Date: Tue, 22 May 2012 17:20:44 -0700 (PDT)
From: Tchase Mcphee <survivalgame@rocketmail.com>
Subject: SuMMeR SoLSTiCe 01 (*NEW* story)

The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any
resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely
coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons,
of continents or islands, in countries, counties, cities, towns, villages,
neighborhoods, streets, cul-de-sacs, nor governmental or non-governmental
areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male
relationships offends you, then why are you here? Seriously, if guy-to-guy
sex stuff makes you barf or is going to screw up your mind, you should not
read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most
states and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check
with your local laws regarding such.

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

%

Some of the characters in `SuMMeR SoLSTiCe' have appeared in my stories,
`FoR SaLe By oWNeR' and `THe FoiLs of FLeTcH VaN DaM'. It is not imperative
you read these stories, unless you wish to get the full picture of some of
the characters portrayed. For your convenience, here are the lynx to those
stories:

http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/for-sale-by-owner/
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/the-foils-of-fletch-van-dam/

%

SuMMeR SoLSTiCe 01
WriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

"Dad?"

"Huh?" Diego replies, alternating between his plate of food and a sketch
pad, shaping up a drawing of an idea he had for an account.

"Do you think it's always going to be like this?"

It stifled Diego's brain for a second, taking him away from the `brief'
sketch, "Like what Desi?" he looks up at his son.

He was a smart eleven year old, Desi formulating his answer before spitting
it out, "Not having any kids my own age to play with?"

Diego knew he had been had. Had seen it coming, knowing the Nouguet boy
next door, Justin, five years younger than Desi, would not be a proper
playmate and on the immediate shoreline there were either surfers or other
toddlers. Sitting back in his chair, pressing bare skin against the pvc
plastic, he says, "Y'know, I happen to be talking to Michael this afternoon
and....."

Right away Desi's eyes lit up. He liked... no, adored... no,
idolized... worshipped Michael Coelho, a frequent visitor to their next
door neighbors, "Is Michael coming to visit Alex? Is he going to take us to
Rockbottom again?"

Knowing this would stir Desi up, having the punch line all in place,
"Visit, yes, but more, he asked me if I knew of any young man who might be
interested in performing some light duties at the marina, in exchange for a
small wage?"

His hand was up in a flash, as if he knew the answer to a question in
school, wanting to beat out the competition, "Oh! Oh! Can I?" he badgered
with excitement.

Already knowing `who' that kid would be, Diego replies, "It `could' be you,
but that's not my decision. Michael would have to give the final..."

"Can you call him?" Desi cuts his dad off.

Only Diego would know, Michael already predicting the outcome of Desi's
decision, saying, "Let me get his number," he picks up his cell and
searches for it, pressing a button, handing it to Desi. "Here you go and
don't forget to ask him what you have to do!"

There was no `hello', no `how you doing, Michael', only, "I'm calling to
take the job, Michael. What do I gotta do?"

Diego knew when Michael got to the part about feeding fish parts, Desi
wrinkling up his nose and reeling out his favorite line, "If I gotta."

Cutting off the phone, Diego asks, "Well?"

"He said okay."

"Then why so glum? I thought you wanted it?"

Desi replies in a repulsive manner, "I have to pick up fish guts!"

Giggling, Diego replies, "Don't feel so bad. Maybe Michael has a pair of
rubber gloves you can wear. Now," he checks the time, "Better get washed up
for bed?"

They had sat down on the back porch, overlooking the ocean, at around seven
tonight, later than usual to have some chow. Between Diego having to
explain why he was sketching a pair of men's briefs and some other
conversation falling into the cracks, time sliced through two hours in no
time.

"So, are you happy or not?" Diego asks, the two carrying dishes to the
kitchen.

"I am, but... I hope I don't barf when I see the fish guts!"

"Don't think about it until you get there. Maybe Michael won't have you
doing any of that stuff tomorrow."

"I dunno. He said something about feeding the dolpins."

Diego jokes, "It probably won't look anything worse than my cooking?!"

"Funny, dad." Lightening up, Desi returns, "Your cooking is bearable!"

"Thanks!" Diego exclaims. "I'll take all the compliments I can get!"

For the umpteenth time, since they moved to the Jersey shore a year and a
half ago, Desi asks, "How about I run out to the ocean, jump in, come back
and dry off?"

Having a few lines handy, Diego says of his idea, "What, and pollute the
ocean with your day-old grime?"

"I guess that means `no'?"

"You got it kiddo!"

Hiking the stairs, Desi knew it meant he would have to take a bath. Not
that he minded it, having done the same thing almost since he became too
old to have his dad help him. He can't even remember when it was his mom
helped. That was too, too long ago, way back when he was like, three? A
couple of times he wondered how life would have gone if she hadn't walked
out on his father and him? He tried remembering `three', but whenever he
had thoughts about circumstances, Desi always smiled, thinking of how well
a mom and dad both his father has been to him.

Right now, for instance, stopping up the tub drain and turning on the
single knob in the middle, he giggles, thinking what would his mother ever
have thought, of `his dad', kissing `another man!'

"What's so funny?" Diego pokes himself in the doorway.

"Nothin'," Desi refrains from divulging his thoughts.

"Hmm... are you going to bathe in your clothes?"

Teasing, because Desi understood how some of this gay stuff went, "Why? You
want to watch?"

Grabbing the door knob, Diego pulls it closed, saying, "Don't forget to
wash behind your ears!"

He hears from the jon-side of the door, "And under my kiddie-balls?"

Diego rolls his eyes, does stick his head back in to warn, "Don't you go
saying stuff like that when we're out, young man!"

"I know. I know, dad. I'm just kidding, okay?"

Leaving again, Diego replies, "You're `just kidding' and I'm `just warning
you'!"

"I know, I know."

"Kids!" Diego says, closing the door behind him.

Back downstairs, as the dishwasher whirls water about, he grabs himself a
glass of white wine and sits at the dining room table, tinkering with his
ad campaign. Anything else, it would not be so suggestive. A pair of men's
briefs, especially a `Nouguet' brand, with the small cock-pocket in the
front, it got Diego's non-drawing hand busy. "Dammit!" he complains,
driving himself up into a hardon. Especially, hearing sloshy feet on the
upstairs tile, gave him concern for alarm. "Down boy!" he sat back and
looked at the tent in his board shorts. A surefire trick, he went to the
freezer, got a couple of ice cubes, hauled his thick stick out and tried
coaxing it into something smaller. It worked and he stuffed everything back
in. Next predicament, "Dammit!" his wet cock made his boardshorts a little
wet, like he had slightly peed them up!

"I took my bath. Can I have ice cream now?" Desi looked straight at his
dad, standing there, just about below where the tie strings of his
boardshorts come together.

Fibbing, Diego says, "Spilled my glass of wine."

Walking past his dad, on the way to the freezer, Desi replies,
"Sure. Whatever you say dad!"

Unfortunately, Diego forgot. He already used that excuse. However, rather
than create a scene, which would bounce right back into his own court, he
let it go as is. Following Desi into the kitchen he asks, "Need help
reaching?"

A little short, but having grown a couple of inches this past year, Desi
replies, "Nope! Got it!"

"You sure do!"

"Here! Oops!"

Diego smirked, saying of Desi accidentally, on purpose, stabbing him in the
crotch with the popsicle.

"You better stop that. I might take kidding like that, but some other man
would not!"

"I know. I'm only joking with you dad," Desi replies, walking out to the
porch. "Besides Dad, I know it wasn't your wine that spilled!"

He wasn't surprised, "I know you know it wasn't the wine."

"So, how come you couldn't just tell me it was your penis being hard?"

"Okay. So my penis was hard. Happy?"

Not knowing much other than a guy's penis getting hard when he has to pee,
he was dying to ask, based on something he had seen before, "When Albert
was here..."

"What about him?" Diego stopped in the middle of his popsicle, feeling it
inappropriate to suck on it while discussing a man he had over `for the
evening.'

"Maybe I heard something," Desi says.

Diego accuses, "You were eavesdropping?"

"No. I was in my room. Until I heard all these," Desi makes grunts and
moaning sounds, "mm-m, ah-h-h, ooh-h, oh-h, "and then... I just wanted to
make sure you were all right?"

When they moved to the shore community and settled down in the beachfront
home, Diego had sworn off dating and sex, putting Desi first in his
life. He was doing well with the sex part, until Stanley Mack had his
twenty-four year old son, Albert, drop by and sign some papers. Not that
Diego wasn't beholden for his son's concern, "And?"

This was only two nights ago, and fresh in Desi's mind, "I heard Albert
telling you, your `cock'," said so Desi made it a fact he knew what it was,
"was `so-o' hard!" He laughs, because he was a little nervous talking about
it, even with his dad.

Knowing his son `knew' the meaning here, Diego toys, "My, aren't we getting
up on our gay vocabulary?"

"How can I not, dad? I mean, if you're going to be gay... you are `gay',
aren't you?" Desi puts it to him.

"I think you know the answer to that," Diego folds his arms over his chest.

Desi just stands there, smiling.

"What?" Diego fans his hands out.

"It's only this year I thought about it, about you really being gay, dad."

Diego smirks, saying, "I hope it doesn't change your opinion of me?"

"Nope," Desi holds the dripping popsicle. "You're still my dad!"

Not taking the meltdown into consideration, Diego hugs his son, but quickly
parts, saying, "Ew-w-w-we!"

"You better take a bath, dad!"

"I better!" Diego looks down upon himself, scooping up a thin line of
orange, just about uniform with the stripe down his bod, and licking his
finger off.

Right after the two finished up their orange sherbet, actually after Desi
quieted down from talking up Michael here and there, speculating on his big
job specifics at Rockbottom, it was time for bed. After his bath, like
usual when the single digits of the June calendar herded in the early
summer temps, Desi only put on a pair of kiddie boxer shorts. Tonight's
happened to be spiderman. Unlike Spidey, Desi was in no mood to fly up the
stairs, his dad following him up, tucking him in and then Diego listening
at the top of the stairs a moment, to make sure sonny-boy was settled in.

Without thinking, Diego could feel the indoor temperature, rubbing a hand
up, from midchest, sticky finger from a little orange residue, then gliding
down a couple of inches, descending his smooth bod, till fingers glided
over his navel, ending at the hardly noticeable happy trail. Of tonight's
bod-skiing, he comments out loud, "Not too bad," which meant he would not
have to walk around the beach home, closing windows and throwing the switch
for the central air conditioning.

About to pour himself a glass of wine, which he proceeds to do, he
immediately had a flashback, thinking humorously to himself, "Spilled my
wine!" Giggling, he thinks of how he tried to pull a fast one on Desi, only
to be outfoxed. Soon though, he lost the smile, again thinking out loud to
himself, "That has got to change, mind you," like, as if he were talking to
Desi, right there in front of him, having a father to son talk about the
proper things to say and not to say. Though, as Diego sits down at the
table, eyes meeting dead center with the pair of briefs he was working on,
he had to admit, in public, Desi behaved himself. Which, came to a naughty
conclusion about himself, thinking maybe this is where Desi has picked up
on some of these colloquialisms of gay speech. "I gotta watch myself!"

With a fake slap to his own cheek, which then made Diego do a `glasses
check', making sure the brown frames sat properly on his face, a hand to
each side of his head, he leaned forward, zeroing in on the drawing, and
thinking `gay', "Mm-m-m-m-m!" he licked his lips as his tongue came within
distance almost touching the `cock-pocket'!

To imagine it `real', Diego tells himself, "Strong wine," he picks up the
glass, smells it, then takes another sip. Setting the glass down, "Now!
What's next?" he rubs both hands together.

Picking up a pencil, about to ad a red line to a detail of the `BriefLine'
name, Alex Nouguet's line of mens underwear, there comes a knock at the
front door.

Before he gets up, Diego hears, "Anyone home?"

Recognizing the voice, he guides, "I'm in the dining room, Michael!"

Because he was analyzing Desi, Diego picked up on the Jekyl-Hyde
personality of Michael. In public he could be the perfect gentleman, but in
the presence of one on one, Michael could turn into the perfect slut,
"Mm-m-m-m, I see you were waiting for me," he walks right over to Diego,
grabs him up in an arm-fold and as soon as he tightly embraces, Michael
runs both hands down Diego's back, tucking them into the rim of the
boardshorts.

If Desi was around, surely none of this would have come about, but being
his son wasn't, so Diego didn't hesitate to take in the welcomed affection.

After a friendly kiss turns into a tongue skating over Diego's scruffy
after-five shadow, as Michael bends for a taste of nip, Diego uninhibitedly
begins to unbutton Michael's shirt. Of course, Diego can't ignore the
sensation of Michael's tantalizing tongue and cupping lips, "Oh-h-h-h!"

Just as Diego gets Michael's Rockbottom shirt open, the two freeze in
place!

"Dad? Is Michael here?"

As Michael buttons up real fast, Diego quickly rubs a hand over his left
pec, causing the wet spot to instantly dry up!

"Mi-i-ichael," Desi yawns and addresses the open room after rubbing sleep
out of his eyes, "do I have to pick up fish guts?"

"Pick up fish guts?" Michael asks him. "Where did you get an idea like
that?"

Diego picks up the slack, "Uh, like you told him, Michael?"

Shooing the duty away with his hand, Michael says, "Oh well, that's only if
the fish-feeder doesn't show up. `You', you'll be working with Caleb."

"Caleb?" Desi suddenly is awake and alive. Having been to Rockbottom only
twice since moving to the shore hamlet, "Do I know Caleb?"

"Not unless you've been to Rockbottom within the past two weeks?"

"You would have recalled," Diego trains his eyes on Michael's face,
"because we haven't been to Rockbottom unless you yourself have taken us?"

"Okay," Michael extends a short smile before responding, "then you probably
haven't met Caleb. He started out as a summer aquarist, took a short leave
of absence, pursuing a degree in marine biology. Back to work at the
marina, he's now our `Aquarium Educator' and is in charge of guiding people
around the aquarium. And now," Michael addresses Desi, "`you' will be
helping him!"

"Cool! I'm going to be a guide?" Desi says, already with pride.

Diego assumes, "Which means you have to pay attention and do everything
Caleb tells you to do. Stay out of trouble?"

"Oh, dad," Desi complains.

Michael jokes, "Just keep your hands out of the piranha tank and things
will be fine!"

Diego says with fright, placing his left hand over his left pec,
"Piranhas?"

Even Desi can see between the cracks, "He's only kidding, dad! Lighten up!"

"Yeah," Michael mimics, "lighten up, dad!"

He knew, Diego stirring up a bit of fun, but settling down to seriousness,
"Which I think you better think about getting some sleep?"

"It's Saturday, dad," Desi meaning the next day. "There's no school?"

"Just the same?"

Desi knew. Eleven was stretching it, but it wasn't only his next day
excursion to Rockbottom which contained his interest. He `noticed' the
lightning glance his dad shot towards Michael and when he made his last
remarks before heading up to bed, "Have a nice night," it was neither
focused on Michael, nor his dad, but Desi telling both!

"What do you think?" Diego asks Michael, after Desi has scampered up the
stairs.

Michael replies, "I think he's excited about his summer `job'," he faces
the direction in which Desi has disappeared.

Of course, Diego had concern about his son getting upstairs to bed, but
also on his mind is where he and Michael left off, before Desi's
interruption. Not meant to sneak up behind him, Diego's hands invaded the
tail of Michael's shirt, weaving up and under the fabric.

Michael, after feeling a `presence', smiled, but remained stationary in
place, his mind refocusing on hands touching the bare skin of his torso.

As Michael has made mention in the past, when the two got `sweet' on each
other, Diego inquires, "You and your boyfriend, you're still entwined in an
open relationship?"

A year ago, Michael Coelho's life had been a whirlwind of events, two years
before, found by Alex Nouguet on the subway, whisked into a position of
waiter at the Coffee Bean, Alex's first job away from country life as well,
then after a rocky romance with Scotty Broyles, happened upon a submarine
salesman, sympathetic towards his malady.

"Truthfully?" Michael pauses, then says as he turns around, the tail of his
shirt following the contours of Diego's hands, "I think you can officially
say `we're over.'"

Having kept tabs on Michael over the past three or so months, Diego has had
a feeling regarding his friend's relationship status. Not at all surprised
over the news, "Does this mean you're `open season?'" he chuckles in a
nasally tone.

"Open season?" Looking down upon them both, "Not until my shirt is open?"

About to do the deed of unbuttoning the shirt, Michael takes two steps
backwards, pulling Diego's hands out from underneath. From their last
`sexual' encounter, Michael had remembered Diego's comment, about loving to
watch a man strip!

"Oh yeah!" Diego comments, his eyes intently peering at Michael's hands
working open the front of his shirt. However, his own hands weren't idle,
pulling the bow of the lace holding the two parts of his boardshorts
together.

Still, with it partially laced up, Diego's dark pubes could be seen. As he
peeled his shirt off over his shoulders, Michael flaunting his hairy pecs,
the shaggy stripe down the middle of his abs, pyramiding bellyhole swirl,
he had the sensation of licking his lips.

The porch which faced the sandy beach was wide open to anyone who came
within 50 feet of the lux beach home, but in the dark of night it became
incognito to the two strippers. It was Diego's doing, leading Michael out
to the screened in room with it's opened jalousie windows.

Michael says, watching Diego finally dropping his loose boardshorts, the
only article of clothing he had on, "Uh yeah, kind of crude making love in
the kitchen," he also hinted.

It wasn't really needed, Michael's comment, their second gay rendezvous,
impending on the sound of waves licking the shore and the smell of sea
salt. About 3 weeks ago, Michael had dropped by to talk to Kyle Dryfiss,
Alex's partner, regarding a business luncheon at Rockbottom. Realizing he
had the wrong day, Michael also found he had forgotten his house key. Diego
had been working from home, so when Michael came poking about, they both
let business slip from their minds and turned to pleasure.

This evening, having been through the rounds of a first affair, things fell
right into place.

Diego, totally in the buff, says, "You have a lot of catching up to do
there, Michael?"

Michael smiles at Diego's approach, knowing what is on his mind, what's
next, which resorts to sweet kissing. He fended off Diego's hands when
shucking his shirt, but allows fingers to fidget with his belt. "Oh-h-h-h!"
he sighs when Diego purposefully seeks to arouse, four fingers scraping on
the inside of his briefs, where his fuzzy trail is about to meet the
treasure!

Breaking off his kiss, same time his hands are finished unbuckling, Diego
says, "I love driving you wild!"

"How about wilder?" Michael whimsically suggests. Skipping over peeling off
each piece of apparel, Michael's fingers push both bottoms down. He makes
it apparent, feelings of their wild foreplay, making his hard shaft
`bounce'!

Diego laughs, exclaiming, "And I didn't even get my mouth on it!"

Making a comparison to their last sexcapade, Michael replies in an accusing
manner, "Now you know that's not how it goes, Deg!"

Just smiling, Diego retreats, dropping his hands to his sides.

Sloppily stepping out of his briefs and pants, leaving them in a huddle on
the floor, more than personal grooming is on Michael's mind, stepping up in
front of Diego, looking down, taking Diego's cock in his hand, "You're not
hard. Looks like I'll have to do something about that!"

Sure, Diego wanted it, a soft, warm mouth wrapped around his cock. He knew
it would be torture for himself, anticipating it getting hard in Michael's
mouth. After all, their last time together, which was slow, uninhibited by
time of day, nor having to be anywhere at a certain time, Diego knows how
Michael can turn a soft cock into a raging hardon. Though, he complained it
took so long last time, he became his own worst enemy, encouraging Michael
to do it slowly, take his time.

Now, with his first blowjob `under his belt', Michael knows not to drop to
his knees. His hand is good enough for now, rolling Diego's big balls
around in his hand, one hand almost incapable of handling two monstrous
globes, as his warm, goatee-enclosed lips feel up Diego's bearded face.

It's a short-lasting play on kissing, Diego's hands all over Michael's
shoulders, as the soon to be 21yo slightly bends his bod in order taste a
nip.

"Oh-h-h-h-yeah!"

Diego's crooning only serves to act as a drive for Michael's passion to
sexually please. Already, a hand still playing with Diego's balls, Michael
knows his tongue and teeth are serving the purpose of hitting Diego in one
of his hot spots, gnawing at each nip, producing a monstrous reaction down
below.

With what happened last time, about 10 minutes into their sexual closeness,
Diego follows through on the same course, feeling the expressed need to
push down on Michael's shoulders.

Accepting the gesture, Michael falls to his knees, but as a surprise move,
to both, Michael feeling the need to have Diego hear him out, his tongue
recedes from coating a path down Diego's smooth bod and kneeling like a
choir boy, confesses, "I just want you to know I've met someone else?" he
looks up for reaction.

Sarcastically Diego replies, "And you have to tall me this `wonderful
news', seconds before you're ready to go down on my waiting cock?"

Coming there this evening, it wasn't about Desi and the kid's summer job at
Rockbottom. With mixed reaction seconds ago, and with their previous
afternoon rendezvous, he wasn't sure of Diego's intentions. Perhaps, his
coming there this evening, it was an investigation of finding out, "I
wasn't sure of how you would take it, Deg?"

"Hey," Diego places a hand, long distance under Michael's chin, "I've got
one guy to keep me busy?"

It set the pace for the rest of the evening. Michael was just getting into
a relationship, possibly for himself, seeing if there was some magic
already there between himself and his friend. Sensing nothing but
`friendship', with the occasional twist of some friendly sex, "If you want,
I'll go?" Though Michael didn't make an effort to get up.

Furthering his opinion, their friendship and nothing more, Michael is
coerced by Diego remarking, "Are you kidding? And pass up on a hot
blowjob?"

He had said it twice, without lacing it with anything romantic and even
though he did spend about 5 minutes on his knees before Diego took to
reclining on the padded chaise chair, and catering to the fat 8c, Michael
went at this as another blowjob. However, he didn't perceive this as
ordinary, his cheeks swollen with man meat, probably the fattest shaft he's
ever stuffed in his mouth, it fueling Michael's own sexual fire, his hand
feeling the results, stuck between his own legs.

Engineering the action, Diego's hands would sometimes reach under Michael's
chest, searching through the light pec coverings of hair, grabbing onto his
nips. He never thought to analyze, only finding it pleasurable to grab a
guy's nips and toy with them. Yeah, it did occur to him now, one guy he was
with in college, bring it up, Diego's urging to latch onto his nips, knead
them to the point of a stinging hurt, but then again dropped the subject,
because squeezed nips often led to part of the electricity keeping a shaft
nice and hard, for both parties!

After Michael thoroughly grazed his tongue over the sides of Diego's shaft,
allowing enough time for the ocean breeze to partially dry portions of the
8-inch cock, Michael kept it lubed, his hand taking up the slack in
moistening it from wiry pubes to bulbed tip, asking, "You close, Deg?"

With a little less humor in his voice, Diego replies, "When was I `not'
close?"

They hadn't `fucked' last time and as with the previous time, each had a
sense of how this was going to end up.

Diego let Michael more or less lead, and when Michael began alternating
between sucking, going down on him, feeling his cock enter the corridor of
his throat, then replaced by a hand feverishly stroking him, he knew
Michael was passing up fucking.

At one time, Diego had been one of the highly sought after collegiates,
while in art school. Sometimes a session, where a subject posed for him,
had led to some back room, ass perched over a drawing table. After college,
he thought about the past 6 years of his life. Thinking he was bisexual, he
had shacked up with a woman when he was 17 years old and got her
pregnant. With pressure from his family, as well as the girl's, they
married. With Diego, Jr. coming on, his family were the ones who pitched in
to help with his upbringing, `her family' not giving much care to help with
a baby. Suddenly, Diego got a wake up call, with having the responsibility
of a baby. His `wife' was not so enchanted with casting off the fun of
being a teenager.

However, Diego also was not so caught up in having a `girlfriend' and it
was when he was 18, finishing up high school, it came to him he was `gay'
and not `bi.' Fortunately for himself, he was an only child in a family
whereas both parents worked, his mother in his father's company,
construction. But often his mother did not have to work and could stay home
with Diego, Jr.

Often Diego, Jr. was referred to, as invented by Diego's mother, `Little
Diego.' Around 9 years old, Little Diego got tired of the `name' and it was
Diego's father who came up with `Desi'. It stuck!

But none of this was on their minds right now, other than Diego's utter
urge to come and it didn't take much more before Michael was tasting his
sweet cream!

Not being a sex partner who was one-sided about the final climax, Diego lay
with his legs far apart, hands parked behind his head and doing a
half-crunch, flexed his six pack and cheered Michael on,
"Yeah-yeah-fuckin'-do it!"

Kneeling between Diego's stretched-wide thighs, Michael knelt, his hand
furiously stroking his 8c fist pounding against his black-haired
pubes. Head cocked back on the hinge of his neck, Michael's eyes were
squinted shut, bobbing forth occasionally.

Diego was `done', but didn't refuse Michael's hand, part of the sexual
innuendo, to give his nip a twist. In a way it was all part of `it', not a
feeling which drove some sexual electricity through his own nerve endings,
but `if it turned Michael on', was the only way Diego could think of it. In
a way, it did give him a sense of being turned on, allowing Michael to
`abuse' his bod, Diego's hand on his very soft man meat, causing
`something.'

But he would never be able to match the fervent display of Michael's fast
stroke, which sooner than later led to Michael's ejaculation.

"Oh yeah! Oh yeah, baby!" Diego's hand would still stoke his own snake,
using Michael's `lube' for stimulation.

As with last time, probably out of sheer exhaustion, Michael collapsed
slowly, right down upon Diego's bod, his balls just below Diego's balls,
which aligned their bods slightly `off', whereas the top of Michael's head
lay right under Diego's chin.

"Nice one," Diego replies, wiping his `soiled' hand on Michael's shoulder
blade.

"Yeah," is all Michael could render, totally spent of cum and energy.

"Just rest," Diego says, unconsciously meaning it for both of them, resting
eyes becoming sleep.

%

Copyright 2012 T. Chase McPhee

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


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I freely publish to the Nifty Archives and `do not' receive a royalties
paycheck at the end of the month! TCMcP :)


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