I'm talking like we... you
know."

"Peter?"

"Yeah, Dil?"

"Why don't we make... make a pact."

"A pact? How would that go?"

"Well, we're going to be together til... when is it
that Steve is going back to New Jersey?"

"Another few days. He called and can take some
vacation time."

"Fine. While we're together, let's see where it goes."

"That's cool, Dil and no hard feelings if we don't
work out?"

"Exactly what I was thinking."

As Peter watched Dil, going to help the others with
their luggage, a warm, melancholy moment began to
emanate from his inside being. `Dammit, this better
work out!', he demanded of himself, watching the
blond, blue-eyed twenty-two year old run to give
hands. `I need a... no, I deserve a break.'
Reminiscent of Scarlet O'Hara's performance, right
before intermission, her reference to raising up Tara
from the ashes, Peter, not a religious guy, pleaded
with God to make Dil his own. His plea to God, to make
Dil the happiest of men, he swore with crossing the
heart-side of his chest.

%

To Be Continued.....

Copyright 2006  T. Chase McPhee
This story may not be sold or made part of any
collection without prior written permission.