Date: Wed, 16 Jan 2013 09:57:23 -0800 (PST)
From: Tchase Mcphee <survivalgame@rocketmail.com>
Subject: A NiFTy LiTTLe TALe 14

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 any
state (21yo in Alabama, Mississippi, Wyoming, Nebraska), or in most
countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your
local laws regarding such.

Following, 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.

%


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donation$ to provide these wonderful $tories.
http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

FYI: I don't get a hefty paycheck from NiFTy at the end of the month. I
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keep these stories coming to you.

%

A NiFTy LiTTLe TALe 14
WriTten by T. Chase McPhee

^o^

"Oh my god, will you look at this?!" Kevin exclaims, after descending the
stairs.

Casually ignoring the mess, kitchen island loaded with open bags of bread,
lids off peanut butter, jelly, mustard, mayo, you name it, a knife sticking
out of each one, Virgil sums up,"They might have brilliance upstairs, but
getting down to it, they're a bunch of slobs."

Picking up two empty packages, Kevin says, "I don't believe it! These cold
cuts were supposed to last me into the middle of the week!"

Coming straight from the bedroom, Virgil's humor lingers, "If you get hard
up for some meat, I know where you can get some?"

Smirking, tapping five fingers on the counter in succession, with no known
tune in mind, Kevin replies, "By the way, thanks for the blowjob."

Working his way around Kevin's side of the counter, Virgil replies, butting
bellyhole up to bellyhole, "Well, I usually have the main meal before
dessert!"

"Great," Kevin replies, "next time start with my ass!"

At least Virgil's thinking, there being a next time, it was reason enough
to feel something happening to his covered up loins. Like that, it took
more than one emptying of his balls to satisfy a sexual whim.

"Hey!" Xeno walks in, right over to the counter. Picking up a baggie,
looking over the white, waxy paper inside, the Greek asks, "Got anymore
roast beef?"

Kevin was ready to say something, like who's paying for cleaning out his
fridge, but seeing Virgil's eyes glued to the college frat, he cut Xeno
some slack. After all, he rationalizes it, wasn't only Xeno eating off the
kitchen counter. Dropping subtle hint, Kevin replies, "No. You guys cleaned
me out!"

Five minutes behind Xeno, Jordan Curlew enters, bod hair showing he had
just exited the pool, "I took five minutes with the guys. They wanted to
show me their aquatic skills, but I thought maybe I should double back to
the kitchen and clean up before you," the young language arts prof
addresses Kevin, not sure if he should draw Virgil into the conversation,
and especially because it's in front of Xeno, "finish taking your nap."

Xeno, letting out an evil laugh, sets Jordan straight, "Trust me, neither
were getting much sleep!" Realizing he might have overstepped his
boundaries, being in the company of the three professors, "I mean... maybe
they were? Just sayin'," he bows out, slipping out the back door.

Slipping past Jordan's back, Virgil says, "I better go make sure everyone
is behaving!"

Jordan shoots back with, "Oh they are... Not!" Laughs!  Going to it, Jordan
starts pulling knives out of jars and capping them.

"You don't have to do that," Kevin says of it, busying himself with
collecting empty deli wrappers.

"I know I don't, but I want to!"

"Okay," is all Kevin says in response to words and the quirky little smile.

"By the way, you have a really nice place here, not to mention two swimming
pools?" Jordan exclaims.

Kevin goes into explaining his skills, acquired since he moved into the
house with his parents, aged seven.

"I think someone mentioned, your parents are artists?"

"Were. They're both deceased," Kevin says.

"Oh. Sorry," Jordan moving right along, "I have an appreciation for art
myself."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. I used to do paint-by-numbers when I was little. Strange thing, you
can't get them anymore."

Kevin lends excuse, "Everything's digital now."

"Almost," Jordan says in a strange manner, whereas it leaves a person with
a sense of something to follow.

Nothing came, so Kevin asks, "What isn't digital?"

"Sex?"

Now, there was a deli sampling, food for thought, Kevin smiling, wondering
where or how far Jordan wanted to go with this hypothesizing, "Digital
sex... I wonder if there is such a thing?!"

Each reaches across the counter to grab some used napkins, Kevin reaching
destination first, Jordan's hand grabbing the back of Kevin's hand, "Oops!"

"Some grip! Good thing it wasn't my balls!"

Which aligned the conversation enough for Jordan to ask, "You and Virgil,
you took a long time upstairs?"

Okay, so Kevin now knew where Jordan was headed with this, come full
circle, no lies, no fibbing, "Let's just say Virgil is a talented
cocksucker?"

It made Jordan laugh. He didn't think Kevin would be so blunt. Then again,
Jordan wasn't saying anything which would suggest a long, drawn out
explanation, "Oh, and you don't suck cock?"

"Nothing that will poke me in the tonsils." Stopping suddenly, Kevin adds,
"Oh wait. I ain't got no tonsils!" he laughs.

"Hmm," Jordan wisely follows up, "should make it easier going down?!"

There was a lot of laughing!

Wishful thinking, or maybe because Jordan was being so cute, or jealous?
Kevin laughs beyond Jordan cutting off the flow of humor.

Typical, the 24-year old taking it the wrong way, of what he just said,
"Oh, so you don't `take', you only `give'?"

It wasn't why Kevin laughed, a gut reaction to something he thought was
funny, though now Jordan bringing it out in the open, he didn't want to
have this conversation to dead-stop right now, like it was just getting
started; "I don't like putting labels on things," theorizing, "two guys get
into bed and if one is on the same vibes as the other, things just come
together as it is willed."

"Deep," Jordan replies.

`Deep,' the word made Kevin think of something else, but because his mind
was still set on `theories', "Tell me now, when's the last time you were in
bed with a man, whom crawled in with you, only to find neither of you
compatible?"

"Do you have a degree in psychology, by chance?"

"No," Kevin pauses, "but I'm a classroom scientist, which means a person
always has to leave room for doubt. It's what makes a man search for the
truth."

"I don't get it though."

Cocking his head at an angle, Kevin asks, "What is it you don't get,
Jordan?"

He smiles, sending a message this was no big deal, Jordan saying, "Seems to
me this is an awfully long and winded route," treasure trails begin to rub
on each other, "for two guys to find out, if they are compatible?"

"Pushing it, aren't you?" Kevin asks forwardly, a few fingers dangling from
an elbow resting on the countertop, parallel with Jordan's speedo line.

"I could, given the chance!" Jordan retaliates, pulsing his torso forwards.

Because they haven't moved much from rubbing treasure trails, Kevin
replies, "I go on instinct," like, Kevin has no idea what that means!

"I'd like to try out your theory sometime?"

If they were two inches closer to each other, they would have found some
kind of bonding...

"Bring it on!" Kevin laughs.

Already infatuated with Kevin's swimmers build, Jordan rekindles his gaze
and out of 5 minutes ago, getting `beeped' by Jason in the pool, "You've
really got a nice chest, Kevin."

"Do I now?" Kevin allows Jordan to fondle his defined pecs, running hands
along the ridges from armpits to mid-chest.

"By the way," he looks into Kevin's eyes, then back to his own hands
turning Kevin's nips hard, "what is this `beeping' thing with Jason?"

Scathing over Kevin's lightly-haired pecs, instead of tweaking up hard nips
with his thumbs and fingers, Jordan sucks his right thumb, wetting it with
a glob of saliva and adheres it to Kevin's left nip. Using his hand against
the pectoral line, Jordan rubs the wet juice into the stiff nub.

"Ooh-h-h," Kevin replies, "I don't know what Jason has going for himself,
but if you don't happen to know it, Jordan, you've got a hot touch
yourself?"

His eyes wandering from his labors, Jordan asks, "I can tell... you hate
it, right?" Along with his words, putting ideas into Kevin's head, Jordan
sucks his other thumb!

"What's this?" Kevin looks to his other nip, being tantalized by Jordan's
other hand.

Laughing, Jordan says, "Um, `Jason' in slow motion?"

Cooing from the affects of fingers and thumbs' gentle massage, Kevin jokes,
"Keep it up and you're gonna start a chain reaction!"

"Oh really?" Jordan butts his speedo up to Kevin's boxer shorts, "I think
it's already in motion!"

Suddenly, from the direction of the front door,"At least you guys are
having fun!" Walking over to the counter, tasting some tidbit of leftovers,
"I let myself in."

"Apparently!" Kevin replies.

Surprised at the intruder, apparently finding his way silently through the
front entrance, Kevin grabs Jordan at the wrists. Of course he could not
hide the evidence, his hardened nips, "Jeadi! Where did you come from... I
mean go?"

Rifling through the remainders on the kitchen island, Jeadi replies,
"Poul. Took him to a shrink I know. He'll be okay. What's to eat? I'm
starving."

Second time Jeadi has been to Kevin's house, first being a `guy-faculty'
barbecue last summer, he finds it no problem to walk right over to the
refrigerator, open it and hanging with an armpit over the door, bends to
look into it.

"Mm-mm," Jordan says, "I think I see something `I' like!"

Knowing Jordan was eyeing up Jeadi's ass, Kevin replies, "I bet you say
that to all the boys!"

"Nah." Changes his opinion, "Uh, yeah, most, but only take action with
`some' of them!"

"Hey," Kevin nicely cautions, Jordan's palm holding his right ass cheek,
"you're really intent on making me hard, aren't you?"

Smiling, Jordan replies, "Too bad you've got these boxers on... A man likes
to know what he's got to work with!"

"My god!" Kevin exclaims out, with a a tinge of Southern accent, "You sure
are a horny bastard!"

Dropping his hand from Kevin's mound, because Jeadi has given up his
search, Jordan asks, not expecting return, "And you're not?"

Turning around, Jeadi, who has secretly mulled over the contents of every
shelf, to intrude on their conversation, "You should call out for
pizza... Don't you shop?!"

He leaves Kevin and Jordan alone, stripping off his tank top, Jeadi heading
out the back door.

Jordan says, "Subtle hint Jeadi dropped there!"

"Yeah," Kevin replies, "almost as subtle as your hand on my ass!"

He would have loved to carry this farther, but Jordan knew this wasn't the
time. The place? It wouldn't be the first time he has had sex in the
kitchen, but his main concern, as already proven, was the in and out
traffic. Keen to this ideal, he says, "What's the number of the pizza
place?"

"I can call."

"No," Jordan takes the upper hand, "you go up and change into
something... `Uncomfortable'," he snickers, "and I'll order up some pizza,
on me!"

"Okay, but one last thing."

"What?"

Placing a hand on Jordan's shoulder, Kevin let it slide down his back,
which drew their bods into close proximity of delivering a sweet kiss!

^ o ^

For Evan Puttski, choosing to be a policeman has had it's advantages,
outweighing the disadvantages. In small town America, whereas the police
force encompasses demographics of a tiny population spread out over a mass
of landscape, it touted the ability to maintain minute amounts of personnel
whereas public service was concerned.

To his disadvantage, Evan was on call and being a part of a small police
force, he always had a different chore to manage at the oddest
hours. Therefore, he gave up on trying to build a relationship with a man
and instead pursued his career, with occasional hoodwinks, sexual
encounters popping up in unplanned stages of doing his duty. At 28-years
old, he figured on thirty being the twilight of his years setting in, as
far as meeting up with a guy and settling down.

Part of this centered on his immediate family life. Up until 2 years ago,
his father still lived in town. Owning one of the lush, lux homes up on
West Hills, a mansion down the road from the Leeds house, his father was
also very involved in the Altoni Manfredi Institute For Higher
Learning. Matter of fact, Evan's father had been a student at one time,
graduated from both the high school and college divisions, going on to make
his fortune in recyclable plastics. He even became friends with the last of
the Manfredi dynasty. However, both of them were gone, Aldo Manfredi moving
back to Italy, to his retirement villa, the elder Puttski passing on to the
next life.

Looking back on the empire which built the home Evan grew up in, he always
had this sense of `protection', both for himself and his father's
legacy. Matter of fact, when it comes down to the wire, Manfredi really
owes its `life and breath' to the endowment from his father. But, for Evan,
it goes beyond it. He could have continued in his father's footsteps, but
he wasn't a business person, not like his older brother, Sean.

From earlier on, watching movies like `The Untouchables' and Tv shows
replicating life as a person eager to uphold the statutes of law
enforcement, had positive attributes towards Evan's interest in pursuing a
degree in criminology.

Though, he very well knew what Samuele Hawkins-Jones held as a hobby, plus
under-the-table business venture. First thing which disturbed Evan, about
Hawkins, was the BMW, which he knew could not be obtained on a headmaster's
salary. Sure, like himself, Hawkins could have attained wealth from family
inheritance, except for, after doing a little research, found from little
loopholes in Hawkins' resumes, small details left off paper, everything
wasn't as honest as things looked!

After a while, allowing things to play out, he found just how Samuele
Hawkins-Jones achieved his own status of wealth, stashed away in a Swiss
banking account, waiting for it to look legit enough to retire.

Evan had wondered how long this has been going on. In his quest to find
out, found more information than he needed. Digging deeper, into Hawkins'
life before hitting the Manfredi scene, he found out this money-making
scam, which coupled with special, sexually inhibited activity, is what
Hawkins considered a step towards early retirement.

Yet, being Evan's father had been meshed with the structure of Manfredi and
since he held his dad in high admiration, taking down the headmaster and
his operation would need to a planned, meticulous plan of spiraling
downfall. Only, as far as his plan went, doing something which would not
give Manfredi Institute the bad side of publicity, his plans for demise had
to be a subtle approach.

Along with taking matters to the personal level, Evan had always kept it in
mind, it might come at any time. Bryan and Barry's find, in the ravine,
became the moment of hasty decision.

In his uniform, Evan boasted a workout bod, complete with his uniform
looking like his biceps would overwhelm the short sleeves. Buzzcut hair, he
could have passed for a drill sergeant. As such, the appearance was enough
to intimidate any would be criminal, which Evan found to his advantage in
some tight situations.

When he got Samuele home, his home, it was no chore whatsoever hauling a
man almost his height, 6'2, up the stairs.

While doing so, he made comment, "Sammy-baby, it looks like you're reign
has come to an end!"

Evan laughed, knowing it to be the case, however he slowly returned to a
slight shivery feeling, wondering if his plan would come to fruition,
driving the headmaster to resignation. There was always an option for
forgery, however it would be better if the Hawkins ended his employment
with Manfredi, on friendlier terms.

Living in the same house as he had done when a kid, through teenage years,
now it was deserted, except for himself. Once in a great while his older
brother, Sean would stop by, but always called. Great, because sometimes
Evan would like some kinky play of his own and cleaning up a `mess' on that
scale took time.

Such good friends with Bryan and Barry, over a sixpack, beer, Evan first
spilled the very idea of the headmasters' Saturday night `get togethers';
betting on wrestling matches, whereas college boys were pitted against each
other and for the right price, one could be coerced into fighting two. The
deeper Hawkins got into the setup, more elaborate `games' were added, as
well as extra `props', all at a cost to the players, mostly built on
fantasy situations.

It had been Evans' indoctrination into the world of bdsm, mixed with gay
sex, the day he pulled over a flashy, gold-toned Mercedes
convertible. Through meeting up with a certain guy, it changed how he
looked at purely gay sex.

Speeding down a country road, Mack Savage thought it was an okay thing to
do, especially since he was running late with a new client, plus wanted to
test the speed of his new Mercedes. Being he had returned home, just
passing through between here and there, he knew this the road less
traveled, after the interstate was put in, which meant he could get away
with driving the speed upwards to 100mph.

Things change, as it did for the high school bully, in the days when he and
Evan Puttski were teenagers. He might have been able to beat a wrap on
extortion and mistreating guys in high school, but could not argue over the
speed trap set up by Evan, in truth, to catch speeding high school or
college students.

Evan, as he undressed Samuele, pictured it like it was just happening,
walking up to the door, the window zipping down and catching the habitual,
"Was I doing something wrong, officer?"

Complying, Evan had the driver's license and registration in his hand, but
could believe it, saying in his partially manufactured gruff voice, "Step
out of the car, please." He even opened it for the driver.

"If it's a problem, I'm sure we can work it out, officer?" said as the
driver exited his car.

Evan couldn't believe the name on the driver's license, if this indeed was
Mack Savage, from high school, otherwise known as the guy, when you saw him
coming, you ducked out on a different path.

Before he got to quiz the driver, the driver asks, "You grow up around
these parts?"

Still, his mind on comparison, the `Mack' from high school, even though a
bully, didn't resemble one, slim vs. his wide shoulders and obvious tucked
in abs, hard to tell from the dress shirt. Though, he play along,
"Yeah. Grew up in West Hills. You?"

For both, the police officer's uniform didn't seem to hinder Mack's
interest, "West Hills, eh?"

Criminology was his major in college. Evan knew investigative tactics. What
he was reading, the driver was from around here and judging from the motor
vehicle paperwork, even though the address was different, along with the
total appearance, this indeed was the person everyone in high school knew
as a `hood' or `bully'!

"You were speeding, Mack."

From his statement, Mack `knew' this was the same `Evan Puttski',
responding, "You were a fat punk in high school. You filled out nice."

Mack `glanced', but Evan kept tuned into serving the ticket.

"I'd say the same for you, but what about the speeding, Mack?"

Letting out a little giggle, Mack dwells on old times, "Hey, remember the
time I had Garth put you in a full nelson and I socked you in the stomach
with my fist?"

Writing out the ticket, Mack replies, "Those days are gone," he writes with
haste, signing his name to the ticket.

Handing it over, Mack says, "How would you like to get even? Put those guns
to work?"

"Your ticket, Mack," Evan replies, stuffing it into the pocket of his dress
shirt.

Yet, as Evan did, the back of his hand felt the hard pec meat of Mack's
chest. He knew, from his own experience, it took a lot of gym sessions to
build a physique such as his own and what perceives of Mack's muscular
armor.

"Strong hands," Mack puts a hand to his pocket, where the ticket resides,
"nearly ripped the pocket off my shirt!"

Fluttering the comment aside, Evan says, "You can go now."

What he didn't expect, is Mack placing his palm dead center on his chest,
saying, "Hold on a second, Puttski."

"Mack, you've got 2 seconds to remove your hand from my uniform?"

"Really?" Mack replies, turning the wrist of his other arm to gaze at his
watch.

Thinking Mack was trying to exercise his bullied self once more, regardless
of the uniform, something welled up inside of him, the chance meeting
causing harsh memories of Garth holding him in a full nelson more than
once, Evan lets loose...

"Ughhhhh-h-h-h-h! Oh shit!"

Looking down, Evan sees Mack on his knees, suit pants digging into the
dusty shoulder at the side of the road, Mack's arms doubled over his abs.

Knowing he only gave Mack a sucker-punch, Evan talks down to him, "I can't
believe a muscle guy like you can't take a little sucker punch!"

He was being cautious, not because of apparitions of how Mack was about 10
years ago, but part out of instinct.

Getting up, Evan got quite a different picture of Mack, "Is that all you
can do?"

"I'm on duty Mack, besides I'm not in the mood for having it out with you."

Off in a different realm, Mack replies, "Back in high school you were
gay. Everyone knew it."

"I'm out and no one cares, if that's what you're driving at Mack."

Mack thought it the perfect lead in, "Yeah, me too."

"You're what?" Evan didn't get it.

"I know I act straight, but..."

"You're... gay?"

Both froze, letting the revealing news set in.

Evan refutes, "But back in high school?" points over his shoulder, down the
road, back to ten years ago in high school.

"I know. I guess I didn't want to be singled out, even though you did fine
with it. It wouldn't have fared well either for me, if the `rents found
out. I mean, what would I have done today if it wasn't for my inheritance?"

That was then, different times. How many times would Evan hear the same
story, or others, with gay youth passing through town, on their way to no
place, "I understand."

Maybe Evan understood, but Mack didn't, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Evan replies, starting for his patrol car.

Again, the `stop sign' hand presses against Evan's chest, "You have no
desire to get even, Puttski?"

Again, the investigative side kicking back in, Evan interrogates, "What do
you want, Mack?"

Dropping his hand, Mack simply says, "Revenge?"

Evan replies, "Revenge never did anyone a bit of good, Mack. So, if I were
you, I'd forget it."

"No, I didn't mean `me' getting revenge. I meant I wondered about you?"

It was mystifying to Evan, something of which they didn't teach you in
school, "Want to run that by me again, Mack?"

Mack was glad of one thing, the cop was listening to him, so with the
interest invested, "Tell me," Mack sidetracks himself, "whew! Hot out here
in the sun," he loosens his tie, the top button of his dress shirt, removes
sunglasses and tucks them in with the ticket, "if you desired to get
revenge..."

Throwing up both hands, stopping Mack, Evan says, "Hold it right there. I'm
not about to implicate myself in anything and..."

"I was only going to offer you a blowjob, that's all, Puttski."

"You want to give me a blowjob, Mack?"

"Right. I figure it's the least I could do, for giving you such a hassle in
high school?"

Something which Evan did often, when thinking he heard something wrong,
sticks a finger in his ear, pops it back out, clearing the air in his
eardrum, "Let me get this straight. You want to give `me' a blowjob?"

He knew it was entirely opposite thinking, comparing to how he bullied guys
in high school, explains, "I know it sounds bizarre, the whole thing, being
gay and now offering to suck your cock..."

Mack goes into telling Evan how it all came about, going off to college and
expecting to come out, given the free atmosphere of university life.

"Oh my," Evan grew comfortable, as if in an easy chair, not sitting on the
guardrail to the right side of the Mercedes.

Mack beside him, his high school adversary told how he got drunk and
instead of just coming out, learned he wasn't only gay, but loved to suck
cock, lick ass and armpits. "I did it all, with no holds barred. It's like
I was catching up on time lost."

"All?" Evan grew interested in Mack's history. "Like how much `all'?"

"For awhile I got into the drug scene. You wouldn't believe what a guy on
drugs will do, Puttski." It then dawns on Mack, he's talking to a cop,
"Then again, I bet you do."

Right now, Evan wasn't feeling animosity towards Mack, but rather
sympathy. As has happened in his law enforcement career, there were some
who needed just an outlet for their feelings and emotions, "I might, Mack,
but I might not, if you want to expand on it."

Along with sharing himself, as counselor, Evan said the noonday sun was
getting the best of him as well and if they didn't get in the shade soon,
he'd be tearing his shirt off.

Leaving the scene of the pullover, Evan had gotten part of the picture,
bully-turned-submissive, Mack offering to lick every ounce of sweat off of
Evan's bod.

Instead, they agreed to meet up later.

When they finally did, Evan would claim Mack as being more of a sex-starved
animal than some of the guys he knew back in college. Too, those 4 years of
high school bullying seemed all worth the aggravation and torture, the way
Mack went at it, almost ripping the buttons off his uniform.

And... It wasn't like Mack headed straight for his cock and balls, but
rather, with preciseness, lapped at his muscular, hairy pecs like his
tongue was a paintbrush, painting his pecs with clear paint!

"Owch! That was my nip you bit into, Mack!" Evan griped, Mack getting a bit
too aggressive.

"Sorry, sir," he said, uprighting himself, putting his hands behind his
head, his cock and balls resting on Evan's abdominals.

Evan just smiled at the very thought, the tip of his cock feeling up
ass-hair!

"Like I told you," Mack said to Evan as they entered his home, shooting his
mouth off with excitement, "I owe you. I'm yours for whatever you want."

Downstairs, putting away a sixpack, Evan had learned the whole story, the
mix of drugs and drinking, sex with abandonment, Mack going with what felt
good, which was a revelation to his true side of imbibing in gay sex, laced
with kinky stuff.

Evan knew `about it', but never heard anyone, in the flesh, talk about
`it', learning first hand of Mack's experiences, like kneeling, hands
cuffed behind his back and having a room full of guys piss all over
him. Another tale Mack told of his college days, had him bent over a slab
of wood, arms stretched out wide, which held his bod in place, then two
guys forcing their hard rods into his ass.

At that point in Mack's story, Evan had ventured to say, "I hope you still
have a tight fit!"

They laughed, Mack replying, "It is what it is!"

Ascending the stairs, Evan had asked, "What's in the case?"

Mack, toting a long, leather duffle bag, replies, "I told you. To get your
revenge!"

He laughed, more like a howl, but of an animal, calling others to the
kill. Evan didn't get it then, but with Mack turning side saddle, scooting
off of the cop's stomach, he found out.

"Here, Puttski. Use it on me." Mack says, producing a small-handled whippy
thing, composed of 3 strands of leather.

He didn't give Evan much choice, tossing it mid-chest between the hairy
pecs.

Picking it up, by the handle, Evan twirls it around, asking, "Like, what am
I supposed to do with it?"

"Like dah, I bit your nip. Punish me!"

Still torn between then, high school, and now, Evan lays the leather thing
down next to him on the bed, "Punish you?" he questions Mack, once again
perched on the pedestal of Evan's rippled stomach, cock laying on balls,
nestled on a bed of furry abs.

"Yeah. It'll make me feel justified. In case you don't know, it's a
quirt. It's used for whipping. Go ahead. Use it on my cock and balls."

He had read, a case of accidental foolery, a gay couple, one
unintentionally whipping his partner between the legs, snapping him with a
towel, "You want me to what?" he knew, but questioned the act of striking
Mack in the nuts, "What happened to the toughguy in you?"

Moving back, allowing the tip of Evan's cock to scrape along his ass
crevice, which elicits total pleasure off of Evan's lips, Mack says, "Okay,
if it'll turn you on, I can do it to you?"

Holding out his hand, for Evan to hand him the quirt, Mack gave his
ultimatum.

"What are you, out of your tree? Nothing's going to touch my cock and balls
except your lips!"

Mack smiled. One way or the other, he loved Evan's response. "Okay, you
said it!" He said it, but Mack follows through, bending over, on his knees,
his mouth opening wide as he topples over onto his chest.

The quirt never came into play as intended, but feeling up his sore nip,
Evan did realize something about himself. How tenderness could be turned
into tenderizing, coupled with the smooth lips coursing up and down his
stiff shaft, slowly draping the tips of the quirt over his muscled pecs.

He couldn't believe how he lay there for two-plus hours, adhering to the
whims of Mack's sexual awareness, tossing and turning to accommodate the
former bully's tongue, on the small of his back, sliding down into his ass
crack, the pulling apart, insertion of what appeared to be a much-used
tongue.

"How did you get to be such a good ass licker, Mack?"

Slurping, Mack replies, "You want me to talk or tongue fuck you?"

"Stupid question!" he laughed, tapping Mack on the upper shoulder with the
quirt, much like the other half of the gay couple snapped towel. "Sorry,"
he said, seeing a small red welt.

Evan was totally shocked out of his gourd when, after another slurp, Mack
says, "You should do more of it," seeing question, "it'll encourage me!"

Pausing a moment, Mack's smiling face got back to work.

"No. That's okay," Evan replied. However, soon he got tired of playing up
tweaking his own nips, even though it felt super good, feeling it add to
keeping him hard.

Though, when Mack slapped Evan's thigh, a signal to turn back over to his
back, Mack makes the suggestion, "Hey, I got an idea!"

"I'm almost afraid to find out," Evan replies, but with open ears.

"Why don't I sit on your cock and while you're fucking me, you can hit my
cock and balls with the quirt?"

This time Evan couldn't fight the feeling Mack was projecting. It was like
a kid in a candy store drooling over a lollipop, though he resigned,
"Maybe."

Though, when he got his 9.5c firming planted in Mack's ass and like usual,
didn't have to do any work, Mack raising and lowering his bod, lifting off,
sliding back down the pole. Then Mack got greedy, "If you want this," his
ass motions upwards, down and stops, "you got to do me!"

"I `am' doing you, dah!" Evan replies.

Picking up the quirt from Evan's right side, Mack lays the fronds right on
his own balls, and like he's calling the shots, "Get to work. I don't
`work' unless you are too!"

With abandon, Evan picks up the quirt by its little handle, figuring, `if
that's what you want!', with thoughts of feeling his cock totally encased
in warmth, mixed with the wants and needs of his boyhood adversary, gets
everything back into motion, "Get moving!"

As Mack howled at the gesture, it sure did get him moving!

As for Evan Puttski, the idea of revenge never really came into play.

It could have been something of a comedy rip, Mack announcing, "I'm gonna
fuckin' come!"

"Oh no you don't.... Me first!"

Mack would swear later, even the two cocks up his ass weren't as fulfilling
as Evan's muscled hands on his shoulders, making him stay put, forcing his
cock up his ass as he unloaded.

At the end, Evan did get his revenge, after Mack shot his load onto Evan's
stomach, all the way up to between his pecs and then sandwiched down on top
of him.

They lay there panting, until Mack had to finally, `go', Evan barking
orders, "You're not going to leave me all scummy like this, are you?"

Mack had decided on the shower, whereas Evan recalled the term thrown
around loosely, `revenge', "What happened with feeling justified, Mack?"

He had started pulling his dress shirt on, one arm in the sleeve, taking it
off and lying down on the bed again.

Lying there, hands behind head, Evan says, "Ah, this is the life!"

Apparently Mack wasn't totally satisfied, licking his way down to Evan's
hairy pubes!

It seems like this one incident led the way for several eye-opening events,
such as the time a fellow police officer, in another town, he happened upon
at the gay bar.

This time, Evan's mind was prepared for the `occult' acts of satisfying
one's needs, wants and pleasure, involving more than sexual acts between
the sheets. He was reluctant to tying the fellow police officer, stripped
naked, to a chair and interrogating him. In this one case, instead of a
quirt or, as he learned from the internet, other tools of the trade, one
could very well be `tortured', as he did with Mack, deprivation of sexual
pleasuring. What proved to be lucrative to the officer tied to the chair,
it was a fantastic orgasm and as he was inclined to do with Mack, made his
fantasy law officer eat his own cum. Of course, he ruined one of his own
dining room chairs, pushing the officer over, pressing his gooey pubes into
the rug, using his ass to get himself off!

Then, to top it off, he met Barry and Bryan, two employees at
Manfredi. Both lived in an apartment and for a threeway, felt it would get
too noisy. Offering up his own place, Evan found out soon enough, Bryan
finding his souvenir quirt lying on his dresser, he knew exactly what it
was for.

Finding out the two liked to play `games', it was a cinch for him to assume
the position of the `evil cop'. Of course, it was agreed, Evan would get
first crack at Bryan's ass, but when the time came, it was Barry doing the
drilling.

Overall, he didn't need to do a thing when it came to the quirt. He
couldn't understand, Bryan, Manfredi's nurse and with his pledge to give
life a second chance, used not only the quirt, but a leather belt he picked
out of Evan's closet as `toys', props in their `game'.

He didn't get too bent out of shape over it, since both, after experiencing
the play of the cards, were still friends!

It were incidents such as these that set Evan a-thinkin'. After stripping
Hawkins' tattered tank top off, jogging short, sock and sneakers, placed
him on his bed. Part of his plan was to secure not only evidence, but to
catch Hawkins at his own game. In order to do so he had to make a phone
call.

^ o ^

The afternoon wasn't all fun, but to Coach Leeds `games', one used to groom
a college, or high school man, in the art of being a `warrior'.

"Coach, you're killing us!" Xeno, Kev, Mutt, Jeffy and Ian all sided with
Jason, representing the group in voice.

After they lunched on Coach's cold cuts, Ian MacDuff had phoned Jason,
wanting to talk over stuff regarding them rooming together. Without a car,
Jeffy drove him, Mutt a passenger.

Trailing all of them, Mutt finally collapses, a few yards from the edge of
the pool.

Slipping out of the pool, Jeffy's briefs slip down, revealing his sunny
blond ass crack, though one would never be able to tell the color of his
hair, wet!

"Whatsamatter, Mutt?" Jeffy put his right foot aside Mutt's left foot,
giving a heave up.

Weighing more than Jeffy, his intentions collapsed, as did Jeffy, toppling
right over onto Mutt.

Casually walking towards the pool, Kevin, Jordan, Jeadi and Virgil had
stopped running a second ago.

In fourth place was Virgil, "Whew! Guess I'm a little out of shape!" he
breathes, labored.

"A little?" Jeadi questions. "I think maybe a lot!"

Kevin says, "Comes with old age, Virg!"

Acting adamantly, not which he thinks Kevin talks out of maliciousness,
"I'm only 32, dammit!"

"Oh really?" Jeadi toys, "I thought you were 52!"

His hands, extended out in front of him, like Dracula about to choke his
victim, Virgil threatens, "How would you like it? Neck or balls strangled?"

Shaking his head, Kevin says of the two running off towards the pool,
"They're worse than the kids!"

"I'm only a couple of years older than some of those `kids', y'know?"
Jordan says.

"And?" Kevin wonders where this is going?

"Nothing. I'm just saying," Jordan replies, walking towards the pool.

"Hey!" Kevin calls him.

Turning around, coming back, all of the six steps, Jordan asks, "What?"

"Nothing. Just `hey'," Kevin smiles.

"Y'know, I think we should try what you said before?"

"Oh, you mean about the cold cuts?"

"Depends on what cold cuts you're talking about Kevin?"

Like reading Jordan's mind, "Same ones you're thinking about!"

Closing in, like their treasure trails were about to merge, Jordan says, "I
think we shouldn't do the label thing and just go at it open-minded."

"Hmm. I love experimenting. Maybe later, though?"

Walking right past Jordan, Kevin nudged his shoulder, then swan-dived into
the pool. Jordan stood there, reflecting on the `thereafter', but was
distracted by Jeffy and Mutt. Instead of breaking them up, which is what a
good chaperone should do, Jordan made a right turn, yelled,
"Timbr-r-r-r-r!" and like a chopped down tree, fell into the pool.

%

Copyright 2013 T. Chase McPhee

`A NiFTy LiTTLe TALe', and developing segments of this story, may not be
sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the
author.