Date: Fri, 5 Nov 2010 16:59:25 -0700 (PDT)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: ?WTF??   03

You know the drill: 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, of continents or islands, in countries, counties, cities, towns,
villages, neighborhoods, streets, cul-de-sacs, nor governmental or
non-governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene
involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then why are you here?
Seriously, if guy-to-guy sex stuff makes you barf or is going to screw up
your mind, you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under
18 years of age, in most states 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.

"WTF?"  03

WriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

"Who is that talking to you in the background, Brad?"

Finding out it was Olav, the dude Brad knee'd in the balls in his garage
yesterday, Jase says of what's been explained so far, "After you hit him
between the legs, he's crazy enough to let you in his bed?"

Then, through the transmission of his cell phone Jase hears, `When are you
coming back to bed, Brad?', Brad replying, "When I feel like it! I'm
talking to my friend, so shut the fuck up!" Of course Brad was `feeling'
like it soon, standing there in the raw, one hand with his cell phone to
his ear, the other playing up his cock and balls. "So, what did your `rents
say when you kissed the waiter-dude?"

"My dad was livid. He as much accused the whole catering service as being
gay and you know what that means?"

Brad replies, "Yeah, like
waging Jihad. So, did his Christian buddies gang up on them?"

"I think they were more shocked. I'm sure they would have stood up for my
father, but there wasn't a need. By then the party pretty much was over, so
they packed it in," Jase reports. "I covered his ass with the bill."

Another thing for Brad to rant about, even though his hand was carrying
quite a load by now, seeing Olav in the bed, fully outstretched, hands
behind his head in a relaxed position. Last night his cock had first taste
dof the Russian's ass and now the eighteen year old was working up to
another hundred bucks, plus tip.  "And what about that Lance-dude?"

"Not much. He has my cell number, said he'd give me a call sometime," Jase
subtly replies.

"After he egged you on about kissing the waiter?" A little more into his
friend's problem, having turned away from Olav, "What tha fuck is that?"

Wanting it very much, Jase replies, "It's like...." he sees the time right
on his cell phone, "...only eight o'clock in the morning. I'm sure he'll
call."

Brad reacts, "Yeah, right! He's probably like me, in it for whatever he can
get out of you," meaning the almighty dollar.

"He's not like that!" Jase contradicts.

Thinking he's right and his friend, wrong, Brad makes excuse, "Okay, well,
Olav is waiting for me to shove my dick up his ass... I gotta go."

It seemed always the case, Brad's way of saying `goodbye', saying he had to
shove his cock in a guy's ass, leaving dead silence in place of a formal
departing word.

"Yeah right, Brad," Jase said, tabbing his phone off, but left in his mind
was doubt, Jase wishing Brad's thoughts about Lance untrue. Walking around
his room with his cell phone in his hand for five minutes, made him
frustrated.

Then it came, not exactly what he hoped for, his father calling up the
stairs, "You want to come down here son? Your mother and I want to talk
with you?"

For certain he didn't want Lance calling in the middle of a conversation
with his parents, but he didn't want to miss his call. Some things took
precedence, so he would just have to call Lance back.

%

"So, my ass feels real agreeable to you?"

Brad replies, as he kneels on the bed, his shaft firmly planting in Olav's
ass, "Just another ass, just another hundred bucks. Whatever the customer
wants, the customer gets!"

He continues to pump away furiously, Olav showing no regrets he's paying
big bucks to have his ass reamed, but he was hoping by paycheck time things
could be perceived as differently. "You don't feel anything else?"

Brad replies, "Other than drilling deeper than the first time, should I?"
Sure, it felt awesome, having Brad's 9.5c plow him up the middle, but some
of the lackluster from last night had worn off. Originally, when they
romantically stripped each other, kissed, him sucking up Brad's tube, it
seemed they were headed in more of a direction than a prearranged sexual
contracting.

After Brad came, sending his wad deep into Olav's canal work, he turned
over on the bed, lying there on his back, trying to regain his composure.

In the meantime, Olav had lost all fervor or anything along the lines of an
affair developing. Out of bed, he searched for his pants, taking his wallet
out. Kneeling back on the bed, he towered over Brad's outstretched bod,
peeling bills off.

"Let's see that's fifty bucks for each ball sac," he tosses one, then the
other on Brad's wet-haired abs, "a fifty for sucking on each nip," two more
fifties hit Brad, mid-chest, "a hundred for each fuck, that's two
hundreds," tossed on his pubes, which are quickly stolen away, lest they
get slimed, "and tip?"

"Yeah?" Brad looks up, the other money collected in one hand.

"Here's your fuckin' tip!"

Worse than coming up the basement stairs, lying down, when Olav's fist
caught him in the abs, Brad's bod rolled over, away from Olav and kept
going till he fell off the bed on all fours. "Oh shit, Olav! What tha fuck
was that for?"

Crawling across the bed on his knees, Olav looks over the edge of the bed,
a smile on his face, "I think you took that rather well, Brad."

"Fuck you!" Brad replies, getting up and looking for his clothes.

"Got enough money for college yet?"

They covered that last night, Olav already knowing the answer to the
question.

Relaxing on the bed, watching Brad get himself together, he says, "A
hundred bucks to fuck a guy is nickel'n'dime stuff!"

"I know your game Olav. I'm not getting paid to take have my abs turned to
mush!"

Calmly, Olav suggests, "Who said you had to `take' anything? Did you know
it is very tough to find a guy on the `giving' end?"

"I'm not a sadist, if that's what you're thinking?"

"Nobody said you had to be. You have a client whom is paying you and you're
fulfilling your part of the contract. It's as simple as that, Brad!"

By now Brad was dressed, pulling on his socks and tending to his sneakers,
him telling it as he saw it, "So, what you're saying is instead of some guy
paying to work me over, you want me to work some other guy over?"

"And get paid, paid very well for it. No more dimes'n'quarters."

Brad says, not out of jest, but more of buying time, "I thought you said
nickels'n'dimes?"

"My opinion?"

Brad replies as Olav's nude bod stands there before him, "Like I'm gonna
stop ya?"

Leaning over, resting his hands on the arms of the chair, caging Brad in,
Olav says, "You could've been out that door, dressed or undressed a half
hour ago, Brad or maybe it was just too good to pass up a business
proposition?"

Still tossing around the idea, as Olav mentioned, maybe a business deal too
good to pass up, Brad asks, "Do I have to like sign on the dotted line?"

"No, but before you are even considered you need to go meet the man in
charge?"

"I thought `you' were in charge?" Brad asks.

Cooly, Olav says, "Why don't you go downstairs and make yourself some
breakfast while I make some arrangements for us today. I take it, being
Sunday, you don't have any plans?"

"Church," Brad jokes, "but I can skip out!"

%

It was too overwhelming for Jase, his father coming at him from one angle,
his mother on the other side, the two of them going at it, telling him of
his sinful nature, how badly he behaved and the worst two parts, having to
go up in front of the whole church this morning and asking them and God for
the forgiveness of his blasphemous sin.

Not sure what to do, Jase made amends by saying he would do it, but in the
recess of his mind he knew it wasn't the right thing to do. It was what
`they' wanted him to do, not his gut feeling, especially after rethinking
Lance and his go get'em attitude yesterday. Back in his room, since he
didn't have Lance's number to call him, decided on his best friend.

When Brad's cell started ringing he was munching on toast, drinking orange
juice right from the contained. Too, it was kind of hot in the kitchen, so
he took the front of his tee shirt and anchored it behind his neck. Good
thing, because as he tabbed on his phone, upon it chiming, he was taking a
swig of juice and it waterfalled down his chest and stomach. "Oh shit! No,
not you Jase!" he exclaimed. "I just poured OJ down my chest... no, not on
purpose, stoopid!"

There was a lull on Brad's side, Jase telling him all, in a nutshell.

"That's cool!"

"Cool?" Jase questions. "Cool I have to act like a stupid fuck in front of
the whole congregation?"

Brad comes up with the coolest idea, "Nope. When you get up there to tell
them you've sinned, instead tell you like to fuck around with guys."

"Yeah," Jase tells with sarcasm, "then when I get home they'll kick me
out!"

Thinking on his own plight, Brad says, "Then you'll see how `the other
half' lives!"

"Yeah, sure Brad," Jase says, knowing exactly what he means.

It's at that moment Brad tells of how the honey pot is about to get
sweeter.

"You're going to make money beating guys up?"

"Could be the other way around," As he's already considered. In conclusion,
"I dunno. I have to see what it's about, but I gotta go."

Brad had heard Olav on the stairs, so left his signature, an instant
disconnect.

Jase had to think on this. He thought, if he followed through with Brad's
plan, which sounded very daring, but exciting.... then his cell rang up
again. At first he thought it was Brad, but then `Lance' sounded in his
mind and he hurried to answer.

Lance it was and he apologized for not getting back, that he had to work
late.

Figuring it could be that way, all that clean up once they got back to the
catering service. Other than that, his mind still on his own problem, Jase
left it rest on Lance's ears, after telling him what happened.

Coming up with a more diplomatic solution, Lance suggested keeping his
parents happy, then doing what he needed to do. With graduation, he would
be going off to college and then he could begin life anew.

Frankly, Jase was a little disappointed and he let Lance know, "What
happened to the fight that was in you yesterday?"

"Yesterday, the only thought I had in my mind was victory for you taking a
stand and coming out."

"It sounds like you are contradicting yourself, Lance?"

In a way he was, but at the same time was trying to make this transition in
Jase's life as smooth and painless as possible. `Painless' he thought to
himself, upon thinking it, upon saying it, "I'm thinking of a way of making
this as smooth and painless as possible."

Too, as Jase remained silent, thinking about it, Lance was dwelling on
quite a different matter, one which he was afraid to bring up to people,
because usually people didn't understand and when the subject hit the
surface he wound up drowning in unfound accusations.

"What else?" Jase asks, perceiving Lance in deep thought.

"Oh nothing." Right now Lance remained `mum'.

"I really don't want to get up there and lie, not that I mind lying, it's
just that...."Jase stuttered his last few words.

"I know. You feel like you've taken a step forwards and now your running
backwards?"

"Exactly!" Jase agreed. He then `did a Brad', said, "I gotta think about
this some more," and pressed his phone off.

After hanging up, Jase paced the floor of his room, back and forth, till
his father knocked, announced himself as he cracked it open, "We're all set
to go son, right?"

"Yeah, I'm okay dad."

However, Jase wasn't okay. After his dad left, he figured he better get
ready for church, ready to be submitted to humiliation, to... then he
looked at his bare bod in the mirror of the jon. He thought out loud, like
he was a minister on the pulpit, "How can a man with such a beautiful bod,
deny who he really is and really wants to be?" Closing his eyes, Jase
touched both hands to his abs, crawled up his bod with them, slid over his
pecs, remained stationery long enough to thumb his nips and run them around
the small circles of hair. One hand slid down his bod as the other touched
upon the small patch of hair in the middle of his chest. After sampling his
teen treasure trail, Jase felt up his manhood. As he stood there, his eyes
closed, in a soft, cooing tone he again speaks to himself, "How can
something that feels so good, be so wrong?"

Opening his eyes, looking down, not that he didn't already feel it, he was
hard.

%

,Copyright 2010 T. Chase McPhee

`WTF?' 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.....