Date: Sat, 14 Mar 2009 16:07:13 -0700 (PDT)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: FoR SaLE By OwNEr  68

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  68
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

"Why the sad face, Alex?"

"I just got off the phone with Bill Miller."

"And?"

"Seems the coffee bean is finished. The owners aren't salvaging what's
left. Seems like the Coffee Bean II is becoming the Coffee Bean I." But
then Alex sobers up, "But Bill also says they plan on opening a Coffee Bean
in New Jersey if I'm interested. What do you think?"

"Alex. Forget about the Coffee Bean," Kyle tried consoling him.

"But I was on the verge of becoming manager. They're offering me a manager
position of the new Coffee Bean. Bill Miller says they might open others. I
could work my way up to district manager!"

"Alex," Kyle says seriously, "why are you even wasting your time thinking
about it?"

"Wasting my time?" Alex says adamantly, an ounce of anger integrated, "This
is `my' future we're talking about!"

"Your future?" Kyle counteracts his interests, "Your future is in fashion
or did you forget about that?"

"I dunno. Maybe I would do better..."

Kyle takes the upper hand, "You'll do better designing briefs," and
then... "Alex you have such good ideas and you're so talented. You know
what you're problem is?"

"Me? I've got a problem?"

"Yeah. You're settling for something you're successful at now, but what
happens ten years from now when you had wished you followed through on your
dream? Have you even forgotten at one time you had a dream?"

"I know, but things change."

And then, quite emotional, Kyle says, pounding his finger into Alex's
chest, "And things better change back, Alex. This is `not' the guy who I
met. The `Alex' I fell in love with had more on his mind than coffee and
donuts. Have you forgotten about why your high school classmates would part
with $50 for a skimpy pair of briefs?"

"Um, I guess..."

"Because they `said something'. They were an innovative idea. Who would
have thought a guy's crotch would feel more comfortable having it's own
little pouch for their cock and balls?"

"Um, it only was for their cock."

"Well think about it Alex. It's not the `only' big part of the human
anatomy!"

"I don't know," Alex says, dropping his ass into the sofa.

"Well I do. Up until now you've come up with a lot of the answers, but now
I'm putting my foot down. You're going to the Fashion Institute this fall
and you're going to study and eventually turn into the world's best fashion
designer!"

"But I need a job to..."

"And that's another thing," Kyle went on, all strung up and high-wired,
"you're going to accept the generosity of me paying for your tuition and
anything else you might need and you better get it through your head it's
not just `my' money, it's `ours', that is if you still love me and want to
stick around!"

The last part is what grabbed Alex's attention the most, "Of course I want
to stick around. How could you even suggest..."

"I'm sorry," Kyle says, dropping his ass down next to Alex. "I knew I
shouldn't have gone there. I know you love me, but there's one thing you're
frustrating the hell out of me with."

"What's that?"

"Like I said Alex. What's mine is yours and..."

"What happens if I find another boyfriend?"

"Alex, are you planning on finding another boyfriend?"

"No," Alex says innocently, but with conviction.

"Then don't even think about it. As far as I'm concerned, you're it." Then
calming a bit, "I'm stuck with you and you're stuck with me."

"Well I wouldn't put it `that' way!"

"Can we make a compromise here?"

"Sure," Alex replied, tired of all this baloney.

"Can you promise me you won't try to find a job, unless it has to do with
the fashion industry and that it won't take away from your studies, until
you graduate?"

"I suppose that's liberal enough thinking."

"And one more promise?"

"What?"

"If you do find another boyfriend, you'll let me down easy?"

"No."

"No?"

"No, because I think it's more about trust. You have to trust that I'm not
going to find another boyfriend. Anyway, how did we get started on such a
stupid subject?"

With their differences winding down, the two started to meld back into
their normal selves.

"So, you say there should be a second pocket in my briefs?"

"With your endowment, Alex, I think there should be a parking garage!"

%

"So. How long have you been living in this `box', Geoff?" Swifty asks,
picking through an Advocate magazine.

"Two and half, maybe three years. Kind of homey don't you think?"

"Depends on `who' you have to share it with."

Delving out the pan of eggs onto two plates of buttered toast, Geoff
confesses, "Frankly it's been a rather lonely existence."

"A good looking bear like you? I'd think the cubs would be coming out of
the woods and chasing you...."

"Nah. I'm not like a lot of gay men. I'm not into the sex-factory scene."

"And what is it you're looking for Geoff?"

With a quick analysis of where this was leading, Geoff replies, "Same thing
you are!"

"Looks good," Swifty says when Geoff places a plate of breakfast in front
of him.

"All it takes is following a recipe in a cookbook and a little TLC!"

Before Geoff gets away, Swifty latches a hand onto his Bear Boxers, "How
about adding some more TLC?"

Taking the hint, Geoff lowers his head and zeroes in on Swifty's head as he
looks up. While one hand is caressing the back of his head, the other is
brushing over Swifty's chest. He stops suddenly to inform, "Next time you
come to the breakfast table, Swif, shower all this `grime' off?"

"Oh. I didn't know there was going to be a next time. Is there?"

"If you didn't get the meaning, it was more than an invitation."

>From there, their breakfast conversation was drawn from relationships,
Geoff telling of how he thought it meaningless when his model-friend
mentioned going to `Bear's Night' Dependable Dating at the Gay Pride
Center.

"But Pablo? He's no bear! He's like as smooth as a cucumber!"

"Yeah, but have you seen his `cucumber'!"

Swifty joked back, "No. `Haven't seen it outside the tunnel, but one could
tell..."

Then this led to, "I suppose your friend, what's-'is-name, Noah?"

"Neil."

"That's it. Neil, I suppose he's quite familiar with what Pablo's packin'."

It left Swifty silent for a moment of reflection.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have mentioned it maybe," Geoff said in apology.

"Nah." Then looking to Geoff, a little smile on his face, the twenty-five
year old states, "Neil was `much' too smooth for me," and swiping his
fingertips down his own middle, "all Neil had was this thin little fuzzy
trail."

"Oh so," Geoff replies, wiping his mouth with his napkin and pushing his
empty plate away from him, "you like bears?"

"Yeah, especially ones with egg all over their chest!"

"Ohhhh I'm such a slob!" Geoff says of himself, looking down his forest of
dark brown chest fur.

"No," Swifty says when Geoff goes to pick it out. "Allow me."

Instead of Geoff pushing himself out from the table, unaware of Swifty's
playfulness, its' Swifty who pushed the table away as he mounted Geoff's
lap, his thighs outside Geoff's, sitting down, his crotch hitting against
Geoff's crotch. Right away he set about to tongue over the bits of egg
caught in the nooks and crannies of Geoff's hair. Same time, Geoff's hands
went to work pawing at Swifty's chest, running his hands over the hair, not
as thick as his, finding two pec-spots.

"Ohhhhhhh," Swifty yodeled when Geoff grabbed hold of both nips and gave
them a little mash. "Getting even are we?"

"No. If I wanted to get even, I'd have to do this!"

"Owwww...owww....owww...leggo!"

It was half serious and halfway up to the decibels of high-pitched
laughter, Swifty saying over and over, "Stop! No, don't stop! No, stop!"
etcetera, as Geoff got a giggle out of Swifty's humor.

Geoff stopped when he felt something stabbing his crotch. "You're getting
off on this, aren't you?"

"And you wouldn't?" Swifty said, immediately attacking Geoff's nips.

Then it became a standoff, each yelping when the squeezing became too
intense, sighing with pleasure when nips were lightly mashed, reverting to
the painful expression when the pressure was applied.

"I give up," Geoff finally admits, disengaging his fingers and leaning back
in his chair.

Swifty sat there, and instead of his hands being on Geoff's hairy pecs,
they sank down into his cock-pocket.

"Not too much or I'll have to think about drenching you again!"

"What? And make me stink even more?"

"Unless?" Then as a ploy to get Swifty from the kitchen to the bedroom,
"How about that shower?"

Before their playfulness had led to Geoff lying there, Swifty pulling out
just in time to seed his bod, now it was Swifty with his legs in the
air. "The beauty of versatility!" Geoff makes comment as he takes his hefty
shaft and lines it up with Swifty's hole.

%

"Oh by the way, Swifty left me a little present yesterday."

"What are those for?" Alex asks about the two shiny, silver keys dangling
from Kyle's hand.

"Swifty said anytime I wanted to check out the Chelsea residence, help
myself?"

Alex grabbed hold of Kyle's hint, "With only roughly a week to find a
place, maybe we should go have a look."

It took the two forever to get ready, a kissing break at the top of the
stairs, bods passing in and out of the shower like two ships passing in the
night, the closeness causing the two to pass in slow motion, then as Alex
shaved, Kyle smooshes his wet bod up against Alex's back.

"Almost made me cut myself!"

Reaching down Alex's front, Kyle says, "Almost made you hard too!"

Staring in the mirror, it was almost like looking at himself, only he cast
his eyes over his shoulder. "Yeah, but I think I need more than an hour to
replenish the reserves."

"Take all the time you need, just as long as you're all primed for
tonight?" Kyle slapped Alex's barebutt before exiting.

Alex followed Kyle's butt as he left the jon. While dressing, he asks Kyle,
"Have you seen my brown A&F shirt?"

"Remember Scotty was doing up some laundry of his yesterday and asked if
anyone else needed anything done?"

"Gotcha!" Alex said, taking the spiral stairs as if he stood in one place
and did pirouettes.

Kyle smiled to himself. Here Alex had a drawer full of tee shirts and he
`had' to have his brown one.

After a `ding', Kyle hears Alex yell, "I'll get it!" When he opens the door
a cop is standing there. "Uh-oh what'd I do?"

The `cop' caught the last little glimpse of Alex pulling his tee shirt down
over his stomach.

"Kind of tight," Alex says. "It was in the dryer," he explained, covering
the uniform's reason for checking out his abs-trail.

"Happens to me occasionally."

Alex wondered what `his' abs looked like!

"What's up?" Kyle asks, appearing before them.

"Hi. Are you Kyle?"

"Uh. Yeah," Kyle replies.

"I was told to give you these and add, `no charge'? Uncle Swif said you
would know what it meant."

"Uncle Swif?" Alex questions. "Like in `Swifty Sinkler'?"

The `uniform' replies, "Yeah. Uncle Steven, but I've kind of gone the way
the consensous has, in name-calling." He laughed.

Kyle and Alex giggled along. Apparently the same condition afflicted the
nephew, as well as the uncle, laughter which spread like an epidemic.

"I have to be going."

Alex inquires, "So you work with Raul?"

"Uncle Swif's friend downtown?"

"He's not NYPD, Alex."

"Oh! Oh yeah," Alex then notices the patch on the side of the uniform, his
hand pulling on the sleeve to see it better. He then realizes he doesn't
even know the guy and maybe shouldn't have `touched' him. "Sorry `bout
that."

"On the contrary. You can touch me all you want!"

They all laughed their asses off, Alex thinking Swifty's nephew a chip off
the old block.

After spotting the word `security' on the shoulder, Alex chats him up, "So,
where are you security at, um..." he fished for a name.

"Chelsea Arms, Uncle swif's apartment building over in Chelsea."

It then dawns on Kyle they haven't been introduced. The capital `E' before
the `Sinkler' gave him a lead in, "What does the `E' stand for?" he touches
the little brass plate.

"Oh gosh, I forgot about myself... Ellis and I know you're Kyle, but..."

"He's Alex," Kyle throws his thumb to the left.

"So you two like... um...."

"Yeah," Alex replies, "we are!"

"Cool." Then seeing he wasn't going to make any time with either, Ellis
says, "I better head back."

"Nice to meet you Ellis," Alex said as Ellis left.

"Same here, Alex. See ya Kyle."

After the door was closed, Kyle says to Alex, "If eyes could touch, Ellis'
would be all over you!"

"You think?"

"Maybe I never mentioned it, but when I first met you I had the same
thoughts."

"Of?"

"You may be French, but you're the image of a Greek god!"

"Oh really?" Alex says, butting his front up to Kyle's. "You keep talking
like that and you'll have my balls filled before noontime!"

"Mmmmmm," Kyle replies.

But then thoughts strayed when Kyle spied the keys to the penthouse
apartment on the dresser.

"Yeah," Alex said, "I guess we better get this over with."

Kyle suggests, "You could always dump two loads later?"

"Now there's a thought!" Alex replied, pulling on his jeans.

So, on another joyous ride through the city Alex held on as Kyle wove
through traffic.

"Is this the right address?" Kyle asked, looking up at the apartment
building which seemed to zoom up to the clouds.

"That's what it says here," Alex replied, looking at the paper in his
hand. "Chelsea Arms."

"Now why does that sound familiar?" Kyle looks to Alex.

"I wonder," Alex replies.

And it was no surprise when they walked in the front door, the two
confronting Ellis on the other side of the locked security door. Before
Kyle could get the key up to the hole, Ellis was welcoming them, "Long time
no see!"

Alex and Kyle laughed along with him.

"You could have waited to give us the papers, maybe?" Alex asked.

"No problem. I was passing by your place. Besides Uncle Swif thought maybe
you would like time to look the papers over."

"Oh was I supposed to sign something?" Kyle asks, figiting with the white
envelope Ellis had dropped off.

"I'm not sure," Ellis replied.

Both Alex and Kyle grinned when Kyle felt Ellis' hand on his right
shoulder, Alex feeling a hand on his left, Ellis' head between the two,
eavesdropping on the papers from the envelope.

"What is this?" Kyle asks, looking at the back, then the front again.

"Looks like a bill of sale," Alex clues him in.

"Certificate of ownership," Ellis points out the print midway in the
document.

"Hmm," Kyle mulled over the papers as Ellis hung like a leech from Alex's
shoulder.

Alex smiled, his attention on the hand perched on his upper right side as
Ellis buried his nose in Kyle's paper.

"There doesn't seem to be any mention of money. What do you think?" Kyle
asks.

Ellis tells him, "I wouldn't put it past Uncle Swif."

"Like what?" Alex asks, missing something.

"He probably figured he didn't pay a dime for it, so he's not charging
you."

"Wait. Can you back up a minute here, Ellis?"

Alex was curious also.

Ellis left them in the dark, "Maybe he didn't want you to know."

Coercing the information, Alex played Ellis' game and put his hand over
Ellis' shoulder. "Didn't want us to know what, Ellis?"

Maybe Alex wasn't feeling much electricity, but the twenty-two year old
security guard was feeling plenty. "Poker game. About a month ago. Uncle
Swif won it fair and square."

"Won it?" Kyle gulped. "Must've been high stakes." Both knew the penthouse
apartment to be up there, several zeroes added to the end of the price tag.

"Oh you better believe it. Yeah," he laughed, "some poor sucker lost
$27,000,000 in real estate to Uncle Swif!"

Kyle was sort of shocked, but Alex went off the deep end, "You mean like
twenty-seven, zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero?" he counted on his fingers.

"Yeah. Uncle Swif said the guy was livid. The guy thought he was going to
win and then Uncle Swif laid down his cards and the rest was history."

Ellis was laughing his ass off at the guy's misery, praising his uncle,
putting him up there with all the other card sharks.

"It wasn't Donald Trump was it?" Alex inquires.

"Nah. That chef guy who's on Tv... um, what's-is-name..." Ellis tried
naming him.

"Not Tyler Florence?" Alex asks.

Kyle nudged him, knowing Alex had the hots for the Tv chef.

"No. Some Danish dude."

"Not van Oijen?" Kyle takes a wild guess.

"That's him!" Ellis exclaims, pointing his finger like a gun.

"Wow!" Kyle replied. Then his thoughts turned grimmer, "I wonder if..." but
he didn't leave his opinion, wondering if the night van Oijen lost his lux
apartment in the poker game, if he took his rage out on Neil.

"Wonder what?" Ellis asks.

"It's not important." Then to quickly divert attention, "So, when can we
see it?"

All the way up the elevator chute, Ellis talked about how confident the
`other guy' was and how his `Uncle Swif' laughed off the other guy being so
pissed, when he was so confident he was going to win.

However, neither Alex nor Kyle listened to a single word after the elevator
opened, not to a hallway, but a direct route inside the lux apartment.

"Is... is this like `it'?" Alex asks, walking out slowly and standing in
awe.

"Awesome!" Kyle tells of his astonishment, seeing the cutaway second
floor. "Another loft!"

"More than one," Ellis tells them as he takes the lead to be their guide.

Walking under an archway, the second room also sports a stairway and the
continuation of the cut out second floor. Taking the stairs, he leads them
upwards, explaining, "The master bedroom is up here and off to your left,"
he points, "is the hot tub. This is accessible from the bedroom or a
stairway on the other side, so guests don't have to pass through your
private room to get to the hot tub or pool."

"Pool? On top of a building?"

"You don't think those six zeroes are for nothing, do you?"

The two were overwhelmed to say the least. In addition to the rather
expansive bedroom, private bath and the accessibility to the hot tub and
pool area, their `floor' sported a modest kitchenette and a jon with a
private jacuzzi. Even when Ellis toured the lesser sleeping quarters the
two didn't see much difference in room size from their own quarters, the
second floor loft, of which Kyle and Alex had already claimed as theirs.

"I just noticed something," Alex brought attention to the
furnishings. "When is your uncle moving out?"

"Moving out? He doesn't live here," Ellis informed them.

"But the beds? The livingroom grouping?" Kyle questioned.

"He didn't say anything about it. Hmm..." Ellis thought on it, "let me give
uncle a call."

"There's got to be a catch."

"To what Alex?"

"Nobody, even if they're filthy rich `gives' a twenty-seven million dollar
pad away without `something' up their sleeve."

"Ummm, I was kind of thinking the same thing," Kyle agreed.

"i mean look at this place; whitewashed walls, stucco-ed to perfection,
fireplace to boot, completely furnished? No. Swifty's got to have an angle
to us staying here."

Kyle comes out with, "Maybe he'll be wanting us to host a twinkie party?"

"Kyle, I'm being serious?"

"Okay Alex. Sorry. I guess I let my imagination runaway sometimes."

After a long pause, Alex asks, "I wonder how many twinks can fit in this
room?"

After brief laughter, Kyle notes, "Maybe we can break a Guiness world
record!"

%

"Hmm, so what do they film here? Soap operas?" Vince asks Desmond, upon
entering the backstage theater door.

"Oh much more," Desmond says as his eyes shift about, like searching for
signs of life.

"Oh now isn't this just dandy!"

On a table, Vince picks up a wad of photographs. "Mmm, somebody has good
tastes!" First he stares at one picture, a teen or college age stud, lying
on a bed, a blond guy between his legs, sucking him off. "Hmm, wouldn't
mind him sucking me off!" He laughed but didn't realize some seedy
characters drifting in.

It's then, behind his back he hears Desmond's voice, "Here's the guy I was
telling you about."

Turning around Vince faces not only Desmond, but three others. One of them
Desmond carries on conversation, "So how do you like him? Will he work for
you?"

Setting the pictures down, Vince asks, "Desmond, what is this about?"
Suddenly there's a pang in the pit of Vince's stomach, him realizing other
than Desmond and the bearded guy he's in the prescense of two
`thug-looking' guys on his right and left flank.

Instead of Desmond responding, the bearded one walks up to Vince and tells
him, "How would you like to be in the movies?"

"Movies?" Vince responded over the bearded guys, shoulder, his attention
keyed in on the man he called his `friend', "What's he talking about
Desmond?"

Instead of a rational answer, Desmond cooly cautions, "It'll be better for
you if you just cooperate Vince."

"Cooperate?" Vince asks, still in a stunned mode.

Then, addressing Desmond, but not looking at him, the bearded guy says,
"Your check is in the mail Desmond. Now scram!"

"Hey, what is this?" Vince finally realises the implications, Desmond
suddenly turning cold on him.

It didn't really tick him off as much as the bearded dude feeling up
Vince's chest, reporting, "Mmm, nice pecs," he feels through Vince's shirt.

In response, Vince slaps the `beards' arm away. He didn't like at all what
was going down, but especially the two tee-shirted bulky guys waiting in
the wings only a few feet away from him and the chunky bearded dude in
front of him freely taking advantage of him.

He especially got worried when the `beard' said to his henchmen, "Boys, why
don't you show Vince here `why' he `should be' cooperating?"

Looking about, Vince saw a lighted exit sign to the side, the side which
wasn't blocked by any obstruction, mainly people. He ran. He took a leap
for the bar across the door. It didn't budge. "Oh shit!" He yelled out.

`Oh shit' was right, as one of the bulky dudes grabs Vince's arms, applies
a full nelson to Vince's bod. As if opening a door, he coaxes Vince around,
his step as pliable as hinges. Waiting for him is the other guy, a tatooed
dude with two hefty fists ready to deal out Vince's lesson.

%

Copyright 2009 T. Chase McPhee

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



The more you stretch, the more you can fit in... 'spread' happiness!
TCMcP.....