Date: Mon, 14 Jan 2008 21:10:38 -0800 (PST)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: ROAD TRIP  fireworks

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, nor governmental areas,
which the story is stages. If a sexual scene involving
male-to-male relationships offences 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.

ROAD TRIP  fireworks
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

When it came time to sort out the guest rooms of the
Torricelli mansion, Anthony put Tino in the `Wright
room', furniture imitating the style of Frank Lloyd
Wright, windows in his style of stained glass,
replicas of the artist's lightscreens and glass window
panels, a small 8x12 one an original, purchased by
Anthony's father.

When it came to the four post bed, tall wooden columns
rising almost to the ceiling, Tino rubbed his hand
over the pine, saying, "Could be fun..." taking
Anthony's  right wrist, moving it in place to an
imaginery cuff attached, the other arm, raising it
high to the left stantion, Tino's chest inches from
Anthony's as his hands held two wrists in place. For a
moment, Tino stood there, serious as all hell, his
face inches away.

Taking it as affection over bondage, Anthony pulled
his wrists from Tino's grasp, saying, "Who knows...
maybe someday you'll get your wish!"

Turning to face Anthony, who escaped from his
temporary bondage, Tino states, "Could be... maybe
you'll get your wish too, huh Anthony?"

Standing there, Tino watched Anthony close the door,
walk back to him. They stare for a moment, Anthony
saying, "What be your pleasure sir?" Both smiled, with
Anthony's hands already at work unbuckling Tino's
belt. Their gazes froze in place as the sound and
feeling of Tino's zipper was dragged downwards. First
Anthony, then Tino looked downwards, at the bulge in
Tino's 2xist, black lowrise briefs.

"Looks appetizing", Anthony said as he peeled the back
of Tino's jeans off, allowing light to illuminate his
rounded torso, revealing partial view of the Latino's
balls. Obviously, the black cotton/poly fabric wasn't
large enough to hold its contents.

"Nothing like a before dinner treat," Tino drove him
on, a hand to Anthony's shoulder for unnecessary
encouragement.

Caving in, Anthony sunk to his knees. Reaching into
Tino's briefs, he emerged with Tino's 9.5c. As Anthony
tasted, Tino's head fell back with a low moan. In
minutes he was moaning out loud, "Yeah... oh yeah..."
and then with more emphasis, "Ooooooh fuckin' yeah!"
After calming down, he lifted the elastic waistband,
removing his cum-greased hand, commenting to himself,
"What a fuckin' hot day dream... oh man... if only it
could be real!"

He picked up his jeans halfway and waddled into the
private jon for cleanup.

"Um, am I disturbing... anything?"

Standing there with his jeans at his ankles, his 2xist
briefs lying on top, toilet tissue in one hand, his
cock in the other, Tino was about ready to mop up.

"I'll just be a minute," Tino said to Jorge.

"Would be a shame to waste all that protein," Jorge
observed, with a smile.

Instead of dabbing his pubes, Tino used the tissue to
clean up his hands. Even that became a useless effort
as Jorge took Tino's hand in his, leaned over and
placed Tino's thumb in his mouth. As if savoring a
messy candy bar, Jorge sucked and licked it clean.
When he dropped his head back, this time Tino had to
awaken to his senses to make sure he wasn't going
through another `wet day dream'. This time when he
placed his hands on a head of hair, it was real.

He wasn't the only one feeling immense pleasure, as
the twenty-three year old was forced to coat his teeth
with his lips to keep from scratching Tino's hardened
shaft. Twice he almost gagged when the head of Tino's
cock got too close to going down his throat. Something
else drove Tino onwards, Jorge's hands circulating
over his rounded ass, fingertips teasing his hairy ass
crevice. As minutes passed, Tino reveled in the expert
cocksucking, eventually placing his hands on his
torso, allowing Jorge to carry on solo. He only
returned his hands when he was coming close, working
his hips as if dancing at a club, in the finale,
holding Jorge's head still, to shoot his second load
down Jorge's throat.

"Oh fuck was that hot!" Tino boasted as his ass fell
to the rim of the rather wide tub.

Seeing Tino sweaty, his hair straggly, Jorge comments,
"You're really a mess, you know?"

"Only me?" Tino says, looking up, a hand wiping precum
from under Jorge's nose and slightly gummied stache.

Not giving Tino the opportunity, Jorge took his hand
and licked it clean. He sat there watching Jorge lean
to the head of the tub, turning on the two handles,
allowing hot and cold to intermix, stopping the drain
for filling. He looked at his feet, at first to see
Jorge lift each leg, first untying and removing his
boots, followed by jeans and briefs. Pivoting on his
bareass, Tino swung around, allowing himself to slide
into the tub which looked big enough to accomodate a
duo or more.

"Ahhhhhhh," he sighed, letting the water seep up to
his pecs.

"How's the temperature?" Jorge asks.

"Not quite hot enough!"

After saying it, Tino sat up, grabbed the front, right
pocket of Jorge's destroyed jeans and propelled him
forward. There was nothing to use as a counterbalance
to keep himself from moving straight ahead, so all
Jorge could do was step over the tub wall. Clothes and
all, Jorge sloshed into the tub. Catching him under
the pits, Tino had no problem letting the offguard
victim fall forwards, right onto his submerged bod.
Still with surprise was Jorge when Tino forced their
lips together, but being a willing victim, moved his
hands into place, forming the caressing position. At
this point  Jorge could care less that his shirt,
pants, socks and sneakers were soaked through and
through.

%

"What ya got to eat?"

Looking up from what they are doing, Roberto calls
out, "Oh Anthoneeeeeeee!"

"What?" He answers Roberto, appearing from the pool
with nothing on, usual swimgear. "Oh hi guys," he says
to the fifteen swim jocks, plus Mario, standing there
in shorts, muscle tees and tank tops, a few in their
Applegate hoodies.

"Did you forget something sweetheart?"

Scratching his head, Anthony replies, "Like what?"

Right away the guys start to weasel their way past
Anthony, in the direction of the pool, Robbie Sinclair
calling out, "Good time to make a getaway before the
fireworks start!"

Of course the swimjocks roared with laughter, some
with hands over their heads, stretching behind their
backs to reach their shirts, peeling them over their
head. Some fidgeted with belts. Mario, thought it a
cool time to break the ice, maybe help Anthony out,
saying, "Nice of you to invite me..." then looking to
Flip, "...us, to the pool party."

Coldly, but not too seriously, Roberto says, "Yeah,
nice of Anthony to invite the gang over without a
crumb of food to eat!"

Right now, Mario wasn't paying much attention to the
couple's squabble, but more to Anthony's `swim-gear'.
One to notice, Flip manhandles Mario, saying, "C'mon.
I'll show you where the `changing' room is!"

Flip couldn't make heads nor tales of what Mario was
saying, but could have been equivalent to the
`died-and-gone-to-heaven' phrase, as he gazed on
fifteen swim-jocks, stripped to the buff, frolicing in
the pool or making out poolside.

Reading his thoughts anyway, his eighteen year old
companion theorizes, "I wonder what the guys will
think when they see you!"

"You mean we're..." he gulped, "swimming like `in the
buff'?"

"Last one in the pool gets to suck cock!" Flip yells.

Right there in front of him, not that he hasn't seen
it before, Mario watches Flip hastily undress himself.
He smiles, seeing Flip tear his muscle shirt up and
over his head, arms stretching out the fabric of his
bod, isolating every muscle in his chest and stomach.

"Well?" Flip asks, an evil grin on his face as a hand
fondles cock and balls, releasing them from
`crushed-crotch' syndrome.

Smiling, Mario says, "I guess I lose."

"Like you didn't plan it?"

"Only one thing..."

As Mario turned and ran to the pool, fully clothed,
laughed his ass off, yelling, "last one in the pool
sucks cock!"

Flip trailed behind at a losing pace.

Looking down over Tino's shoulder, Barry didn't mean
to `spy', but a hand in lap, fingertips roaming the
length of his hard shaft, it was just too tempting a
sight. Being there wasn't a guy about, except himself,
Barry stood behind, his head following Tino's head as
it bobbed up and down to the rhythm of the guy on the
diving board, before splashing head first into the
pool. Finally he gave himself away with a fake cough.

"Have a seat, Barry," Tino said, not flinching a
muscle, except his hand muscles, already engaged.

"How'd you know it was me?" Barry said, coming around
the front of the two Adirondack chairs, parking his
ass in one.

"Reflection in the tankard?" Tino replied, a smile on
his face as he used the silvery ale container,
pointing it directly at Barry's face.

"Oh," Barry replied, seeing a facsimile of himself
with slight distortion. Then with all possibilities
pointing towards the fact he was spying on Tino's
crotch, he guessed the reason for the fingertip
stroking, confronting him, "I guess it's Jorge making
you hard, huh?"

"Actually he and another guy I find extremely hot!"

"Who?" Barry questions, wondering which of the
assorted swimmers it could be.

"Promise you won't haul off and slug me?"

Barry smiled, knowing the answer, instead asks, "It's
Robbie, huh?"

Momentarily halting the massaging action, Tino
replies, "Not angry are you?"

"Nah. Not really. I'll take it as a compliment. I mean
I know he's the hottest guy on campus." Then,
wandering around on assumptions, "I can't believe the
hottest stud on campus is liking a nerdy guy like me."

Smiling, Tino forgets about keeping his cock rigid,
asking, "Tell me something Barry, do you think your
brother is `hot'?"

"I don't go there. We're friends. We don't do any of
that sex stuff with each other."

"I wasn't implying, if that's what you were thinking.
What I meant is do you think Larry is nerdy?"

"Heck no. He's a really cool guy plus he's always
taken care... of... me...." Noticing Tino back at
stroking up his cock, keeping it hard, he noticably
stares, asking, "Um, you're not getting hard because
of me are you?"

Dripping wet, Tino turns away from Barry just in time
to catch view of Robbie's nude bod standing there.
After hearing part of the conversation, he quizzes
Tino, "Um I hope you're not getting hard over my
boyfriend."

Maybe yesterday Robbie played the submissive bottom
but now he held the reins, towering over Tino.

Not meant to get Tino into trouble, Barry responds, "I
guess so. I mean before Tino was stroking himself
while looking at Jorge and you, so..."

"Jorge and me? Is that so?"

Dropping his engourged meat on the white slats of the
Adirondack chair, Tino looks up and completely changes
the subject, saying, "Y'know when you're mad you
resemble a hot master I once knew?"

Hands switching to hips, Robbie tells Tino, "Don't con
me, Tino. I'm not moved by you watching me, but when
it comes to jerking off over my lover, I think that's
totally wrong and..."

Doing a pushup, his hands lifting his bod out of the
deep end of the slanted wooden chair, Tino comes face
to face with Robbie, saying, "Looks like you've caught
me red-handed there, Robbie."

"Huh?" Robbie surrendered his bold attitude, reverting
to a subtle questioning of Tino's motives. "I don't
quite get you."

Turning to Barry, Tino says, "Why don't you go and see
what's holding up on the food Barry. My stomach is
starting to growl."

"Okay," he simply said, hiking his ass up out of the
deep end of the chair, scurrying off towards the pool
exit.

"I don't lower myself to many men, but in this case I
think it warrants it."

"Lower yourself? Warrants it? What the hell you
talking about Tino?"

Looking about, Tino asks, "Why don't we take this over
to the cabana?"

Giving Tino the benefit of the doubt, Robbie followed
behind. For a moment he became susceptible to the
motion of two mounds of flesh, divided by a hairy
crevice, swaying back and forth to the rhythm of
Tino's steps. Entering the cabana, Tino closed the
door, wedging the towel cart up against it.
Immediately, he placed his hands behind his head,
lifting his elbows high, spreading his feet on the
cement flooring.

"What's this?" Robbie questioned, not oblivious to
Tino's big endowment hanging loose.

"C'mon. Take your best shot."

"What? Punch you in the gut so you can haul off and
kick my ass?" Robbie questioned. "Oh no. I'm not
falling into that trap. Besides, I don't think you
would `enjoy' being slugged in the gut. You're a
topguy, not a bottom."

Lowering his hands, coupling his arms in front of
himself, under his hairy pecs, Tino smiles revealing,
"You don't think us `topguys' occasionally get a kick
out of switching roles?"

"Hell, I don't know. This s&m stuff is kind of new to
me. I'm picking it up as I go along," Robbie replies,
wetting his lips as his attention darts from torso to
face.

Presenting it in a different light, Tino tells Robbie,
"Take my word. It happens." Then once again, Tino
raises his arms up, flashing his hairy pits,
repositioning his feet wide on the cabana floor.
"C'mon. Take your best shot."

"My best shot, huh?" Robbie replies. "Um, where do you
want it?"

"Right above the navel will do, but anyplace. Feel
free to make your own choice, `Master'!"

Going into the motions, Robbie was unsure. He's never
punched a guy in the stomach intentionally. Lifting
his hand, fist clenched tightly closed, he placed it
at Tino's navel, lifting it a bit to cover the
latino's abs trail. Robbie raised his eyebrows,
surprised at how tight the ripples of Tino's abs had
been worked into hard muscular layers.

"Whenever you're ready," Tino coaxed Robbie on.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Robbie questioned,
not sure himself he wanted to drive his fist into
Tino's third set of abs.

"Fuckin' do it!" Tino said, tired of waiting.

"Keep your cool man. I'm thinking about it." A smile
creased Robbie's lips.

Tino. picking up on it, smiled back when Robbie
returned his eyes to staring into his own.

Reading the `body language', Robbie guesses, "Looking
forward to this, are you?" At the same time, he leans
his tight fist into Tino's stomach.

"If you ever get around to fuckin' doing it!"

Bracing his left hand on Tino's right shoulder, Robbie
brings his arm back, his knuckles a good foot away
from the abs trail he's targeted.

"On the count of three," Robbie said, smiling as he
ordered, "count it out, `boy'."

It's rare Tino has bottomed for any guy, but it
wouldn't be the first time he's been dealt out an
order, so he replied to Robbie's order,
"One...Two...ughhhhh....oh fuckin' shit!"

"Oops! I didn't hurt you did I?" Robbie said, half
meaning it as Tino grabbed his gut with his folded
arms, bending over slightly.

"Dirty fucker!" Tino replies, catching up to breathing
naturally.

Smiling, Robbie suggests, "Okay. My turn."

This time it was Tino who was baffled.

"We never had our face off. Or would it be called
`punch-off'?"

Shortly, Tino recovered, standing up straight. If only
Robbie had been reading him right, but it wasn't the
case. "Think you've got me all figured out, do you?"

In the same position, elbows high, hands behind his
head, feet shoulders width apart, Robbie waits
eternally for a punch to his stomach. "Take your best
shot," he uses the same phrase for a hefty gutpunch.

With a smile from Tino, Robbie expected the same
fakeout upon hearing, "Count to three, `boy'!"

On the count of three, Tino allowing him to get that
far, Robbie tightened his abs, waiting for the punch
which never came. Totally freaked out, he protested,
"But...." Molded in position, he still braced himself
for a hefty punch to the abs. Instead he watched as
Tino sunk down to his knees, a hand taking his cock, a
warm mouth encasing it. Dropping his head back, Robbie
held the position upon feeling Tino's mouth
surrounding his 9.5c, a warm tongue massaging up and
down the barrel. Finally a sense of what was actually
happened came upon Robbie.

"Hey, I know I'm not exactly a good cocksucker, but I
thought I was doing a decent job," Tino said when
Robbie pulled away, dragging his cock off of Tino's
palate.

"Feels great only... I just feel like I should be
doing it to you," Robbie returned with a friendly
smile.

"No problem," Tino replied, a palm tapping on the
cement. "C'mon. Grab a towel or two."

Following Tino's lead, even though not sure of the
intention, Robbie picked up a towel sheet. He watched
as Tino lay it out on the cabana floor. Lying down on
his right side, Tino's bod rested on his right elbow.
"Only one thing to do when two guys want each other."

Scratching his head, Robbie didn't get it at first,
but it slowly sank in. After laying the white towel
out of the cement floor, he got down, lying face to
face with Tino.

"Um, how do you suppose I'm going to suck you off like
this?"

"You... you mean `69'?"

"Unless you know a better way," Tino replied
sarcastically.

Maybe he should have been selfconscious, but right now
all Robbie could think of is Tino's hard meat, nestled
in a haystack of dark pubic hair, two balls flopping
to one side as the Latino lounged on his side, waiting
for the mutual blowjob. Shifting his weight, he lay
down like Tino, on his right side, elbow propping him
up for a moment. "Ready?" Robbie asked, still not sure
why Tino was doing this, although `something' was
keeping his sucking opponent hard as a rock.

Without answering, Tino placed his arm around the
eighteen year old's thigh, drawing the lower half of
his bod towards his face. With imitation Robbie
copied, his left arm over Tino's left thigh. After
feeling a hand on his balls, supposing Tino used them
as a handle to feed himself, Robbie did likewise,
drawing Tino's hard shaft closer to his lips. In a
matter of minutes each enjoyed the eternal bliss
associated with mouths taking in cock, warm `wet'
adhering to dry stalks.

A couple of times they halted, mouths still clenched
around cocks of nearly the same size, only to continue
sucking and tongue-licking each other when the would
be intruder stopped trying entry into the cabana. Only
did one of them pull off the others cock when Jorge's
voice yelled out, "Tino, you in there?"

After swallowing a rather large amount of saliva, Tino
replied, "I'll be right out."

With acknowledgement, Tino resumed, Robbie picking up
the pace, feeling his cock being ridden by Tino's
lips, moving in and out with speed. Hastily, Robbie
did the same. Soon each were enjoying taking down the
other's load. After their proteins meals, both lay on
their backs panting furiously til their chests
subsided from raising and lowering out of sync with
each other.

As Tino got up, Robbie stare at him, both connecting
eyes as he said, "I can't believe you sucked me off,
Tino."

"Yeah well, it's between you and me," he replied,
dabbing the towel from the ground about his chest and
face.

"I've gotta tell Barry. We don't keep any...."

"When I said `you and me', I meant it. Okay?" Tino
sternly replied as if back in the master/slave
roleplay, in the master's role status.

"Sure. No problem," Robbie replied, sitting up as Tino
made his ways out of the cabana, swinging the towel
table away from the door.

Running through Robbie's mind he tried composing
himself, conscientiously willing himself in keeping
the secret.

%

2B continued...

Copyright 2008 T. Chase McPhee
This story may not be sold, nor made part of any
collection without prior written permission, by the
author.