Date: Wed, 14 Mar 2007 17:28:49 -0700 (PDT)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: For Sale By Owner 01

The story below is a work of fiction, set in the
format of reality. Any resemblances to real people,
alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in
nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon
persons, in towns, cities, countries, nor governmental
areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene
involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then
you should not read this story. Additionally, if you
are under 18 years of age, in most state and
countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by
law. Check with your local laws regarding such. %
Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction.
In real life, use protection.

%

"For Sale, By Owner" 01
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

Growing up, Alex Norguet's most pleasurable past time,
as a child, was to sit and watch his mother sew.
Sometimes the articles, dresses, suits or restitching
fallen apart clothing, were done on the barter system,
Mrs. Norguet exchanging services for food. The Norguet
children, eight in all, learned to value the meaning
of a dollar. As goes the movie, "Gone With The Wind",
Alex swore, in a much nicer vocabulary, neither he nor
any member of his family would go hungry. Thus, Alex
took up learning how to sew, by hand or machine. In
his high school years, Alex became well-known for his
line of briefs, smartly colored, of sleek materials.

A senior athlete, James Breach, first to purchase the
very first pair of briefs, stated, "I dunno Norguet.
$25 for this? Kind of skimpy."

"If you don't want it, the next guy will!" Alex
shrewdly tried to make the sale sway in his direction.

"Give me that!" Greg grabbed for the briefs, "I'll
give you $28 for it."


From there on, Alex let the scene take place, the high
school volleyball team snatching it away, naming their
price. Good thing the profit was going back in his own
pocket, since it kept on rising, with each new pair of
hands. James finally recovered them, but wound up
paying $38 for them, saying, "If I don't like the way
it fits, Norguet, I'm trading it in." He tried talking
Alex down, to the original price, but the guys
wouldn't let him. As the final sale took place, Alex
gleamed at James peeling three tens, a five and three
singles from a wad of bills in his pocket.

"Mom! Mom!" Alex screamed, as he came in the door.

"What happened?"

"I sold my first pair of briefs today! $38!"

Mrs. Norguet's eyes were like saucers, her chin
dropped, as did some of the siblings whom gathered
around. Slowly, Alex peeled back the same amount of
diversified bills as James did, revealing his small
fortune.

"Here mom. This is for you."

In his eyes, his face shone all the love of
appreciation for the years of care, passing on her
craft.

"No. You keep it."

Batting back and forth, some of Alex's brothers and
sisters volunteered to take the cash off his hands,
but he was only offering it to their mother. Some
sense came to his mother's words, when she told him
the amount a tuxedo would cost for the senior prom.
Maybe his mom was concerned where the cash was coming
from, but for Alex, he had a nice variety of briefs
all ready to take into school tomorrow. At the going
rate, $38, he would have no problem raising cash for
the prom. Next day, he stuffed his backpack with six
pair of assorted colored briefs.

Walking to school, Alex met up with his friend, Greg
Charney. When he stayed back in eighth grade, Alex was
the first to befriend him. At the time, the volleyball
and swim teams were at a start-up, with the completion
of the Olympic-sized pool and ball courts.
Miraculously recovering from a bout with pneumonia,
with Alex's help, Greg dove into both sports.

"Aren't you in the least interested `why' your briefs
are selling and the going price, Alex?" Greg inquired.

"I'll be more interested in seeing the briefs I have
here, turn into cash. My mom says I can use it to pay
for senior prom."

"Cool! So, you're paying for the limo?"

"Let's wait and see if there's a market first?"

Greg nor Alex had to step further than the Lake Quinn
schoolyard limits, when their first customer came
forward, Ricky Gonzales.

"Hey Alex, ya got anymore of them briefs?"

"I just happen to have a few."

Near the track and field area, a boundary of picnic
tables fanned out in a semi-circle. Alex made use of
one to lay out his briefs.

"Awesome, Alex-man!"

Greg and Alex were all smiles, responding to Ricky's
delight.

"I could only scrape up $36. Can I owe you two?"

Greg stepped in, saying, "Yeah, but don't go telling
the other guys."

Now it looked to be like Alex had a partner in the
business, as Greg took the $36 from Ricky.
"Our first sale of the day!"

"Our?"

"You need help, if we're going to get enough to pay
for our limo."

"Our limo?"

"Sure. We're going to have enough dough here to go to
the Jersey shore!"

"Hmm... already spending the profits, are ya?"

Slowly, as time went bye, leaping from elementary
school, to middle school, Alex had taken a fancy for
Greg. At first he wasn't sure, but in the other
direction, he lacked an interest for the girls. He
hadn't the nerve to say anything to Greg.

"If Ricky spends his last dollar on a pair of briefs,
then you know guys with the money are going to want
them."

"I really don't see what the big deal is, other than
they are not tightey-whiteys?"

"Color and design."

"They are no different shape."

Right then and there, Greg holds up a pair of briefs
to himself. "Can't you see it, Alex?"

"See what?"

"Don't you go and tell me you didn't design it this
way."

"What way?"

Greg shakes his head, folding the briefs up into a
neat square.

"What?"

"The crotch."

"Crotch? What with it?"

"Well, I'm kind of embarrassed to say so, but here
goes; this!"

Letting the brief he just tidied up, go slack, Greg
stabs two fingers in the opening seams, smack dab in
the middle of the crotch.

"So?"

"You know what, Alex, you're lame. The crotch. Where
the guy's cock goes, stoopid!"

"Oh yeah. I kept making the same mistake over and
over, so left it."

"Well your royal goof is why guys want it."

All this talk about the crotch, the gathering of extra
material at the area where the cock hangs in a little
pouch was making Alex horny as hell. With care, he
made sure his book was in front of him.

"You mean... their cock... the extra room?"

"You got it. Why do you think I bet up Jimmy Breach
yesterday?"

"Why?"

Greg then realised he had worked himself into a bind.
The reason, reporting it to Alex, would reveal a dark,
deep secret regarding himself, his fancy of spying at
nude guys in the shower. He thought about another way
of reproach, but nothing was materializing quick
enough.

Seeing the agony of trying to cover it up, Alex came
forth with, "You like to look too, huh?"

Still in the thinking mode, Greg slowly came around to
Alex's way of thinking. "Look? No."

"Yes," Alex smiled. "You don't have to hide it. I'm
not."

"You mean?"

Shrugging both shoulders, Alex figured this is where
he would find out if his best friend indeed was his
best friend. "Yep. I like to look, when I can."

"At Jimmy? In the shower?"

Halfway between embarrassement and the truth, Alex
reveals, "In the shower or standing next to me at the
urinal. Like you, I `enjoy' it."

"You... you're...."

"I guess if a guy can't level with his best friend,
then whom can he. Yeah, I'm gay."

With a sustained smile on his face, Greg stood there,
with a lack of any emotional. He wasn't stunned, nor
joyed. Yet, deep down inside, he wanted to proclaim
the same thing as Alex. For him the words wouldn't
come out.

"Well, Greg?"

"I... I don't know. I never said it to anyone."

Shrugging one shoulder, Alex says, "I haven't told
anyone myself, excepting you."

"Then I suppose it's okay for me..." Greg gulped, "to
say...."

"Say it."

"I... I'm.. I'm gay?"

"You said it."

"I'm gay. Hey, it's not so tough to say."

"But, do you feel it?"

"Feel it?"

"Yeah. I might as well be fully on the level with you
Greg. I like you."

"Like me?"

"Well, lets just say it was tearing me in two thinking
of how I like you and also thinking about you being
straight."

"Wow, Alex. I have to really think about this."

"In the meantime. Now that you are out to me..."

"You aren't going to tell anyone, are you?"

"Not unless you want to come out to everyone, Greg."

"Not yet. Maybe someday. Maybe not to the senior
class."

"Yeah and we have to make it look good for prom."

"I didn't think of that. I mean, I thought you and I
were taking a couple of girls to the prom. Wow! This
really shakes everything up."

"Sure does," Alex sighed.

"We better get to class."

"Hey Greg. Here. Catch!"

Tossing the pair of briefs, the ones Greg pointed out
the feature by which they sold, caught it against his
chest. "What's this?"

"A special gift from me to you."

Over the last half of the school year, since the
market for handmade briefs was hot, Alex designed a
whole line, selling them at ridiculous prices. A pair
of boxer-briefs, having more material to make it, Greg
put the price of $50 on it. They sold like hot cakes
and not only boys were buying them! Next, Alex came up
with something very, very skimpy. Online he came
across a woman's brief made up of virtually a string
with a little pouch. Duplicating the effort, Alex sat
at the sewing machine, making the pouch bigger.

"Not big enough," Greg sighed.

"How big?"

"Do the same as you measured for the boxer-briefs,
Alex."

"Myself?"

"Yeah. You're pretty well endowed `there'."

"Am I now? Compared to who?"

"Me?"

Since Alex took up sewing, his mom let him have a
corner of the basement for his `shop'. Deserted,
except for several piles of boxes, Alex made it
comfortable for himself, an old twin size mattress
lying on a rug. When not in use, it lay on it's side
against some of the boxes. Some nights he would let it
keel over and he'd sleep all night long down in the
basement.

"I don't think you have anything to be ashamed about,
Greg," Alex told him, looking downwards.

"So, I'm one of the guys you looked over, in the
shower, aren't I?"

"The truth is I've been lusting over you long before
our phys. ed. days, Greg."

"Really? Like back how far?"

"Oooh, I'd say since eighth grade."

"A long time for a person to keep a secret, Alex. I
should know, too."

"You?.... and me?"

Alex just stood there and smiled. Neither of the two
have had many notions of what to make about all this.

"What do we do?"

Alex asked, "What do two people do who like each
other?"

Brilliantly, Greg lays the framework, "A girl and a
guy would at least.... hug?"

Slowly, Alex put down the pair of briefs he worked on.
Greg took it as Alex was getting ready to do
something. He let his bookbag slide off his shoulder,
onto a box. It startled him when it fell right in.

"Leave it," Alex told him, "it's not bothering
anything."

When Greg turned from attending to the backpack, Alex
stood only two feet in front of him.

"Fast mover," Greg joked, the only means by which he
felt communicating.

However, Alex wasn't in a joking mood. More seriously,
he reached up and placed his flat palms on the sides
of Greg's arms.

"Okay?"

"So far," Greg gave him the go ahead, adding, "You
just sent chills up and down my spine."

Inching forwards, Alex soon had to make mention to the
fact his pants were tenting.

"Do this mean you really like me?"

"What do you think your cock is telling you, Greg?"

Greg giggled first, followed by a short bout of
laughter from Alex, returning to the serious of the
matter. Traveling up Greg's arms, Alex's palms reached
the back of Greg's shirt. The counter action, rubbing
his back, made him draw himself closer.

"Whooooa!" Greg sighed out loud.

"What?"

"Nothing."

They now stood a few feet apart.

"Maybe you're not ready yet, Greg?"

"Something like that."

"But you want to, don't you?"

"Yeah. Of course. I mean I'm not sure."

Alex brushed the whole scene off with a smile.

"That's okay. There could be plenty of other times."

"Look, I'm sorry, Alex."

"Don't be. Rome wasn't built in a day."

"And Barbie didn't kiss Ken on the first date!"

"Whaaat?" Alex laughed.

"Nothing."

"Oh I get it. I've got to take you out on a date
first?"

"No. That's not the way it is."

"Playing hard to get, eh Gregory?"

"No. That's not the way it is at all... Alexander!"

"Well, I've gotta get busy with making up these
briefs."

"I can sew the labels on."

"Never you mind."

"Oh, so you are still busting my chops over sewing
them on the front instead of the back, are you?"

"No. I told you already Greg. I don't hold grudges."

Suddenly, Greg felt a flush of melancholy rush over
his being. He could see the tender person Alex could
be. With suddeness he `wanted' Alex.

"Hey," he tapped Alex on the shoulder, as he sat at
the sewing machine.

"What?" Alex looked up, over his shoulder.

Without further ado, Greg bent in half, his lips
heading on target, for Alex's. As their lips met,
Alex's hand let loose of the scissors and reached
upwards, coiling around Greg's neck. As he did this,
he turned his body on the rounded stool. All Alex had
to do is get up, to engage Greg in a full body hug.

%

Copyright 2007 T. Chase McPhee
This story may not be sold, nor made part of any
collection, without prior consent from the author.