Date: Thu, 8 Oct 2015 14:02:20 +0000
From: TCHASE MCPHEE <survivalgame@outlook.com>
Subject: ALeK iN wONdeRfULaNd 24

The drill: This 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, school campuses, crowded beaches, 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.


Various states and countries have various rules regarding reading or
viewing `adult material'. It is up to the reader to research this subject,
abiding by their own laws. The pages of this story contain `adult
material', intended for an `adult audience'. Bypass this warning at your
own risk.


% Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use
protection.



Hey dudes, if you have enjoyed reading NiFTy stories as much as I have,
over the years, consider adding some support for `internet $pace' or else I
will have to start cutting steamy characters out of my stories.

http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html



^o^ Concluding remarks ~ reading this story could make you stiff or gooey,
so I would suggest not reading it in a classroom...you should be paying
attention to the professor anyhoo...just sayin'! :)



%


ALeK iN wONdeRfULaNd 24

WriTten by T. Chase McPhee


^o^


%


"Now, here's where we find out who is on the team and who likes doing their
own thing," Ethan starts more than breaking down a building to its
foundation, reconstructing, "on the count of 3!"


The old barn, which didn't have much but a foundation to call it sound, had
long, strong ropes attached to four corners, manhandled by young and old
alike.


"Are you sure you can handle this, Cayman?" Nick asks, ass right in front
of him.


He wasn't sure, unused to hauling a barn down, reducing it to tinder, but
rather fitting all which needed to be placed out of sight when stuffing a
dude's briefs, "Let's just say," CK turns his head for a split second, "I'm
glad I have backup..." adjusting his posture, "...just in case!" Snort!


Ethan had offered all the guys leather gloves. Not the kind you would find
in a dungeon, but rugged ones which could double the size of a man's hand,
protection from minuscule to larger spiked fragments.


Needed also, against the bristle of heavy ropes, Cayman refused to put them
on, not the latest designer model, as his friend, Nouguet, would drum up!


"3!"


"Oh piddley-squat!" CK feels the rope tug at his hands. Letting go, instead
of falling backwards into the pocket of Nick's bod, the dude in front of
him, Deric comes rushing backwards like the receiver at a football game!


Nick could not very well drop everything and `catch', but could offer the
solution to CK getting trampled, "Roll out of the way, Cayman!"


Not because Nick wanted to follow up on his threat of impalement, but signs
that CK was on the verge of becoming the middle of a melted ice cream
sandwich, bumps him out of the way with the full force of his front, adding
a gentle, "sorry `bout that!"


"Huh?" he exclaims, seeing the backseat of Deric's pants closing in for the
kill!


It phased Deric only a second, more important, part of the team of four
ropes, stepping backwards with rapid pacing, unable to worry about what was
underfoot!


"Oh-noooooooo," CK moans out loud, grabbing his family jewels up in both
hands, natural instinct, rolling over and over and over.


Passing right by CK, on his left, Deric doesn't offer apology, rather, "Get
your dick outta the way...I'm comin' through!"


Nick couldn't argue the point, especially when a man is in danger of
getting his nuts stomped on, "The man's right?!"


"No, I meant `you', moron!"


Though, there was this sympathy lurking in Nick's mind, wanting to let the
rope slip from both hands, run over to CK and start the soothing process of
healing, he knew he had to pull his weight. Or, was it, subconsciously
wanting to butt-up with Deric?


In respect, Nick would have liked to have his lower midsection take a blow
from Deric's ass, both figuratively and in the real, sexual sense, however
he was concerned with CK's plumbing as well, "I'll be right with ya
Cayman!"


He knew CK was in pain, lying faced down, face in the leaves, spitting out
forest sewage, "Hurry and pull that damn barn down, will ya?!"


"I'm on it," Nick replies, like it was only one person doing the
demolition.


When the outline of a top window starts coming towards them, it wasn't
Nick, but rather Deric seeing it happen first. Glancing from the windowless
pane, to CK, his stamina kicks in, "Shit!" he drops the slackened ropes in
hand, rushes towards CK, "Ya gotta move, man!"


Instead, more concerned with the value of his family jewels, CK freezes.


Deric rushing in for the recovery, grabs CK by the back of his khaki shirt,
making a loud, grunting sound, "Akkk-gr-r-r-r!"


"Whoa, that's amazing!" Nick calls it, Deric making the tackle.


Up to this place in time, everyone, Nick included, thought of Deric a
muscle man, solely into himself, with only getting ass as his favorite
pastime.


When they landed, short distance from the caved in barn, except for the
pane which flew outward, Deric lay on his butt against a fallen tree, CK on
top of him.


Using Deric's built legs as a brace, CK lifts his chest up and peering into
rapidly-breathing lungs, says, "Oh man, do I owe you big time!"


Instead of being cordial, Deric says gruffly, "You can start by unzipping
me?!"


Nick has another idea, seeing CK reaching for the bulk of Deric's pants,
"You go any further, Cayman and Deric's gonna wind up with reduced fat
around the balls!"


Deric calls it, "You're jealous?"


Reaching a hand out, Nick shows he's not, "Here, take it."


Rising up off the dead tree trunk, CK slides down Deric's shins, "Hey, what
about the injured party here?"


CK, flipping over onto his back, shows there's not much wrong with him,
except a couple of bruises.


Nick says, "You can't be hurt that bad, Cayman, that you're ready to
swallow a man's junk?"


Standing next to Nick, Deric talks shop, "Is he good at it?"


Not sure if CK really approves of it, Nick finds reason for Deric's heroic
act going unrewarded, "Hmm, maybe you should find out?"


More following the conversation, while checking out his bruises, CK senses
a cue to stand when Deric walks away, "You're being awfully generous with
my mouth?"


A look of absurdity on his face, Nick questions, "Your mouth? I wasn't
talking about your sucking skills, though one way of hardening up a man's
main artery!"


Although CK knew Nick was kidding, he wasn't sure how much of it he joked
about. Then again, considers, "I do suppose the boy does deserve some kind
of thankfulness!"


Ethan did come around, mainly to give Deric a pat on the back.


CK sympathizes with himself, "I can't believe Ethan, showing no concern for
me?"


"Oh, stop you're belly-aching. I'll give you a hand massage later on, if
that'll soothe your mind!"


With an added wink, CK's spirits began to lift.


Except for the pressure, popping the window pane out of the wall of the
barn, it worked according to Ethan's plan, the structure, from years of
neglect, ready to give, planks folding in, instead of out.


"Where did you learn that one?" Sam asks.


It did phase Ethan, "Where's Jaeson?"


"Over there with the others," Sam replies, nodding to Jaeson right in there
with the rest, hauling busted timber from the mass of kindling, large and
small.


"Do you have some kind of magic we all should be aware of?"


Smiling, Sam, at the ripe old age of 51, says, "I've seen a lot in my
lifetime. Nothing like when I was growing up. Kids today have got it made,
that is as long as they don't have people like you and me to confront.


Sam goes on to telling about growing up, in the wilderness, small town on
the outskirts of the Grand Tetons. Passed down from generation to
generation, it wasn't the worn out `sorry-word' used to give cause for
forgiveness, "Yup, at the ripe old age of 16, my father took off his belt
as I was instructed to take off my shirt. Man, did he lay it on thick that
first time!"


Not a stranger to it, even though he was twenty-three years younger than
Sam, Ethan says, "Yeah, I can relate!"


"Can you?" Sam squints, like the sun shone in his eyes.


Sensing more to it, Ethan replies, "Is there more to it than you're
saying?"


Looking around, Ethan wasn't really needed, Jimi taking up the slack in
directing the younger ones in picking up planks, separating the wasted from
the reusable and piling them neatly.


It bought Sam some time, "Y'see, it wasn't all about me when it came to my
old man." Looking across the way at the beautiful forest, Same reconnects,
"My father, if that's what you want to call him, I prefer more a monster,
at least it's what a kid of sixteen would call a guy who got his jollies
out of whipping a back, using it as a thrill to prime himself and then, 10
lashes later, pulled his son's pants down and relieved himself of a hard
woody?"


Ethan gulped, dropping not only spit down his throat, but also losing that
rough edge, tough exterior, "I feel so bad for you," he places a hand on
Sam's shoulder.


Long ago, time taking him far away from that moment, Sam says, "Yeah, well
it didn't last long, the old lady catching him doing it!"


"Really?" Ethan lusted for detail, "I hope he got what was coming to him?"


On a lighter note, Sam says, "Yeah, I do believe mom invented the prototype
for a CB3000!"


"A `what'?"


"I can see you're not into it, Ethan!" Sam laughs away his nervousness of
even bringing it up.


Not what Sam was thinking, Ethan says, "Well, I'm not so sure I condone
corporal punishment, but..."


Even though Sam tried leading away from it, the excitement of explanation
pressed him onward, "No, I meant the CB3000?"


"What is that? Sounds like a tractor."


After Sam, making sure he couldn't be heard, explains the device which
cages up a man's meat, keeping hands from being able to stroke it up, "Of
course, the whippings went on, but my ass felt a whole lot safer with my
father's cock contained!"


"I almost sense you don't feel sorry for him."


"Nah, he was a mean ole bastard. But my mom, she was a sweetheart!"


Happy ending to the story, Ethan says, "Oh, so that's where you get your
charm from!"


"Charm?" The moment brightened, "I got charm?"


"Don't worry. I won't let it get around!" Ethan says it with spark.


"I appreciate that." Then, before Ethan could go back to his `boss man'
job, Sam says, "We'll talk again."


Ethan says with strong suggestion, "We could do more than talk?"


"That we could," Sam answers, then mutters, `That we could!'"


He didn't think of himself as a `monster' like his father, but Sam did feel
his balls churn, when he applied his form of straightening a boy out. Not
into leaving stripes on a guy's back, Sam did find some delight in
hammering a guy's ass with a paddle. A fetish of sorts, he could even get
into a guy his age or nearly, trading off whacks to the ass. Secondary
thought, watching Ethan go about his duties with his workers, he rubbed his
ass, thinking how hot it would be, the big boss man with a paddle in hand!


%


Back at the lodge, Alek and Hunter had reconnected.


Alek felt it okay, since Johnny seemed trustworthy, to share the reason why
he called himself `Johnson,' Jason with the `Hunter' namesake.


Johnny's reaction was mundane, "I think it's good you don't call yourself
who you really are. If I had my choice, I would be my middle name and not
my first."


The three at the pool, feet in, Hunter asks, "Which is?"


"Logan. Does it sound corny?"


"Not at all," Hunter replies, "more like `sexy'!"


"I agree," Alek smiles, thinking to himself, it was a mis-judgement on the
parents say, reversing the names.


"You look like a Logan," Hunter smiles. Then, off the top of his head, "To
me, Logan sounds a lot hotter than Johnson, no offense Alek."


"Well, theoretically speaking," Alek draws up a comparison, "`Johnson' like
says something?"


Hunter, knowing the story, Alek already explaining it to him, uses it as a
basis for his own telling, "Johnson stands for Alek's big, giant stalk
between his legs," laughs with a snort or two.


Both looked for Johnny's reaction, questions, with unrelated response,
"Than what does Hunter stand for?"


After Hunter explains about the hunter and the hunted, they wait for any
other followup.


Alek and Hunter didn't quite get what they expected, but were entertained
when Johnny pulls at his own inner thighs, "What do you think about my
Johnson?"


As it went, week after week in the park rest room, Hunter and Johnson
assuming their roleplay, it could very well be used as a comparative,
Hunter saying, "If Johnson..." new to Hunter, calling Alek, `Alek', "I mean
Alek agrees to it, I could show you some of the stuff we did?"


"Do I get to play the role of Hunter or Johnson?"


Hunter says, "Johnson."


Alek, having seen Johnny at the pool, though in swimming trunks, his tube
peeking out the pant leg, gives him the part, "Johnson."


"Wow!" Johnny is astounded, "You both think I'm a Johnson?"


Sweetly, Alek replies, "I'm the only Johnson around here. You, Johnny,
you're a Logan!"


Giggling, Hunter says, "Or we can call you `big log'?!"


Seriously, Johnny calls the shots, "Nah, that would mean I would be called
`Log-an'. Doesn't sound right."


Alek and Hunter exchange looks, Alek saying, "You're right. Loggen doesn't
cut it, Johnny!"


When the workers returned from the forest, most wanted to skip lunch and
crash in the pool lounges.


More important to Johnny, wasn't that sweaty, grimy bods were dirtying up
`his' chairs, but the exciting news, "Hey, I'm Logan now. Don't call me
Johnny!"


Alek says to Hunter, "See what you did?"


"Me?" Hunter throws both hands plunk against his pecs.


"I told you not to call me Johnson outside the rest room!" he pats Hunter's
abs with the back of the hand.


One thing undiscovered, Hunter catches up with Alek, walking away, "Hey
wait. Where do I stay?"


Smiling, the smile was pure evil, Alek saying, "Ask Loggen!"


Some liked the idea of Johnny's name change. Others kept forgetting, it
already ingrained in their minds. And, when there was a mind slip, every
time, Logan reminded them, "No, it's Logan, remember?"


"Oh yeah, I forgot," Jimi says, a sweet smile on his lips. "You forgive
me?"


Even though not confronted by Logan on the issue, Glenn has found out by
word of the jungle drums, "If he doesn't, I do!"


Then, to add a fourth wheel to the churning vehicle, "Hi guys. I'm
Hunter. I just want to ask Logan something."


"What's up?" Glenn asks, then realizing the question was redirected,
"...With your question for Johnny...I mean, Logan?"


Logan looks briefly at Jimi, skims over to Glenn, ricochets off, onto
Hunter's face, slapped with a, "What's up, Hunter?"


He doesn't remember it being said, but the thought was there, Hunter
saying, "Alek told me to ask you where I should be staying?"


Logan was then put under the gun. When he was `Johnny', he had sweet words
with Glenn. Then, Jimi, cornered him at the pool. Now, it had become a
tossup, which would be adding another peg to his cribbage board, "You want
to stay with me?"


Glenn thought he was Logan-Johnny's bedmate this evening, Jimi only tagging
the `friendly' base, but with intentions.


"I wouldn't mind a bit sharing a bunk with Hunter," Glenn offers.


It provided maelstrom for Logan's mind. Normally things were simplistic
enough. He could almost see plainly, Glenn lying there in bed with him, but
had a strong desire to feel the warmth of Jimi. Then, confronted by
Hunter's question, "I dunno."


Jimi, older, wiser, at the ripe age of 25, turns his lips to Glenn's ear,
"The more the merrier," he pats Glenn's knee!


It was too confusing for everyone, the name change, getting use to it
himself, when hearing one of the guys, "Hey, Johnny, there's bugs in the
pool!"


Too late they forgot Johnny's request, `Logan'.


Soon it was back to calling `Logan', `Johnny', so, once again, Johnny
became, `Johnny.'


"Oh, I'll be on it in a second," Johnny jumps up, sandwiched in between
Jimi and Glenn, using both their shoulders to stand on both feet.


"What's with the `Logan' shit?" Ethan asks Alek.


Not wanting to get into it, when it would bounce back on himself, needing
to explain how Hunter got his nick, the name, `Johnson', Alek says, "It's
complicated!"


"Oh," Ethan took Alek's answer at its face value.


So it became a dead issue, Alek shrugging it off, "So, how was your day in
the woods? Eye-catching?"


"We weren't out there for eye-candy," Ethan says, knowing why Alek lured
him back to his personal cottage.


Already with his khaki shirt open wide, having thrown it on when he saw the
troops coming back from the `war zone', Alek says, "I thought I heard some
whooping and hollaring?"


"Oh that...that was when the barn fell to pieces," Ethan making sure Alek
knew, "which was what was supposed to happen. Oh, but Cayman came out of it
with a little bruise."


By now, CK's little mishap, which had been not from a window being flung in
his direction, but indirectly, by one of Deric's size 12's flying up,
hitting him between the thighs, "Thanks for the arm to lean on," he walks
through the back gate.


Even though Deric was hero for the day, CK walked out of the woods with
Jaeson helping him, not entirely on his own, Sam's directive. However, to
make it worth his while, Jaeson became a man with a plan.


Miles behind the rest, arm crooked around Jaeson's elbow, CK remarks, "Nice
of you to stick around and help me, Jaeson."


"No problem Mr. Karlyle," but while he had the chance, "do you think I
could, you know, get my foot in the door of some of that modeling you do?"


Knowing the reason Jaeson got into trouble, CK replies, "Let's see how time
has an affect on that attitude of yours?"


Thinking on it, it didn't take long for Jaeson to speak his mind, "Yeah, I
get it."


"And oh," he has finally given up on the `CK' business, "call me Cayman,"
leaving their conversation on a light basis, "I don't feel like walking
around, everyone thinking I'm your grandfather!"


Strategic smile, Jaeson claims, "With your hot looks, Mr. Karlyle? You're
not built too different from any one of us!"


Setting eyes upon those who came before, Cayman loves Jaeson's
interpretation, shirtless men flanking the apron of the swimming pool,
which had him questioning, "Why aren't you all `in the pool?'"


"Johnny's rule," Drew says, him and Scott smooshed into one lounge chair,
"you can't go in the pool until you shower the stench off!"


Iqbal had the right idea. Even though he and Wyatt had been assigned
kitchen duty, there wasn't A/C, but a bunch of fans in their workplace,
still having them work up quite a sweat. Smartly, Iqbal had led Wyatt to
the shower, which had Wyatt pranking Johnny.


Standing there, all that ginger-red fur staring him in the face, Wyatt
asks, "Well, do I pass your test, Johnny?"


Sitting there, Johnny, Jimi, Glenn and Hunter, it's Glenn's call, standing,
"Don't trouble yourself. I'll inspect him, Johnny!"


It went more like a porn novel, Glenn having Wyatt place both hands behind
his head.


"Hmm, pits smell clean," Glenn lowers his head to take a whiff.


Sitting there, Johnny asks, "Is that weird or what?"


Hunter, without naming names, says, "Some guys like it when you lick their
pits."


"Ick!" was Johnny's response, his whole face mashed up!


"Don't worry," Jimi curls an arm around Johnny, "I don't get into that
creepy stuff!"


Though, not a stranger to raunch, Wyatt says so only Glenn can hear,
"Wouldn't mind having my tongue give your smelly pits a workover?!"


"Good to know," Iqbal cuts in. Then, to Glenn, "Does he pass the test?"


Wyatt was a beautiful, even more so at 29-years old, maturing from a hot 18
and carrying the good looks through the twenty-something-years. Stylish
haircut, given the free will to bend in whichever way it went, his full
beard was clipped so as not to turn him into a billy-goat! From the top of
his shoulders, to the shins of his legs the ginger-red fur extended in one
sheet. It's only at different spots it stood as an accent, thicker
midchest, division of the abs, treasure trail to pubes and as he liked it,
thick pits.


Iqbal wasn't as furry, modest amount of pec hair, but how Wyatt loved
making a slurpy meal of his stomach, working his way down to the prize!


>From the questionable look on Iqbal's face, the way he pause, Glenn saw
that maybe he was cutting into another man's action, "Oh, are you two
together, Iqbal?"


"We are," replies the 20-year old mechanic saying, on the sly, "but I
welcome another mouth. One is fun, but two is like fuckin' awesome!"


"Uh," Glenn had other thoughts on it, thinking by scratching his head,
"I'll take a pass on that one. Besides," he looks towards Jimi, "I got a
guy over there."


All ears, Slim butts in, "I love the taste of a sweaty man. Uh, you got a
nice, pungy-tasting navel, by chance, needing to be cleaned out?" the
former taxi driver flashes the signature smile, whole beard making him look
like he's made up to be a circus clown.


Then it became a contest, Wyatt thinking Slim was stealing his action,
"Okay, but I get Iq's hairy ass!"


Iqbal loved it, two men after his fur...loved having two men fight over his
cock and balls...even more so, liked calling the shots, choosing an ass to
fuck, making one or the other get in line for a real bangin'. At 5'9-inches
tall, he could really get into telling other guys what to do. Besides,
those guys of his past found out quick, how a dude of short height, he
could sure make a dent, when firm and at ramming speed!


"Last call for lunch?" Ernesto came out, ringing a bell.


Of course, it was the first call to lunch, Ernesto with the belief, if a
man were hungry enough, he only needed to ring the bell once.


Drew and Scott, walking in together, though not even at the stage of
holding hands, does call attention to the fact it looked as if they
naturally gravitated towards each other, "Our own fault for hanging out
together too often, I reckon."


"What is?" Scott, still a little light headed, walks into the dining room.


"Kevyn and Jeremi. You must've noticed how they, like us, are kind of
`together'?"


"Oh," Scott quips, like waking up from a dreamworld, "Are we together?"


"Not sure," Drew remarks.


"Oh? And how would that go?"


Smiling, a bit embarrassed to say, Drew opens up, "The first time I lay
eyes on you, I zeroed in on those bold, worked out pecs and the ornament
adorning each one."


Scott quizzes, "Ornaments are they?" He looks down at his chest. With the
khaki shirt, the tightness of working out, doing a miraculous number of
push ups, it's apparent, Drew's attraction, the buttons of his shirt
stretched, tiny nubs seen through the fabric, which has him agreeable, "Oh,
right."


Meant as compliment, "What guy doesn't want to grab hold of your nips and
give them a tweaking?" Drew tries pushing his theory.


It made Scott laugh, at the humor of Drew's words, then sensitivity from
all this talk, mashing up muscle-talk with what he was feeling, "Oh, don't
make me go there anymore."


Drew thought, `Hmm, are we both on the same page by all this kinky talk?'
tortured by having the ever-perky nips showing right through Scott's shirt.


Then, like he read Drew's mind, which leaves the 22-year old amazed, Scott
says, "I have a feeling there's going to be more pushups in my future
life!"


What Drew was thinking, made him smile, `I'd sure like to replace those
pushups!'


Some had walked right off the patio, which half-dressed, shirtless, they
were turned away from the dining room. But no, some, like Drew and Scott
had the decency `to dress' for a meal.


Sometimes starvation would make a man run as fast as he can, get a quick
dousing under the showerhead and dress appropriately, hoping all the
entrees weren't gone by the time they returned.


It did the trick, though some cut out the showering until later, covering
up the stench with deo-spray or having a guy take the flowery stick and
paint backs and chests with it. Some did get carried away, or rather
tempted, coating wiry pubes!


Iqbal thought of it, which kind of started him on a night of getting his
jollies. Standing there in one of the cottages, he

dropped the towel, telling Wyatt to do the same.


"We're not showering?" Wyatt asks.


"You crazy? They're having barbecued beef tonight. If we want more than our
share, we better hurry. Here," Iqbal hands Wyatt a can and a deo-stick.


"Which one should I use?"


"They're not for you, dummy. Just get busy and do me."


"Really?" Wyatt could go either way.


"No, moron. First wipe the stick up and down my back, then chest, stomach,
around my cock and balls and then spray me down."


"Wouldn't it be easier to shower?" Wyatt held out for a handjob, at least!


"Yeah, but not as fun...now wax me!"


Doing what was suggested, Wyatt uncapped the stick and began painting
Iqbal's back. He thought it would be fun, painting a line down Iqbal's
hairy ass-crack.


It had Iqbal jump forward, "Not there, you idiot!"


When it came to the pits, it was like a sin on Wyatt's lips, applying some
cheap store bought item, instead of tasting the sweet, hairy treat. Yet, he
knew about everyone being hungry and the barbecue beef would provide more
protein than bits of hairy fibers. Though, Wyatt was close to drooling.


"What are you doing, Wy?"


"You!"


"What's the hold up?"


"You!"


"Give me that," he steals the stick away from Wyatt, "turn around!"


"You're the man," Wyatt giggles.


After a few strokes of Iqbal's tool, the deo-stick, painted down his
shoulder blades, Wyatt had a sneaky suspicion, looking down his dark
ginger, furry front, yep, he had a boner!


Worse, Iqbal couldn't help but paint the fibers of Wyatt's red-haired ass,
inserting the stick where he should not be going!


"Oh yeah...go further...further!"


"If I wanted to fuck you, I would've used my cock, moron!"


Without feeling, Wyatt says in a remorseful tone, "Too bad we don't have
time for that."


His sneaky suggestion didn't pan out.


However, the whole ordeal wasn't only goading Wyatt on, "Some things just
need waiting."


Slapped on the ass, a little push added, Wyatt falls on the bed.


Coming around the bed, Wyatt looks up, "Oh shucks, I thought you were gonna
fuck me!"


Though, Iqbal was holding his softened 8c, right there almost in Wyatt's
face, "Without lubing it up?"


"Oh right. Bring it here."


Iqbal was faked out. Instead of taking Wyatt by his mane of hair and
forcing his cock in, the way he liked to play it, mean and rough, Wyatt
reaches out, grabs his balls and reels the 20-year old in by his orbs!


%


Perhaps Drew was wishful thinking, not that he didn't like Kevyn anymore,
but was growing attached to Scott. Approaching the long table, where he sat
with Jeremi, Drew asks, "These seats taken?"


"Nope," Kevyn replies.


Jeremi says, "We were saving them for you and your boyfriend."


"Boyfriend?" Drew questions as he throws a leg over the bench.


Confession time, Kevyn says, "I was...well, we were hoping you and Scott
were getting more friendly with each other?"


"Oh, I see," Drew acts like he's not happy.


Scott, a plateful atop one hand, beer bottle in the other, says of the
empty setting, "Saving this for someone?"


"Yeah, you," Drew replies, "and by the way, we both just got dumped!"


He was about to say, what they talked about not less than ten minutes ago,
"Oh really? Like when did this happen?"


Not sure whether it was instigated by Drew or the other two, Scott left it
vague, whether he care or not.


"It's our faults," Jeremi says, Kevyn adding, "we found we happen to like
each other," Jeremi jumping in, "a lot!"


Turning to Scott, Drew sympathizes, "What do you think, Scott, should we
forgive them?"


"I think I can find it in my heart to do that. Pass the salt?"


Drew had to admit to himself, maybe it were the nips which grabbed his
attention. Then again, if he handled the rest of the anatomy, maybe Scott
would grow on him!


%


Right before he was to give a little `before dinner' speech, wrapping up a
successful day of their first detail, bringing down the barn, Zack, whom
had been working in the kitchen, comes to the table, whispering something
in Ethan's ear.


"You don't say?" Ethan replies, acting surprised.


>From there, he removes the napkin from his lap, dabs his lips, stands and
walks out.


In the lobby, Ethan is surprised, "Cain? What are you doing here?"


With panic, Cain replies, "Sorry for putting you on the spot, but I think
you know what I've been going through at home and...and I just can't take
it anymore," he rushes into Ethan's arms.


"Of course I know, but it's come to this?"


Backing off, Cain pouts, "You said if I ever needed anything, you were
there for me? Are you there for me or?"


"Of course I'm here for you. One question though, do your folks know you
left home?"


He assumed Cain had up and hitchhiked out to the canyon, pack still on his
back, another on the floor.


"Sort of. They weren't home when I left, so I left them a note."


Truth be told, his mother's sister and her husband were first class world
travelers. Most of the time they would fly to their destination either for
pleasure, or `the business.' Hardly ever did they take the boys, nowadays,
Cain 18-years old, his brother, Carson, 20. Ethan had promised his sister
years ago, if anything happened to them, he would personally see to the
boys' upbringing. Now, here was one of them on his doorstep, but not for
the reason intended.


"Have you had anything to eat lately?"


"The line dancing place up the road. The owner gave me a free meal," Cain
says, picking up his gear.


"Oh how sweet," Zack smiles.


"Uh, Zack, don't you have something to do in the kitchen?"


"Yeah," Zack is a bit embarrassed for honing in on the cousins'
conversation, "the eggs should be hardboiled by now."


"Here, let me handle that," Ethan pries the pack off Cain's back, takes the
gym bag. "What have you got in here?"


"A pair of dumbbells."


Walking back to the dining hall, Cain following, Ethan makes small talk,
"You still working out?"


"Of course."


In the past few months, Ethan has noticed, his cousin getting a little
sassy. Then again, Cain is a teenager, still in those teen years and
without much parental supervision, was in need of an attitude
adjustment. Sam popped into his head, but not solely. Slowly, Edward...


"You can sit with me," Ethan places Cain's worldly goods near the wall.


"Wow, Ethan," Cain scans the room, "looks like you lucked out!"


"Is this why you ran away from home?" Ethan is suspicious.


"Um? They wouldn't know I've run away until the house sitter talks to them
and I don't think it'll be anytime soon."


"Oh no!" Ethan is half-mad, the other half feeling a tad of humor strike
him, "Tell me you didn't, Cain?"


"I had to defend myself. Steve wouldn't let me leave the house if he knew I
was running away and you know what a keen sense of stuff he has?" Cain
says, like pleading.


Having shared much with Cain over the years, being they are both gay, Ethan
has acted much like the father Cain never had, because the old man was
always working. His mom, Ethan's aunt, when she wasn't running in `art
world' circles, there was something else to occupy her time and it wasn't
her sons. Being more a brother, than cousin, it's something Ethan was
compelled to do, starting with Carson, now in college. For years, Carson
had been pestering Ethan about how it felt to be gay and probably. Both, as
boys and young men, had a better understanding of the `gay world', than
math!


Knowing Cain, in particular, had other hobbies, off the wall stuff, Ethan
asks, "And where, pray tell, did you leave Steve tied up?"


"In the kitchen, tied eagle-spread to the counter top. I don't think he can
get out of it on his own," Cain said it, like maybe someone should go fetch
him!


"A former SWAT-man like Steve, I'm sure with the practice you have had at
your Japanese rope tricks, he could very well starve before getting himself
loose?"


Joking, knowing Steve has slipped a little since his `SWAT-team' days,
turned into more, swat-the-belly, "You aren't going to tell on me, are
you?"


First, to show Cain, whom Ethan knew could be very sensitive to how a
situation is handled, shows he's not angry, "Bet it took quite a bit of
rope to work it over that big gut of his?"


Shrugging his shoulders, sensing Ethan not too bent out of shape over
trying out his bondage skills on the house-sitter, "And Steve's big balls?"


Smirking, shaking his head, "What am I supposed to tell the cops? Steve
tied himself up?" Ethan says.


"Cops? I thought you worked for this CK guy. Doesn't he have connections?"
Cain preys on Ethan's `connections.'


It was on the tip of Ethan's tongue, wondering how Cain happened to come by
this information, but then the man himself shows up, "Did someone mention
my name?"


"Chill, Cayman. This is my cousin, Cain and he just turned `legal' age."


"What a lovely man," CK is glad to hear it.


A little more adamant than Ethan, Cain butts into his business, "Do you
have some guy who can go back to my house and untie my babysitter?"


"What?!" CK is shocked, entertained and thinks it's hilarious, "Your
babysitter? Tied up? Aren't you a little too old for a babysitter?"


Ethan pries CK's hand off Cain's shoulder, takes the helm, "Long story,
Cayman. It's complicated. Um, can you call someone, maybe Chico, and have
him go out to Cain's house, as a favor to me? And oh, the babysitter isn't
some granny from across the street. He's the family guardian, takes care of
the kids while the `rents are traveling the world. I wouldn't take it too
lightly when he gets untied. Former SWAT team member, y'know?"


"Favor to you?" CK whips out his cell, "And are you kidding, I got just the
man for you!"


Before Chico took off for the East coast, he was granted some vacation
time, Eric tagging along with him.


When Ethan hears CK mention Chico's name, he says to Cain, "Oh
yeah. Chico's the man!"


"Former SWAT too?" Cain asks.


"No, but I think Chico might have a little fun with Steve, before untying
him!"


"Great," Cain says, without enthusiasm, "then they should get along real
well, like two peas in a pod!"


Ethan smiles, thinking about it, Cain forever using that phrase, "Hmm, I
wonder where Eric will fit in."


Cain asks, "Who's Eric?"


Before Ethan could explain, CK's off the phone, saying all was in good
hands.


"But you don't have my address?" Cain questions CK.


"Don't need it. Everything's in Ethan's file. Trust me, Chico's on it!"


Which incites Ethan to think on about it, Steve, in addition to the fun
Chico is gonna have, before releasing Steve from his bondage, he's gonna be
`on it!'


"Uh, refresh my memory, Cain, is Steve gay or straight?"


"Straight. Why?"


Both knew the score, Steve hating it when Cain did this to him. It's not
the first time. Once, Steve thought he could outfox Cain, mentioning Navy
knots, but wound up being the one subdued. First time it was the bed, Steve
having to wait until Cain came back from the gym to be untied.


It became an ordeal for the straight man, Cain stripping down out of the
gym fatigues and daring to lie down, eagle-spreading arms and legs, right
on top of him. That was with his clothes on.


Next time it happened, it also caught Steve off guard, condemning himself
for falling prey to Cain lassoing him in the basement. It was also the
first time Steve got the idea of Cain's gay tendencies. Flinging his bod on
top of him, the last time, he thought it was a `guy' thing. However, tied,
in the basement, eagle-spread from the rafters, using 50-lb. dumbbells for
ankle weights, then playing hands over pecs, stomach, cock and balls, Steve
got the idea Cain was more than `straight!'


Apparently Steve wasn't phased by this, used to Cain practicing Japanese
bondage on him. Picking up a few tips along the way, Cain trusted Steve to
practice on him. What Cain derived from this experience, a top guy couldn't
be effective, unless he knew all the tricks, which being a bottom, gave him
that opportunity.


So, the last time he skillfully tethered Steve to the kitchen butcher block
table, was of a willingness on his `baby' sitter's part.


He furthers his tale, on a line for BBQ, "Way before I tied Steve down,
I..."


Cutting Cain off, Ethan smiles, "Uh, why don't we leave the rest of your
story till later?"


"Oh," Cain looks around, "uh, sure," knowing Ethan didn't want curious ears
listening in.


"Well..." Ethan smiles, changing the subject real quick, "I guess Chico's
in for a real treat!"


Though, Ethan's not sure Cain heard him, sampling everything with a finger,
before placing it on his plate.


On the other side of the buffet, Ethan looks up. He could only speculate
what that was about, Hunter giving Cain his full attention. Though, he knew
they were both the same age and as it goes, it's not only that opposites
attract!


%



Copyright 2015 T. Chase McPhee


`ALeK iN wONdeRfULaNd', and developing segments of this story, may not be
sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the
author.