Date: Mon, 13 Mar 2006 15:14:28 -0800 (PST)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: Muscle Jocks For Domination 25

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"  25
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

"So, you didn't feel a bit of jealousy, Rick?"

"I told you Steve. Max likes to play around. It's not
like he's in love with Sam, or anything. Same as when
he had you under his power yesterday, sucking his
cock."

"Yeah, I suppose."

Hauling their laptops and asses down the hallway, the
two chat.

"Last night I told Max that I've been considering his
offer about moving in with him."

"And?"

"I told him, 'yes' and don't make anymore snide
remarks about me getting ahead."

"I was actually, but instead of getting ahead, just
getting head?"

Both laughed.

"Hey Steve, how's it going?"

"Great Jim. What brings you out here?"

"Nobody's clued you in?"

"Oh yeah. Max did mention that Paul Vrabel and Chuck
Merritt have disappeared into thin air."

Rick adds, "Anything new to report, Jim?"

"Not a thing. It's like they've disappeared into thin
air."

"Check the airports?"

"Yes and the train stations, border. Nothing."

"Maybe they're holed up somewhere, waiting for this to
cool down."

"If that's the case, I'm sure they'll catch them when
they surface."

It then occurs to Steve to ask a question that has
slipped his mind,for their past few encounters.

"By the way, Jim. How's Ian doing?"

Standing there, a smile grips Jim's face.

"Well?" Rick provokes, wanting to hear the reply as
well.

"As of last night he started coming around. I really
should be thanking you, Steve. He's been a lot of fun
to play with."

"So, you've got him broken?"

"Not yet, Rick, but I tell you, I'm having a blast
with the challenge."

"So," Steve as curious as hell, asks, "How are you
doing it?"

Before Jim can get a word out, Josh interrupts, "Jim,
his royal hineyass will meet you in the executive
gym."

"My, aren't we the bold one?" Jim relates to Josh,
with a wink. "Later guys."

%

Back at Steve's the brothers' little blowjob has
turned into a mighty family reunion. Both stripped,
lay side by side, Boone's legs up near the headboard,
Matt's feet near the foot of the bed.

Popping off of Matt's 8c, Boone sighs, "I always loved
the taste of your cock, Matt."

Getting his dibs in on the conversation, his
twenty-four year old brother replies, "Yeah. One of
the highlights of growing up together."

Then, more on the nostalgia quirk, Boone sweeps his
feet down to the bottom of the bed, knees to knees,
chest to chest, stomach to stomach, hard and wet cocks
uniting.

"We do have a unique relationship, didn't we Boone."

"Matty," Boone inquires, pushing his brother's hair
from hanging down in his eyes, "when did we start
sucking each other?"

"I dunno. Maybe I was sixteen."

"That means I was ten."

"Thank the thundergods!"

Boone giggled. Matt, more in a fit of brotherly love,
caresses the eighteen year old, rubbing his cheek next
to his brother's. This led to a new swarm of kissing.

"Remember the first time I asked if I could suck on
your nips, Matty?"

"Yeah. Made me feel like I was in heaven."

"Bit your nip and you almost belted me!"

"It fuckin' hurt. What do you think my reaction should
be, Boone?"

"Hee hee.... yeah, but you got used to it."

Shrugging the idea aside, Matt giggled, confirming,
"Cock rules!"

"I can't believe that after that you made me suck and
bite your nips."

"I think my cock is calling for instant replay!"

"For real, Matty?"

Giving the okay for Boone, Matt cascaded, back hitting
the mattress. He placed his hands behind his head,
flashing his dark-haired armpits.

"Go to it, Boone."

"Cool!" Boone replied.

Making himself comfortable, he uprighted himself on
Matt's belly. As he set himself back, Matt's cock
found it's way to Boone's ass.

"You're hard already, Matty."

"Yeah. What are you going to do about it, little
brother?"

The toothy grin became as catchy as the plague and
soon Boone's hand, under his own ass, fished around
till it found Matt's stiff shaft. Starring at one
another, the guiding hand pressed the stabbing cock
towards it's goal.

"Still tight?" Matt asked.

Boone replied, "Nobody's ever fucked me, except you."

"Nice," Matt enjoyed the answer, as the head of his
cock began to seep into the eighteen year old's chute.

Slowly Boone's ass chute accepted his brother's tube,
sinking deeper and deeper in. Both moaned incessantly.

"Don't forget my nips!" Matt coerced.

"Oh, I wouldn't."

As if a centuries old ritual, Boone contorted his
body, keeping Matt's cock lodged in his ass crevice,
as he bent his chest and neck to gnawed on the ripe
little nubs. As he licked, sucked and nibbled on his
brother's nips, Matt slowly massaged his innards. As
both got into it, Matt increased the velocity of the
punch fucking, Boone eating away at the pectoral
treats. It didn't take long for both to reach orgasm,
Boone's 9c not even needing prompting, to shoot his
milky load between them, as Matt filled his brother's
ass chamber.
"Ooooh that felt sooooo, sooooo hot, Matty."

"Yeah... just like old times," the satisfied
twenty-four year old agreed.

Lying in each others arms, they drifted off.

%

"Hey," Jordan called out.

"Hey, yourself," Josh called out, turning around in
his swivel chair.

"You didn't forget about me coming over here after my
shift, did you, Josh?"

"Yeah, but it's damn not fair!"

"Oh? How's that go?"

"You're done with work and all I have is an hour to
workout."

"Mr. Courson, Sir, I think I can handle it."

"Who's he?" Jordan asks, quickly scanning the young
guy's physique.

"My replacement."

"You're replacement. You're not..."

With hands on Jordan's shoulders, as if to quiet the
hyperactivity, Josh relays, "Not what you think, babe.
I'm being moved up."

"Oh, I get it. Whew!" Jordan inquires, looking over
Josh's shoulder at the cute, young guy.

"Oh, here, meet Sebastien Bereau. Seb, this is my
boyfriend, Jordan."

"French, eh?" Jordan asks, shaking Seb's hand, adding,
"and you're cool with us being boyfriends?"

"As they say," Seb replies to the `gay' inquiry, "it
takes one to know one."

"Ready for some exercise, Jordan?"

"Um, sure," he replies, finally releasing Seb's hand.

With his Nike gym bag slung over his shoulder, Jordan
follows Josh out of the communications center,
glancing back over his shoulder, at Seb.

"Good looking guy, huh?"

"He's okay," Jordan relays back to Josh.

Making a quick look around, Josh says, "Wouldn't mind
taking his ass."

"What tha..." Jordan acts shocked.

"Got you worried there, did I?"

Nonchalantly, Jordan answers, "Nah. I know you're
joking."

"But Seb is a really nice looking guy, isn't he?"

"Wait. What are you getting at, Josh. If you want to
drop me and go after him, then let me get the fuck
outta your life now."

With that, Jordan marches off ahead of Josh.

"Hey wait there a minute, Jordan."

Josh catches the looped handle of the gym bag, hauling
Jordan backwards. Stopping him in his planned getaway.

"Look I'm sorry."

Turning around, Jordan asks, "Shit, Josh, don't do
that to me man.

Entering the gym, Josh bubbles over with apologies.
Entering the lockerroom, they turn to each other,
wiggling eyebrows. Straight in front of them, an ass
faces them, lingering at his locker.

"Can't decide on the red or blue shorts, Emilio?"

Turning towards them, Jordan's cock rattles like a
shock absorber. Not wanting to show his lack of self
control, he cautiously puts his hand in the pocket of
his khaki pants.

"This is my boyfriend, Jordan Soto."

It wasn't bad enough he had the visual picture in
front of him, but standing now, a foot and a half in
front of the Italian-Latino jock, shaking hands, sent
vibrations through his whole body.

"Um, real nice to meet you, Emilio."

As if sensing something, Emilio looks to Jock, both
getting the same vibes.

"He's just nervous, Emilio. His first visit to the
gym."

"Oh, I see."

Then, Emilio, the tease, holds up a pair each of red
and blue shorts.

"Which do you think I should wear today, Jordan?"

Getting wise to his humor, Jordan replies, "None?"

Not meant to embarrass, Josh says, "I think my
boyfriend likes your cock, Emilio."

Playing along, Jordan tells him, "Oh, much more than
your cock," eyebrows flutter.

"Mmmmm, maybe we can `69' sometime?"

"Get your own, Emilio," Josh replies to the
suggestion.

"Nice to meet you anyway, Emilio," Jordan says, as he
reunites with Josh, walking towards the back of the
locker area.

Softly, he tells Josh, "How can you stand it?"

"Self control."

As they continue on their trek, through the field of
naked, half-naked, dripping wet, towel-waisted men,
Jordan's neck is getting a lot of twisting action.

"So, you like Emilio?"

"I like `em all!"

Finally reaching the back corridor of the locker room,
Josh inserts a card, then opens the tall door.

"Nice," Jordan responds to the tech advancement.

"Which one?"

"I was talking about the card to access your locker,
doofus!"

"Oh. Yeah. I knew that," Josh lied.

"Hey Josh, how's it goin'?"

With his hospital scrub pulled halfway off, guarding
his front from view, Jordan drops the front to his
crotch.

"Wow! Nice pecs," the guy says to Jordan.

"Thanks, um..."

Smiling, Josh offers, "Michael, this is my boyfriend,
Jordan Soto."

"Great to meet you, Jordan," Michael offers a
handshake.

As the blonde, dressed in a towel around his waist,
shakes, Jordan's hand, the blue, uniform hospital top
swoops down his arm, till it hangs around his wrist,
revealing the Latino's patch, mid-chest, the dark
rings of brown hair around his nips, the defined trail
down his stomach, separating the pronounced inner
obliques. It's obvious that Michael's attention is
drawn to more than the quaint manner of greeting.

"Nice, um... Have I seen you here before?" Michael
asks, stuttering over his words.

Sitting there, his shirt stripped, now dressed in his
gym shorts, Josh reaches down to tie his sneaker
laces. Uprighting himself, he notices Michael has
fled.

"You like smooth guys?"

"What kind of stupid, fucking question is that?"

"I don't know. The way your eyes scanned his bod, I
figured..."

"Well you figured wrong, Joshua. Look, if you don't
want me to come here, I'll skip it. I'm not out to
pick up every guy, you know."

Throwing his deodorant stick in his Nike bag, he picks
up the scrub top.

"Hey, sorry. Okay?"

Gripping Jordan's wrist, keeping him from fastening
the twenty-eight inch bag zipper, Josh apologizes.

Reaching into his bag, retreiving his gym shorts, he
asks, "Should I wear the red shorts or the blue?"

"Why don't you check to see what Emilio is wearing?
You could be twins!"

"Smart ass," Jordan replies, stuffing the blue ones
back in his bag.

Donning tanks tops, the two head out for the gym. Once
again they meet up with Emilio and Michael.

"Same brand, no less?" Josh nudges Jordan, both
wearing their red shorts.

"The guy has good tastes," Jordan replies, regarding
the Nike shorts.

%

"Hot workout," Michael Metz compliments the calibur of
exercise equipment.

"Ready for a hot shower?"

Stripping off his sweaty muscle tee, Max Verraros
leads his guest to the shower.

"Just ditch your stuff here."

"Nobody's going to mess with them?"

"Executive locker room privileges. One of the boys
will come by and collect them. They know I leave my
stuff here."

"One of the boys, huh?"

Shrugging his shoulder, as he does a dance, to drop
his shorts from his calves, Max tells Michael, "Why?
You up for a blowjob?"

All it took is looking to his thirty year old guest's
face, taking in the big grin, to decipher the message.
Now totally in the buff, Max steps over to the phone,
dialing `0'.

"Where's Josh? Oh, I see. What's your name again? Yes,
Sebastien. Sebastien, page Rick Rhodes to dial you and
tell him I need him to see me in the executive gym?
Good boy," Max closes with.

"Rhodes?" Michael stands there, flaunting his bod,
fondling his crotch. "Isn't that the dark haired hunk
from the board room? The no limits guy?"

"That's him, but I didn't say he was `no limits'."

"Oh, don't you worry. I'll get him up there in no
time."

"You're talking like I'm surrendering him to you or
something, Michael."

"I thought you claimed you would share him?"

"Yes, but the way you're coming on here, it's like you
plan on owning him or something."

"Not a bad idea, but I won't do that to you Max."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"What?"

"Not being a bad idea, Michael?"

As they headed back to the shower, Max allowed Michael
to rub his hand over his shoulder blades.

"I haven't seriously trained a boy in a couple of
years. Thought about it though. Rhodes looks like he
could be a hot challenge, that's all."

"You're serious, aren't you?"

"Wasn't that your intentions, Max?"

"Yes... I mean no. Listen, we get together for some
roleplaying then lovemaking."

"I see."

The slamming of a door announces Rick Rhode's arrival.

"I wonder if that's him?" Michael asks.

"The maintenance boy isn't due for another half hour.
That's him."

"Shouldn't we go out and talk with him?"

"Nah. Rick knows by now to come in, strip down and
meet me here in the shower."

"So, you do have him trained."

Then to throw Michael off the subject, he suggests,
"Want to get on Rick's good side?"

"Huh? `Don't think I catch your drift, Max."

"He's expecting me, not you. How about standing by the
entrance to the shower. When Rick walks in, slam your
fist into his gut."

"Are you fuckin' serious?" Michael's eyes light up.

"Are you turning me down, Michael?"

"Hell no!"

Hustling towards the tiled opening, the 6'2", thirty
year old rubbed his fists, gearing up for the surprise
welcoming.

"Hey, you in here, Max?"

"Over here, Michael," Max replied, his eyes on
Michael.

Walking into the steamy room, Rick had no guess to the
welcoming fist.

"Ughhhhhhhhhhhhh!" He shouted out, doubling over.

"You okay?" came the voice, strange to Rick, hearing
it only once before.

"He's fine, aren't you Rick?" Max replied, now
standing with Michael, over the huddled figure.

Both helped Rick to his feet, coiling their arms under
his pits.

Then, to Michael's welcoming ears, he heard the
panting reaction, "Oh man was that a hot gut punch."

"And how do you thank our guest, Rick?"

"Thank you, sir."

"Damn! I've gotta have this boy!"

"Well, if it's okay with Rick, I'll shower and get on
about my business, while you two have some one on one
fun?"

"But what about the board meeting?" Then, in a more
giddy fashion, "Not that I would mind missing it
for... for some hot fun," Rick's palm made it a point
to rub his stomach.

"Have fun," Max replied, patting Rick on the back of
the shoulder.

After Max departs, Rick asks, "So, what do you want to
do?"

"Workover your hot body, train you to be my boy. Any
objections?"

"None, as long as it's safe and sane."

"And limits?"

As the talked about the rules, which amounted to
hardly any at all, other than using a safeword,
Michael studied the twenty-six year old's body. Steam
melted the hairy chest, giving it that wet look
appearance. The path separating his stomach looked as
if a trail of dark brown paint dripped down,
continually, till it reached his navel.

"Deep?" Michael asked, helping himself to sticking his
finger into Rick's bellyhole. "Oh yeah. love a deep
one to play with."

Rick's attention, keyed in to Michael's finger
pressing into his stomach, watched with intrigue.

"My navel? Never thought about it before."

"One of my favorite places to play, next to these."

Howling, Rick arched his back, as Michael's fingers
and thumbs latched onto the worked pecs, stretching
his nips.

"Akkkkk! Akkkkkkk...Akkkkkkkooooooh!"

"Yeah, we're gonna have lots of fun together. Gonna
turn you into my no limits pain-pig!"

Rick didn't object to the notion. Even though his arms
remained flexible, his hands free to stop Michael's
pectoral assault, he didn't fight him off, allowing
him to squeeze his nips as hard as he wished.

"Hands off the meat, boy!" Michael slapped away Rick's
hand, fondling his straight shaft.

"Sorry `bout that."

"You're gonna have to do better than that, `boy'!"

As with he and Max's play together, Rick realized he
had let the respect slide.

"Um, yes sir."

"You will be punished for your disrespect, boy."

"Yes, sir."

Rick sensed more of a threat, as opposed to his play
with Max, yet  it didn't deter him from accepting his
fate.

"C'mon. Let's get dressed and get outta here. We're
going to my place."

"Yes, sir."

While Rick reported to his locker, Michael picked up
the phone, dialing `0'. He had Max paged.

Over a speaker system, he heard, "Max Verraros dial
the executive gym."

Halfway across the building, in another gym, Josh
rings out, "Oh shit!"

"What's the matter?" Jordan asks, his body a mass of
sweat.

"Paging Max Verraros, is what's the matter!"

Springing up from the weight bench, Josh literally
drops the twenty-five pound dumbells, which make a
loud thud, as they hit the mat.

"Where are you going?"

"I just hope I get to Seb, before Max does!"

Hightailing it out of the gym, Josh puts his jogging
skills in first gear. Sweat flings off his bod, until
the AC begins the cooling down mode.

"Seb, what're you out of your tree?" Josh rains down
on the trainee.

"What'd I do?"

Suddenly Josh realizes that he's been a little tough
on Seb.

Opening the dividing glass between his station and the
next, he calls out, "Miriam, can you take over for a
half hour of so?"

Knowing it a directive and not really a question, she
complies, "No problem, Mr. Courson."

"C'mon," Josh tells Seb.

"You're... you're not firing me, are you?"

With a little smile, Josh replies, "No. I need some to
cool off and introduce you to the gym."

"But I don't have any gym stuff."

"I think I have a pair of shorts that will fit you."

Hastily, Josh ushers Seb through the empty locker
room, it's past inhabitants working out in the gym.

"Here, see if these will fit?" Josh hands Seb a pair
of gym shorts.

"Okay," the nineteen year old trainee replies.

In a turn of events, it's Josh that stands there, back
to the opposite locker, watching Seb remove the vest
sweater, tie and each button separating, at the shirt
opens up over Seb's chest.

Without reservation, Seb says, "I feel like you're
watching me," he looks up from his deed.

"I am," Josh replies, not holding back.

Then, with complete abandon, Seb says, "Would be nice
to see what you look like under those clothes, you
know?"

His two hands stop unbuttoning the fourth set on his
shirt.

"You would?"

Without further ado, Josh takes hold of the tales of
his sweaty muscle tee and rips it up and over his
head.

"Wow! You're so... so..."

"So what?" Josh asks, looking down at Seb's hands,
frozen in place.

"So muscular and..."

Before Seb can finish his observation, Josh steps
forwards, his hands replacing Seb's to unbutton his
shirt. Helping himself, Josh pulls open the nineteen
year olds shirt, baring his shoulders.

"Not so bad yourself, Seb." Then reverting to the
original queery," I'm muscular and what?"

"Hairy."

"Do you like hairy guys?"

"I like the way they look. I've never touched a hairy
guy's body before."

"What's stopping you?"

"Are you for real, Josh?"

"Help yourself."

Lots of things are running through Seb's brain,
clamoring for the number one reason why he should be
here at all confronting the hot bod; his boss and an
older guy, to name a couple. With bravery and daring,
he reaches out his hand, plastering it against the
sweaty chest, letting it slide down, his eyes
following.

"Wow!"

His own shirt off one arm, Josh brings it forwards and
removes it for Seb.

"Want to taste it?"

"What? Your body?"

"Yeah. Bet your dying to, aren't you Seb?"

His right hand still feeling up the sweaty, wiry hair
on Josh's chest, Seb licks his lips.

"It's okay?"

"Sure, as long as you don't mind the salt without the
pepper!"

A gentle smile coerces the teen. Leaning forward,
tongue extended, Seb bows his head. With a licking
motion, as if savoring a custard cone, he takes a
tastes.

"Ooooooooooh," the teen replies, his tongue tasting
the salty, sweaty follicles of chest hair.

He backs off.

"Like it?"

"Did you?" Seb turns the table.

Giggling, Josh pulls the waistband of shorts out and
looks down.

"Oh yeah. You better believe it, Seb!"

"Wow! How big are you?" Then realizing the nature of
the question, coinciding with the fact that he's asked
his boss how big his cock is, states, "On second
thought, I really don't need to know."

But Josh sees an even greater need.

"Interested in sucking me off?"

"Here?" Seb finally realizes they are in a public
place.

Snapping the elastic of his gym shorts, Josh replies,
"How about after work? My place?"

"But don't you have a boyfriend?"

"Yes. Boyfriend. Not lover or partner. Boyfriend, so
how about it?"

"I don't know. You're my boss."

"Not off of company grounds we're not."

"True."

"Nervous, Seb?"

"Kind of. I haven't been with many men."

Josh senses that being he's never been with a hairy
man, that his tricks have had their limitations.

"Fooled around in the dorm a coupla times?"

Smiling, Seb replies, "My first guy was in my freshman
year. I met with one guy this year, in the jon."

"So, I'll be number three. What do you say?"

"Josh, you coming back to the... gym?"

Both are surprised by Jordan's entrance.

"In a sec, Jordan. I was loaning Seb a pair of gym
shorts."

"Looks like he needs some help getting into them!"

"Help yourself," Josh says.

Backing off, he leans his bare back against the metal
locker.

"Easy, Jordan. You're only Seb's fourth guy!"

Approaching Seb, Jordan sinks to the floor, his knees
hitting the tiles. He proceeds to unbuckle Seb's
pants.

"I don't know about this," Seb replies.

"What?" Jordan looks up into the nineteen year olds
face. "This your first blowjob?"

"Is that what you're going to do? Suck my cock? Here?"

"He's right Jordan," Josh intercedes, "we could wait
till later at my place."

"Fuck that, Josh. You've got my tastebuds all horned
up."

He's not the only one, as Josh's hand descends down
his pants, brushing over his hairy, sweaty navel,
fingertips feeling up the wiry pubic patch, on his way
to his bulging cock. Meanwhile, with his pants at his
ankles, Jordan goes down on Seb's stick.

"Oooooooooooh!" The nineteen year old declares, taking
in the hot massage of his 7.5c.

Taking a mass of Jordan's mane in his hands, he pulls
hard.

"Owwwwch! What the fuck?" Jordan states, anger in his
voice.

"I need it bad," Josh smiles, then directs to Seb,
"Lay down on the bench," more an order than a request.

"What are you going to do?" Seb asks, a bit reluctant.

"Pleasure your lips."

Shucking his pants altogether, Seb complies, his back
against the wooden slab. Josh throws his leg over both
Seb and the bench, as if saddling up on a horse.

"Whenever you're ready," Josh tells Seb, as he eyes up
the long, thick piece of meat.

Behind him, he hears, "Damn! Don't know whether I want
Seb's hot cock or your hairy ass!"

However, Jordan picks to finish what he's started. His
whole mouth engulfs the teen cock. Closing his mouth,
he encircles the glan with his tongue.

"Oooooooooooh!" Seb sighs, arching his back.

With the opportunity of Seb's open mouth at hand, Josh
lunges down, his ass inches from Seb's chest. His cock
lays on his lips. Josh giggles, when Seb realizes
what's happening. His tongue makes contact.

"Take it in slowly," Josh instructs his trainee.

Slowly Seb allows Josh's cock to slide in his mouth.

"Swirl your tongue around the barrel, Seb."

"Um, excuse me sir?"

Josh turns his head, looking over his bare shoulder.

"I was wondering... if I might... get in on the
action?"

With the sounds of sucking, Jordan and Seb go right
about their business, even though Seb wonders who is
behind Josh.

Smiling, Josh replies, "Your choice, Emilio. Take
Jordan's ass or cock."

Popping off of Seb, Jordan informs, "He's not fucking
this ass!"

"Relax, Jordan. Emilio's a total bottom."

Even though he doesn't have to give out the
information, Jordan says, "Just don't want to leave
any means for misunderstanding that only you take my
ass. That's all."

"Why don't you put it in the company newsletter,
Jordan?"

However, he forgot about it, getting back to his tasty
treat. Behind him, the twenty-seven year old
Italian-Latino, pries Jordan's shorts from his hips.
Looking at the sweated muscle tee clinging to Jordan's
bod, Emilio feels something more than a quickie.
Reaching underneath the tee, his hands circle Jordan's
bod and began to feel up the obliques, the muscled
pecs.

"Oh fuck do I want you!"

Hearing that, Jordan pulls off of Seb. His cock has
already been begging for release. Getting up, he
forces Emilio to his feet. He tears his tee off over
his head, then sheds his red shorts.

"Loose the shorts," he dictates to Emilio.

Feeling up his own cock, his precum lathers up the
nine inch shaft. Laying down on the bench, he puts his
hands behind his head, spreading his legs, extending
the invitation. Straddling the bench, Emilio lifts the
muscled legs.

"What the fuck?" Jordan yells out, almost falling off
the bench.

"Sorry `bout that. Thought I would start by massaging
your ass muscle."

"You did, did you?"

"Yeah. Settle for a blow job?"

"Settle? And pass up a hot rim job?"

Emilio followed Jordan up the aisle of lockers.

"Hey, we still meeting at your place later, Josh?"

Turning from the luscious blowjob, Josh replies, "Yeah
and bring a friend," he winked at the two.

"Hell yeah!" Jordan replied, then as they neared the
towel table, he says to Emilio, "Gonna get to fuck
your ass twice."

"Only twice?"

%

25 Continued....

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