Date: Sat, 4 Feb 2006 06:17:34 -0800 (PST)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: Muscle Jocks For Domination 12

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 depict, nor 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. This is fiction. Do not
forget, in real life, to think about 'sexual safety
matter'; got condom?

"Muscle Jocks For Domination"  12
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
%  A reader complained they didn't like this...
         who doesn't like `cock and balls'?

%

"Hey, what happened?"

"Would you believe the white tornado came through
here, Steve?"

"Looks it."

"Um, Rajjie all walked and taken care of?"

"Yep. Good little pup too. Before I got him upstairs,
he was asleep in his little bed. See?"

Matt looked to Steve's gut, where the huge, fabricated
oval contained the breathing furball.

"Asleep, Steve? I figured you would want to read him a
bedtime story."

"Nope. Saving that for you, Matty!"

"Me? Read Rajjie a bedtime story?"

Steve pushed by Matt, purposely grazing his obliques
with his elbow, to set the lux dog bed down near the
dresser. To Matt, the hairy forearm didn't feel half
that bad, neither.

"So, what did you do with all the stuff lying around
here?"

"Most of it had been dirty clothes. I think we need to
turn the bath tub into a hamper."

"Nah. I'll take care of it sometime next week."

"No, I meant to fit everything that was dirty. Um, you
don't happen to have a clean set of bed sheets, do you
Steve?"

"What's wrong with these? I changed them last month."

"Last month?" Matt made a coughing sound, as if the
bed had a toxic odor.

"Hey, I take showers. Only my clean body has been in
that bed."

"Only yours, Steve?"

"Yeah, why?"

Closing in on the body builder, Matt says, "Do you
mean for the past month no other man has been in your
bed?"

"For that matter, the past few months."

Steve suddenly realized Matt's insinuation.

"Oh. Well... a few private jerk offs, if that's what you
mean," Steve replied, concerning the artistic stains.

"Oh, so you do have a boyfriend?"

Matt's hopes dashed.

"No. I mean hanging out at the gay bar. That type of
dating."

"One night stands that didn't amount to a night in
bed?"

"Like I said, Matty. Been saving my....."

Recalling earlier this evening, Steve begins cursing
Ian out.

"I can't believe I let the fuck take my ass! Dammit! I
hope Jim gives it to him good!" Steve chides, putting
his hands on the dresser.

He slaps both hands down, as if it would help
dissipate the anger. Matt, still in the buff from TV
time, closes in behind him. Placing his hands first on
Steve's shoulders, he moves them quickly down, over
his delts, then around his sides, making a connection
by engulfing his worked body in a hug, neck to navel
and beyond.

"I don't mind that your cherry is `took', Steve.
Really I don't. Does it really matter other than you
think that some guy has stolen your pride?"

"Not now it doesn't, but I figured if I ever met a guy
that I got serious about, it might mean something to
him."

Already, Matt had his lips to Steve's neck, his quads
pressuring Steve's glutes, the latissimus-to-obligues
hold, giving him lite kisses. The only part that
didn't seem, `natural', was Steve's clothing.

Whispering in his ear, Matt continues, "Like I said,
Steve, it doesn't phase me. What's been done, is done.
It wasn't your fault. I hope you're not blaming
yourself. Guys like Ian are all around, ready to
pounce on the virgins. It's like a goal to them, to
take as many cherries as they can."

"That's how it is, Matty?"

"I know. I was a victim, too."

It then dawned on Steve what Matt tried to convey to
him for the past five minutes. By letting Ian's rape
get the best of him, he it put past himself the
feelings of warmth bestowed upon him. Smiling to
himself, Steve raised his arms, turning, then let them
fall behind Matt's back.

"About time you came around, Steve."

"Yeah. I suppose I didn't know a good thing, when it's
staring me right in the face."

"Or the back of the head?"

The two kissed sweetly. As Matt held Steve, his hands
slowly eased underneath the tee shirt, feeling up his
delts, then latissimus, hands dropping down his spine,
to Steve's glutes.

"Nice."

"Like the shape of my glutes, huh, Matty?"

"Not sure, Steve."

"Oh? And how would that go?"

"What do you think, Steve? Here I am in the buff and
you're still covered up."

"Oh that... I can remedy that real quick."

"Allow me," Matt gave him the lowdown.

While Matt swung the tee shirt up, over Steve's head,
then lowered the Nike sweat pants, letting them gather
at Steve's ankles.

"Don't tell me you're going to leave them there,
Steve?"

"Nah. I'll pick them up tomorrow," he replied with a
wry smile, followed by bending over.

Matt thought, `what a hot back'!

"And what Happens if I trip over then in the middle of
the night?"

"Never thought of that, Matty. Damn, Raggie might trip
over them!"

"I guess I know who's number one around here."

"Don't take it so personal," Steve let his finger
tease Matt, like pointing midchest and letting it
slide down his blonde pelt, all the way to his
bellyhole.

To bed, the two reported.

Lying on his side, elbow to the pillow, hand smoothing
out the hairy inner obliques, Steve says, "You know,
Matty, I don't think it's cool that we shave this."

"But the treasure trail... like yours, Steve?"

"Hey, just because we're both blondes, doesn't mean we
have to have matching bodies, does it?"

"Matching? Not by a long shot Steve."

"Oh? And how does that go?"

Time for Matt to bowl Steve over onto his back. Unlike
Steve, he sat up, their cocks matching, crossing each
other as if the family coat of arms.

"Ooooooh that feels hot," Steve cooed.

"Not my point, muscle jock. The point I'm trying to
make is. Well, look at this body fat."

Matt looks down at his own body. Taking a pinch of an
inch, or more, he gathers up some body fat. The other
hand goes to Steve's external obliques. Gathering up
the mimalistic amount of body fat, making a
comparison.

"See? What did I tell you?"

As if van Gogh, painting an abstract, Matt further
examines each other, finger-painting  along the edges
of Steve's chiseled pecs, swiping the buffalo nickels.

"Ooooooh, you're making me so horny. Are you doing
that on purpose, Matty?"

Continuing his observation, comparing chests and
stomachs, Steve's interests lie farther from Matt's
designations.

"Maybe if you shaved a trail down my abs, I could look
more like a muscle jock body. What do you think,
Steve?"

With a grin, Steve grabs Matt in the hairy arm
pockets, slapping him down on his pecs, lips
proceeding to capture the moment. Of course, it also
causes the coat of arms to strengthen family ties.

Breaking off the sweet gesture, first thing out of
Steve's mouth is, "Shaving your stomach isn't going to
cut the body fat. It takes hard work."

"Yeah, but..."

"You need to work out at least 4/7, Matty."

"Yeah, but right now I can't get to the gym. I told
you that... I'm poor and..."

"I know what you said," Steve gazed into the baby
blues, "and for now I can get you into the gym at
Advantage after hours. We can work out together."

"That'd be cool. Thanks."

"As for this body fat?"

"Heeeeey. Stop that!" Matt tries to avoid the
tickling.

Grabbing up a good portion of stomach, Steve treats it
more like goosing a chicken.

"Ticklish there, eh?"

"Cut it out, Steve!" Matt replies, jovially, trying to
squeamishly work his bod out from under his bedfellow.

Side by side, Steve asks, "How much do you snitch at
Pazzo's?"

"Not much. A little here, a little there."

"Quality eating habits?"

"Okay, so it's not the most balanced, but it's cheaper
than shopping the food market and it's already
prepared."

Then, slapping his head against the pillow, arms
behind his head, Steve tortures Matt with his golden
armpits.

"There's a position opening end of next week in the
mail room, if you want it?"

"Doing what?"

"Delivering pizza! What do you think it is, doofus?"

Steve's reward is a back hand to his abs.

"Owch!"

"Oh c'mon. That didn't hurt," Matt replied.

Turning on his side, Matt's hand returned to the pink
mark on Steve's stomach. A finger traced the lines
representing his six pack, deviating in and out of the
chiseled, dark blonde trail and smooth flesh.

"Are you trying to seduce me, Matty?"

"Is it working, Steve?"

"What do you think?"

His torso falls over onto Steve, grinding his cock
into Steve's quads.

Reaching below the waist, to Matt's privacy, Steve
says, "Now there's one hard-worked muscle group!
Uh-uh, no body fat there... except..."

Cupping the two orbs, rolling around in the sea of man
juice, began to slow down Matt's metabolism, but speed
up the heart rate, as he fell back into the pillow.
Reciprocating, Steve began feeling up Matt's pecs, but
not with hands. Plastered against the bed, as if doing
a pushup, Steve leaned his mouth in to lick over the
lightly covered pec-hair. Much like his own, blonde,
but lighter in color, swabbing the flat of his tongue
up mid-chest, then to his left, not looking, the
sensitivity of the tip of his tongue found the little
nublet. Leaning his 202 pound, muscular body against
Matt's 195 pounds of mixed fat, he lay his stomach
down. This afforded him to free up his left hand,
which gravitated in a southerly direction.

"Hmm... pumping iron, I see?"

"Whatever...." Matt said quietly, not thinking.

Sensing that Matt had fallen under his spell, Steve
continued the soft assault, releasing Matt's 8c and
forging ahead with his combat moves. Their first time
together, in bed, Steve already picked up on Matt's
nips as number one pleasure spots. No matter if he
ever-so-lightly touched the sensitive niplets with the
tip of his tongue, or gave him a harsh pec treatment
of teething the tender nubs, they responded in the
same shaft-throbbing manner. In an effort to trash
Matt's thoughts of shaving the hairy paunch, he went
to wild mode, licking from rib to rib, finding his own
turn on to the body hair.

He stopped, mid-lick, to mention, "Yeah, we've gotta
get this four pack in shape," fingering the minute
traces of lines.

"Ooooooooooh!" Matt let out a groan of pleasure, when
Steve's finger dipped into the deep bellyhole.

"Hmm... pleasure spot number three?"

Not expecting a verbal answer, Steve, now kneeling,
his cock and balls hanging out to the wind, bent his
chin stubble down towards Matt's abs. His tongue
immediately dove into the deep stomach recess. It
wasn't only Matt groaning in ecstacy, but Steve found
a charge out of finding out how sensitive his tongue
could be, licking at the follicles of belly hair that
entered the bellyhole, then formed more of a trail
below, leading to the soft pubes. Handling Matt's
nips, he tried teething around the navel lip,
eliciting groans of merriment. Feeling his own his own
cock twitch, his hand reached down for a quick stroke,
which drew out it's honey treat.

Going for his own lips, his bedtime partner, asks,
"Bedtime snack?"

Almost on the tip of his tongue, Steve smiles,
offering it up. As if doing a crunch, Matt accepts the
gooey treat.

"Mmmm.... Got any more?"

Holding his 8.5c in his hand, so it doesn't scrape
along Matt's hairy body, Steve transports himself in
slow motion. His ass crevice planted on the hairy
pecs, he leans his cut tool, seeping from the honey
jar, to Matt's lips.

"I had the impression it was going to go the other way
around."

"Huh? Don't get you there," Matt pauses for a
`slime-break', "Steve."

"Lubing up my cock?" Steve presents it like he's
testing Matt's IQ.

"You do me first, then I'll do you. Okay?"

"Fine with me."

Steve also makes note that Matt's destined for greater
things than sorting mail!

"Mmmmm," Matt groans.

Leaning forward, hands braced on the headboard,
Steve's honeyvine leans further into Matt's mouth.
Swinging his head to one side, the hard shaft pulls
out.

"I think it's lubed up enough. What do you think,
Steve?"

"I was thinking that five minutes ago!"

%

Continued.....

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