Date: Fri, 23 Sep 2011 07:19:21 -0700 (PDT)
From: Tchase Mcphee <survivalgame@rocketmail.com>
Subject: BeaR GaRDeN 08

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.

BeaR GaRDeN 08
WriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

Jorge Villa rolled his eyes, but smiled, pulling out of one of many
designated `maintenance' spaces alongside the McLachland estate
garage. Instead of condemning himself for securing a date tonight at the
`Bear Garden' with Frederic, an `older' man, he was gloating with
excitement. Unlike meeting guys in the past, most circling his age of 27
years, he shucked off the finer details regarding build and `size'.

As for Frederic, he himself was in rare form, going about his business,
even beyond his own call of duty. Entering the livingroom, four house
employees loitering, one trying to pin the detail on the other, he says of
it, "Oh why don't you all just quit fucking around and get this mess
cleaned up?"

Volunteering himself as leader, not only because he was the house manager,
Frederic takes task in hand and begins cleaning up, dumping everything into
a trash bin.

"Uh, Frederic?" Drake questions, "You like just threw a glass in the
trash?"

"Oh did I?" he didn't bother picking it out, rather, "So what! Due to my
haggling, I just saved Mr. McLachlan quite a sum of money due to my
shrewdness!"

Drake Andrews could have said something, but others were picking up on it
as well, Jason Li, Chinese lilt to his accent, asks, "You win lottery or
something, Frederic?"

"If I had, would I be here helping you lazy bums clean up?"

They felt guilty. All of them. So pitched in and helped. Never once had
Frederic complained about them. He even helped them out from time to time,
allowing Jason one time to leave early to meet up with a suitor, giving
Liam McGovern off so he could go to the beach with his boyfriend, down to
minuscule reason, like when Aaron needed off early for the Jewish holiday
and a few ensuing days so he could entertain his old boyfriend, in from
Israel.

Taking the trash can away from Frederic, Drake stepped in to help clean,
the others assuming portions of the workload. It drove Frederic back into
the position meant for him at the McLachland household, to oversee things,
run properly.

It was on Frederic's mind to ask, but he was afraid of implicating Jorge,
not wanting to open up that can of worms. However, he had an idea Aaron had
gone to the `Bear Garden', when his boyfriend, Tomer had arrived from
Israel. He couldn't contain himself, asking, "Say Aaron, you mentioned once
you had gone to the `Bear Garden' with your friend Tomer?"

"What of it?" he asks, the others freezing in place, looking around the
room at each other.

"What does one `wear' to the Bear Garden?"

Liam starts in on the `interrogation', "Why Frederic? You got a hot date?"


"Maybe," Frederic replies, but confuses, "and maybe I don't. Maybe I'm
bored of going to movies and want a change of pace?"

Even Drake's mind was swifter than the others, focusing on the carpenter
dude who came to check out the kitchen, "The reason doesn't happen to be
Latino and around twenty-five years old?"

Jason Li asks, "Not Jorge Villa, who works at Modern Cabinetry?"

They didn't give Frederic a chance to answer, though his mouth was open to
do so, Aaron says, "Jorge isn't into older guys!"

Corroborating his story, `chub-cub' Drake says, "Aaron's right. You `never'
see Jorge at the Bear Garden with a dude older than thirty-five!"

"Is that so?" Frederic says with sarcasm. Then, pomposity, "Well maybe
Jorge has amended his ways!"

"Apparently," Aaron replies, "if he's taking you to the Bear Garden
tonight!"

Jason exclaims, "Jorge is taking you?"

Knocking Jason on the head with his knuckles, Drake says, "Are you that
dense, Jase?"

"No," and not thinking, Jason replies, "it's just I didn't think Jorge
would be seen at the Bear Garden with an older dude!"

Joking, Drake sneaks up behind Jason, puts him in a full nelson and
addresses Frederic, "C'mon Frederic, I'll hold him. You work him over!"

Doing a move his uncle taught him, Jason slips down on his ass, his bod
weight causing Drake to lose his grip.

"Maybe I should allow you to do my dirty work, Drake?"

"For real?" Drake says.

Frederic, knowing Drake was into wrestling, the reason Drake kept up his
bulky bod, and like a concerned parent, "Sure, but take it outside, boys?"

It was one of their favorite pastimes, Ian even sometimes becoming
involved, when the four took their lunch hour out by the pool. Stripping
off shirts, shoes and socks, pants so they didn't get grass stains on them,
the four would practice their unprofessional wrestling.

It was nearly lunch time, so Frederic cut them a break, the four cheering
like college dudes about to depart on spring break!

However, Aaron lagged behind, "You really going to the Bear Garden tonight
with Jorge?"

"Do I ever lie?" Frederic replies, picking up a cloth which fits on the
side of the arm chair, holding it up by a corner, asking, "Does this look
like what I think it is?"

Aaron laughs, "Sure does," the two recognizing dried cum, it being tossed.

"You didn't answer my question," Frederic says. "What does one wear
nowadays to clubs?"

Aaron shrugs one shoulder, saying, "Not much!"

"A tie, white shirt and dress slacks would work?"

"Somebody would wonder if you were at the wrong address, Frederic."

"No tie?"

"None of the above would be more like it."

A picture drawn in his mind, himself the artist, Frederic verbalizes,
"You're making it sound like I'm dressed to almost nothingness, Aaron!"

"Could be the case by the end of the night. If I were at home I'd outfit
you, but... Hey! I've got an idea!" Aaron snaps a finger. "Ian's gotta have
a closet full of club gear. He's always there!"

"Ian? I don't think so. Have you checked out the difference in our ages,
Aaron? Me fifty-eight, Ian twenty?"

Aaron smiles, replying, "You know you over extend yourself as far as age,
Frederic?"

"Wanna explain that, because I'm sure as hell not getting it?"

"Skip this for a minute," Aaron takes the trash bin from Frederic's hand.

On there way upstairs, Ian was on his way downstairs. Many a time when at
home, when his parents weren't, Ian would feel free to dress in nothing. It
didn't phase Aaron or Frederic, because they saw Ian all about with no
clothes on often enough.

Aaron mentions, "I'm going to borrow something from your closet for
tonight, Ian."

"Fine," he says without care of worry to Aaron. "Just remember to bring it
back and in good condition? Remember..."

"I know," Aaron picks up the slack, "if I don't bring it back, I own it!"
House staff made a generous salary, but Aaron wasn't about to spend a
week's salary on a shirt from Ian's wardrobe!

Entering Ian's room, an area Frederic has rarely been, being he allowed Ian
his freedom to be on his own turf, he says, "The place is a stinkin' mess!"

Frederic goes to pick up some clothes on the floor, Aaron cautioning him,
"Don't touch anything. Ian won't be able to find something."

"How does he find anything in this mess? Besides, why would he have clothes
on the floor in the first place, if he doesn't wear any?"

"Frederic?" Aaron questions.

"What?"

"I stopped trying to figure out Ian years ago. Now, you want to go shopping
in Ian's closet or what?"

"Is there anything left?" Frederic replies, stepping over clothes on the
floor, scattered, unpaired shoes or sneakers.

He was amazed, to say the least, as they set foot in the walk-in closet.

"Are you sure Ian has only his own clothes in here?"

Aaron replies, "I wish I got the allowance Ian's father gives him!"

"Looks like he knows how to spend it too. What's this?"

It drew a smile to Aaron's face, taking the loosely fitted, black leather
straps from the hanger, saying, "A harness. What did you think it was?"
Aaron holds it up to his front.

"I'll be damned!" Frederic says, like he didn't know!

"Like omg! Would Jorge Villa be whacked out of his gourd if you showed up
in this tonight Frederic!"

"Why would I want to?"

Aaron goes on to explain, not in detail, but skips over quite a few in his
quest to explain the master/slave thingy, dominant/subdominant, top/bottom
and a few other things which coincided with a man wearing the black leather
strap and metal studded implement, part of a particular scene. He left out
the part about his life experience, Tomer-the-master, him slave!

Frederic jokes, "Sounds like I would have guys eating out of my hand!"

"And more," Aaron replies, "Hand, crotch, ass..." Thinking about it, "Then
again maybe it wouldn't be too bad you wearing this. For sure you would not
stain the pits!"

It opened up another subject, food for thought, getting sweaty doing
`what?'

"Oh yeah," Aaron says, "I suppose you haven't kept up with what people
listen to these days and how they dance?"

"I did line dancing at a wedding once. That good?"

"No good," Aaron replies. "So, are we set on the harness?"

"I don't know. Do I wear a shirt over it? What about pants?"

"Shirts out, but..." Aaron scanned the rest of the closet, not far from
where the harness hung, the matching pants.  "Geez, these look like they
were never worn!"

"Looks like leather," Frederic says of the shiny material the pants are
made from.

"Oh, no wonder."

"What?"

"Why Ian hasn't worn these. Take a look," Aaron holds the pants up. "Do you
think Ian's bod would fit these?"

Frederic questions, "Then why does he have them?"

"At one time Ian had this crazy idea he would start going to the gym and
lose that fat gut of his. Epic failure!"

Frederic laughed at the way Aaron put it, asking, "I wear a size 34
waist. What size is that?"

"Good question," Aaron replies, searching inside the chaps, top, near where
the ass slides in, coming up, "doesn't!"

"I suppose there's only one sure way of finding out!"

"Try the harness on while you're at it, Frederic."

Of the two years he's spent at the McLachlan estate, not once could he
recall seeing Frederic without clothes. After the jacket came off, he grew
real interested in what lay under the rest. Then, when Frederic took off
his tie, a real bow tie and not a clip on, the shirt off, he was amazed by
the fifty-eight year old, "Wow Frederic, you're in great shape!"

"Am I now?" Frederic felt like blushing, but in the long run was proud of
his gym-worked bod, the naturally carved six pack abs anyone could see,
because the blond hair which coursed down his bod was not as thickly strewn
as that of a man who had brown hair.

"I just realized something Frederic."

"What's that?" he asks, placing his shirt on a hanger, hanging it in the
closet.

"A lot of guys your age have gray hair, unless you die your hair blond?"

If you look closely you will see a few, but I suppose you can call me a
late-bloomer." Skipping over anything else, "You want to help me on with
this thing?"

Aaron would have no problem, knowing it would require his hands touching
Frederic's bod and he went on to help with the fitting without any
reservations of doing so.

Frederic was no dumb bunny, commenting, "Getting your jollies, Aaron?"

"Y'know, for an old guy you have incredibly smooth skin?"

"I take vitamins!"

Aaron began to get the real thrill of helping Frederic into the leather
outfit, when the pants come off, him saying, "I don't know how all that is
going to fit into the chaps, Frederic?!"

"All of what?" he honestly asks.

Without naming it, Aaron says, "The junk that's making your briefs bulge?"

Frederic jokes, "Whatsammatter? They change the name? They don't call them
cock and balls anymore?"

Aaron laughs, replies, "Nah, cock and balls haven't gone out of style yet
Frederic, but now they all fall under the title of a guy's `junk!'"

"Junk, huh? Sounds like a bunch of rubbish to me!"

"Got one more request, Frederic."

"What's that?"

"They don't wear briefs under the chaps."

"Why not?" he hesitates, even though his thumbs are inside the elastic.

"In case you want to make a guy suck you. Just think, you would need to
either pull your junk out through the opening in the briefs, which could
feel like you're getting strangled, or... I dunno what else. Trust me
though. It's better without."

"I suppose it would look better," Frederic replies, his thumbs drawing his
tightey-whities down.

All eyes, Aaron asks, "If you don't mind me asking Frederic, are you a top
or bottom?"

"I mind you asking, but being it could have an impact on how these chaps
work and my `junk', I would not want to have a wardrobe malfunction or
anything. I'm a top most of the time." Getting his dibs in, "You?"

Staring at Frederic's `junk', pubes of gold and iron, Aaron licks his lips,
"Maybe we should try you taking the codpiece off and..."

"The what in tarnation?"

Aaron replies, slower, "Cod-piece, the little pouch in the front. It snaps
in, so it's an easy off in case your `junk' starts swelling up and you
start to feel overwhelmed with a guy?"

"You mean if a guy turns me on and I want him to suck my cock?"

Aaron says, "I think that's what I meant."

Again, not an idiot, Frederic says, "Yes, well you forgot the part where
you wanted to try out the codpiece to make sure my `junk' would function
properly?"

"Only if you wanted to Frederic."

As Frederic saw it, it wasn't being left up to him. If anything, Aaron had
brought up the idea, because `he' wanted to experience his junk falling out
of the codpiece instead a royal fail. However, trying on the chaps, he
comments, "Tight fit around the crotch."

"Yeah, but I don't see where it's going to bust your snaps!"

Leading Aaron on, like a witness at a trial, Frederic asks, "Are you going
to make sure the codpiece works?"

Aaron smiles, falling to his knees, saying, "If it please you, Sir?"

Getting the hang of it real quick, Frederic replies, "What would call you?
Slave Aaron?"

Aaron replies, "Slaves aren't allowed to talk. They just suck!"

%

Sitting at the pool, for whatever reason the two couldn't get into moving
from Michael sucking Barry and onto other sexual activity.

Partly it was because some of the staff had arrived, namely the pool boy,
Barry asking, "Who's the cub?"

Unknown to Barry, Michael's face lit up like the fourth of July, him
shouting, "Hey Jef? Come over here. I have somebody I want you to meet!" he
waved his hand `to come.'

"A little overdressed, isn't he?" Barry poses to Michael.

Jef was dressed in his usual fashion for scooping leaves out of the pool
and making sure the pH levels were copasetic, a loose fitting tank top,
which looked two sizes too big and a pair of boardshorts, thongs he could
kick off in a hurry.

"Hi," Jef immediately drew attention to Barry, rather than Michael, "I'm
Jef Scholten. What's yours?"

If Barry had had it his way, he would have offered. Standing, he says,
"Barry Dunbar and I'm happy to meet you, Jef," he puts his hand out.

For the longest time, Michael and Barry had carried out the scene,
pretending to have an interest in each other, but it just wasn't measuring
up to what a life of meeting someone for the purposes of falling love, was
stacked up to be. The clincher had come about ten minutes ago when Barry
announced it `felt good', Michael sucking away on his cock, but not getting
overly erotic. Michael guessed the truth, him not being the `mold' Barry
had in mind for himself, even though Barry claimed he didn't mind pairing
up with a `skinny' dude.

"Nice to meet you too, Barry," Jef replies, but then turning to Michael,
"Oh, I forgot Michael. If it's okay, my brother is going to stop by and
pick up a check I need to give him? He's on his way."

Jef had a few marbles loose, but asking if something was okay, but already
having it in the works for it to be carried out, wasn't a problem, Michael
asking, "Brother, Jef? I didn't even know you had one!"

Barry was patient as Jef explained he did indeed have an older, twenty-six
year old brother, offering too much info, that he had been in college for
two years, was studying environmental science and now owner of the family
landscaping business.

"Huh!" Michael replies, "Same as me. I'm pursuing studies in environmental
studies, but not sure exactly what field."

However, Barry was glad for the chit-chat between Michael and Jef, because
it gave him leeway to check Jef out. It wasn't at all tough to visualize
what Jef looked like under the tank top on account of it oversized and it
being a bit transparent. He could also guess the bod size, big, but
solid. This frame was something to think about! He smiled on his own terms,
comparing Jef to Michael.

Hearing Michael say, "I better stick by the front door, in case your
brother rings."

"Why doesn't Jef give you the check?" Barry asks.

"I'm supposed to give it to Sven," Jef says, not to be mean, but given the
direction by someone else.

"That's okay," Michael replies.

"How long have you been working here, Jef?"

"Four years."

"Don't you feel you can trust Michael?"

"Oh, I do!" Getting the message, Jef calls out, "Wait a second Michael!"
Jef arrived at work in clothing, changing into his `uniform', which
consisted of something he could wear in and out of the pool and doing other
jobs in the backyard. In no time he had the check, retrieved from a pants
pocket, and was jogging over to where Michael stood.

Barry watched, smiled seeing the two interact, Michael finishing up with
putting an arm over Jef's shoulder for a short hug.

Jogging back, Jef shouted some news, like something awesome had taken
place, "I told Michael Sven was gay!"

`Okay!' Barry thought, replying, "That's nice Jef."

The whole rest of the morning and most of the afternoon the two talked,
swam, talked and swam. For the most part, there were not many, if any,
leaves in the pool.

Barry laughed when Jef called it, "It's a cushy job and sometimes I have to
find other things to do, but I like it!"

"At least you're honest about it."

"What do you do?" Jef asks, sitting there in a chair across from Barry.

"I'm a bouncer at the Bear Garden. Sometimes I fill in for the bartender,
open and close the place. Have you been there?"

"Nope!" Jef replies.

Still in the lounging chair, Barry lays there, bottom half of his bod in a
`V', legs spread, not ashamed, not that Barry had to be, regarding his cock
flopping over his big balls, but also drew some sense of pride from
flaunting his hairy pits, hands resting behind his head.

Trying to concentrate on his work, Jef grabbed up the straining net,
attached to a long pole. Walking over to the pool, he dipped it in.

Barry smiles, knowing he was being checked out, because Jef missed two or
three freshly dropped leaves. Wondering what lay underneath the tank top at
least, he yells to Jef, "Hot day, huh?"

"Yup," Jef yells back, turning his head, adding a smile. Really, he didn't
care about the hot sun, but more taking in the view of Barry, splayed out
in the chair. `Damn!' he thought, thinking of Barry almost as hairy as
himself, and in all the right places! He bit his lip, thinking about what
lay between Barry's legs, wondering just how big `it' got.

"Hey," Barry says, having pushed up out of the chair, approached Jef,
unknowing he was in deep thought.

"Huh?" Jef jumped suddenly. As he did, he turned around in almost a
complete circle. Only problem, one foot was hovering above the pool apron
and he went `kerplunk' into the pool!

Meanwhile, about three minutes ago Michael had stepped inside the back
door.

Meeting and greeting him, Sven allowed Michael to walk right into his arms,
the Swede saying, "How is our little plan? Did he buy it?"

Docking with Sven's embrace, Michael replies, "I think Barry's
interested. I made out like I didn't know anything." Then on a side note,
Sven clothed, while he was naked, "What's this?" he pinches the fabric of
Sven's shirt.

Smiling, Sven doesn't even bother unbuttoning his uniform, it reading
`Scholten Landscaping', a little patch to the right side of the chest,
pulling it off overhead.

Seeing it snagged, Michael helps, saying, "In my own opinion," he right
away rubs Sven's shoulders, "I don't think it will take long before he
catches on. You've been to the Bear Garden. You know what happens when a
bear spots a cub?" Michael laughs.

Smiling, after tossing the shirt onto a kitchen counter, Sven replies, "I
know what happens when a muscle dude spots a skinny cub!"

Their hands were all over each other. Being Michael was stripped down to
the flesh, Sven took liberty of sliding both palms down his back, reeling
Michael in by clutching his buns.

Out by the pool, Barry, thinking whether Jef could or could not swim, took
no chances and jumped in after him, yelling, "I'll save ya!"

Instead, he found Jef floating up to the top of the water, the two neck
deep.

"I can swim."

"I see that," Barry replies. He also says, "I like your beard. Have it
long?"

"When I started college. I study art, you know?"

How would Barry know, upon his first meeting up of Jef, but instead of
mocking, "No I didn't know. Are you good at it?" One thing he notices, as
opposed to being on dry land, there's definitely more fur below the tank
shirt, already spotted around the laddered straps, but because the two are
buoyant, Jef's shirt rides up his front and between shirt and boardshorts,
there's plenty more! To himself, upon seeing it, thinks, `Grr-r-r-r!'

"I think I am. I don't know. Other than my professor I haven't shown
anyone."

"I'd like to see your work sometime." If Barry wasn't `interested', he
wouldn't seek with a curious attitude, but drop back.

"Want to right now?"

"Right now?"

"Yup. Mr. Rinaldi, not Michael, lets me have a studio here. Want to see?"

Right away, after they both exited the pool, Barry got two eyefuls of the
artistic attire of Jef's bod, after he strips the tank top. He licked his
chops at seeing the dripping wet fur on Jef's back, let alone when he turns
around and announces, "I've got to dry off a little first."

Barry didn't mean anything by, but right after saying, "It'll take a long
time for those shorts to dry off," thought about it being very suggestive.

"Maybe I should change?" Jef replies, already with his hands in his pockets
and pushing the shorts down, which immediately announced Jef's shaft, the
top of the hairy barrel caught in the waist-collar of the shorts.

"You could," Barry almost stare at the teasing hint, "or we can..." at
first he thought about it, using the line more than a few times on the
`Bear-cruise'.

"What?" Jef asks.

"I was going to suggest us both sitting by the pool and drying off a
spell?"

Hiking the boardshorts back up, to about two inches below his hairy
bellyhole swirl, Jef says, "Sounds like a good idea."

Barry went for flat broke, sitting, Jef right beside him, "You might dry
out quickerer if you didn't have the pants on?"

Jef laughs, all too wise, "You mean you want to check me out?"

Well, since Jef put it in so many words, Barry tells him, "It's only fair?"

"Oh? How's that go?"

"You've already checked me out, Jef!"

Jef couldn't lie. It's probably why both of them swam with the leaves,
leaves he was supposed to be gathering up in a net, but missed because he
was more interested in the lounging bear! "How did you know I was checking
you out?" he was honest, but also following through on Barry's suggestion.

With purpose, Barry leans forwards and to his right. Instead of his
attention towards looking Jef in the eye and speaking, his train of thought
derails.

"Do you like me?" Jef asks.

"Do you mean, do I like you or your seven inch sausage?"

"When it's hard, it's about nine inches. I know. When we were hard once we
measured."

"We?" Barry questions. "Who is `we'?"

"Sven. He taught me a lot of stuff about being gay and about guys."

"Oh?" Barry sat back. "What did he teach you about guys like me?"

"Oh, I know all about you."

Barry wondered, "Like how do you mean that, Jef?"

"Sven. I heard him and Michael talking."

Seeing something of a more complicated nature here, Barry quizzes him,
"Sven and Michael talking about what?"

With hesitation, Jef says, "I don't know if I should tell you."

Like he pawned the check off on Michael, right out of Jef's hand, knowing
Jef for roughly fifteen minutes was enough time to con more information,
placing a hand on Jef's shoulder, asking, "You trust me, don't you?"

Right out, Jef says, "I like you Barry. I think you are real good
looking. Do you think if we talk and maybe go out on a date, we could
become boyfriends?"

Jef was jumping the gun and perhaps Barry sensed something `sinister' about
Michael's relationship with his thus far, but took the bait, not that he
was ready to ditch Jef, "It's a possibility," pressing, "Now what's this
about Michael and your brother?"

"I forgot," Jef truly forgot, "Michael already knows Sven. He's come to our
house a lot, but especially to be with Sven."

"They've been... to bed?" Barry questions, hoping at the same time to pick
up some juicy tidbits of information.

"Oh sure. I know, because my bedroom is right next to Sven's room and lots
of nights when I tried to get some sleep I can't, because they are making
noises in the bed."

"Hmm," Barry ponders, "and when was the last time you heard Michael and
Sven `make noises' in the bed?"

While Jef dropped his head back, in deep thought, Barry's eyes did some
exploring. Regardless of whatever Jef was thinking up to say, Barry licked
his lips, taking in that mat of pec fur, dotted with two pink nips, hair
which rode right up to his neck and top of shoulders. His stomach was all
wrinkled up, but follows suit, hairy-to-the-max. His pubes looked like a
bird nest, two large `eagle-eggs', big, soft cock lying down on them.

"I think," Jef pondered, "this week. Does that help?"

Barry's mouth looked pouty as he replies, "This week is soon enough."

"Why? Don't you have sex with more than one guy?" Jef was assuming it's how
it went with Michael and Barry.

"Not when you're trying to start up a relationship with a guy, telling him
you're madly in love with him and that sort of stuff."

"Are you madly in love with Michael?" Jef asks.

"Not exactly. In fact, not at all, but..." Barry sat on his thoughts.

"But what?"

Barry wasn't sure about all this. First, it seemed Michael had the hots for
him, but the pool seemed to cool him off to lukewarm. Then, fired up for a
blowjob in the chaise lounge, he wondered what that was about, before
Michael said something like `it wasn't working out'. He squints his eyes,
Barry seeming to perceive something strange, all this coming about right
after Jef shows up. However, right now his interest was with Jef, saying,
"I think we're dried off enough to see your art work?"

"Cool!" Jef jumped out of his seat, which set off his cock and balls
jiggling around like jelly. "C'mon, then!"

Barry didn't have much choice. As a small kid would do with an adult, Jef
grabs his hand like doing a handshake and pulls him out of his chair. With
purpose, possibly a little risque, rising up out of his chair, Barry reels
Jef in like a fish, their arms between the two, otherwise their bods would
have slapped together.

Though, Jef's arm was up against Barry and he took notice, rubbing his arm
up against Barry's stomach, "Feels cool, even though it's wet?"

Barry wasn't feeling much different attitude, returning the gesture, "I
think you have more `bear-fur' than me!"

"Bear-fur? Is that what I've got?" Jef looks down upon himself, comparing
his hairy bod to Barry's furry stomach.

Barry figured Jef had to be three, four or five years younger than himself,
replying, "No. `Me' bear-fur, `You' cub!"

"I saw a science show on Tv. They showed how bears take care of cubs."

Trail left stone cold of where Jef was headed with this, Barry quickly
assesses, as he rekindles his effort of feeling up Jef's stomach fuzz,
"Then maybe you need a `bear' to take care of you?!"

%

Ian flopped his ass in a chair and remotely returned to watching a Colt
flick, "Oh fuckin' yeah-h-h-h," some young dude shooting his wad onto a
cowboy's hairy chest, when his cell starts playing a Lady Gaga tune.

"Dammit!" he says, his hand around his cock, less than semi-erect. Giving
up and turning off the messy scene, Ian answers, because it shows his
friends name on the read-out, "What is it Geoff?"

Because Ian had some precum on his fingers, he put it on speakerphone,
hearing his friend, Geoff Long say, "Ian, you're the only one I could
reach. You gotta come be a witness for me!"

Right away Ian sits up and asks, "You in jail, Geoff? What'd you do?"

"No, I'm not in jail. I'm at Bill Basehart's house. He wants to help me out
with my fantasy, but says I need another guy here."

"Another guy, Geoff? Like, for what?"

"Y'see," Geoff goes on to explain, wanting to have some freaky stuff done
to him, skimming the surface, tied eagle-spread and whipped on the back
with a belt, "but Bill says somebody has to be here, so I can't go back and
say it was his doing and not that I `wanted' it done to me. Get it?"

"Get it, Geoff? Yeah I get it. You're a sicko, dude!"

He couldn't tell Geoff's feelings over the phone, him telling Ian, "No more
sick than having a popsicle shoved up my ass, Ian?"

"Where did you hear that?" Ian knew, because only TC would have known and
spread the word. "I told TC not to say anything about that!"

"He wouldn't have," perhaps Geoff telling one of TC's little secrets,
"except Bill `made' him."

Now Ian's interest hinged on the curious side, him getting up and on his
way to his room to dress. "Don't do anything until I get there!"

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Copyright 2011 T. Chase McPhee

`BeaR GaRDeN' may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without
prior consent from the author.