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.
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Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection.
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A NiFTy LiTTLe TALe 06 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"Everybody decent?" Poul turns and with the back of his hand hiding his words, says to Jason, "We hope not, huh?"
Agreeing on the spur of the moment, Jason had second thoughts to the two of them barging right on in, without warning.
"Either they're sleeping or..."
As Jason has inside info, "Jeffy's probably at the campus cafe with his boyfriend."
"Calhoun has a boyfriend, does he now?"
`Oops!' Jason caught himself. He figured what was Mutt and Jeffy's business, was their own information. He swore himself off to secrecy, allowing people to find out about the couple on their own.
Impatient or just plain curious, Poul presses, "C'mon now and tell me who Calhoun's little whore is!"
He laughs, but Jason wasn't.
Not a violent person, Jason sometimes would react to someone putting down a friend and even though he did not mention the name of Poul's assuming `whore', takes the 20 year old by the balled-up fist, shirt mushed in his hand at the chest, lifts him right off his feet and plasters his back to the wall, shouting, "Let's get something straight... Nobody calls any of my friends a dumb-fuck whore!"
Whereas the 6'2 blue-eyed blond stood on his own two feet, a cool personality, full of himself, thinking he was the ruler of the world', now Poul was backing down as he stutters, "Uh, no, no, no, that's not what I meant. I mean..." he panics, "I didn't mention dumb-fuck', did I? Whatever, I'm.. I'm real sorry, I am?" Poul says hurriedly, in a panicky mode.
So, he might have a got a little violent. Jason knew how to fight, at least after the incident when he met the plumber's assistant, Hector. The assistant and his uncle, whom owned the plumbing business, had showed up at his house, to replace all of the leaky faucets and other fixtures in all of the bathrooms in his parents' mansion. On their lunch break, the uncle took off for an eatery. Hector had a boxed lunch. The parents weren't home, which was typical after Jason hit high school and proved he could be independent and safe on his own.
Second day on the job, Hector conveniently forgot his water bottle. Seeking and finding Jason, in his room, run-of-the-mill fashion statement, shirtless and wearing only shorts, Hector had communicated the fact he forgot something to drink, "If you could spare a glass of water, Mr. Croft?"
By the age of seventeen, Jason had already learned the fine craft of being checked out, Hector's eyes all over his chest and stomach, "Mr. Croft's my dad. My name is Jason. Let me just close this out?"
"I hope I'm not taking you away from anything important?"
"Nah. Just need to make sure this is saved." With his eyes affixed to his computer monitor, Jason had a hunch where Hector's eyes were focused!
Before getting up from his desk, he wanted to check out something. Knowing Hector had lay eyes on his smooth chest and the beginnings of his little treasure trail, Jason wanted to check something out, call it, `provide a little stimulation.'
Like bait, when he closes the browser, in plain sight his screensaver shows 2 dudes, about 20 or 22 years old, both nude, one flat on his back, the other overhead, balls hanging down from the top dude, cock in the bottom dudes mouth and top dude handling the bottom dude's cock, sucking in cock-head.
He could have felt jealous, his laptop drawing all the attention away from himself, but whereas the '69' cock-suckers provided the bait, it all added up to Jason proving all his assumptions correct.
That summer, Jason discovered his bod was really filling in, hairy pits getting hairier, treasure trail more pronounced, a defined trail from navel to... His pubes definitely adding some definition around his cock, nice dark hair, which came to a triangle... Jason even laughed at himself, the treasure trail being the stem of an arrow, the triangle, the point. Ever since he's met up with his father's business partner at the penthouse', he's learned a thing or two about gay flirting', `being sexy', etc.
While Hector was busy admiring his screen saver, Jason inched his gym shorts down so a hint of his dark pubes could entice!
"Nice computer," the 5'9 32 year old Latino says, "I like the shape of it. Very..." he had to stop a minute, following Jason's `flirt', "compact." Then, falling for not necessarily all of the bait, Hector compliments, "You work out?"
Even though his parents weren't there, his older brother Jordan off at college, there were people in the house, a few staff who kept the place going, including the house manager, John, who spent a lot time making sure the limo driver kept the cars polished to a spit shine. He had quite a few amenities, more than the average teen outfitted a room with; full size refrigerator and a modified cook space.
"I do," then remembering why Hector was there, "You wanted a water, right?" Jason heads for the fridge.
Hector follows, saying, "Nice setup," which in the plumber's opinion included how everything was all in the same perimeter with the bed.
"Thanks," Jason swings open the fridge door, saying, "Oops! Out of water. How about a beer?"
"Beer?" Hector questions. "Are you old enough?"
"Nah, but I have my sources." Jason begins to weave a little tale, "You see, I happen to go out and went down to the garage to get my car. Forgot my keys. Went to check the board for the extra key and it wasn't there. So, I take a hike up to the loft, where the driver stays off and on and what do you think I found?"
"Bats? Birds? Bees? I give up," Hector replies.
"Birds and the bees are close, Hector," Jason giggles, "but no, I found the driver on his knees on the bed, John fucking the living daylights out of him!"
Knowing Jason didn't have the '69-boys' on his laptop for no reason, Hector replies, "Probably would have made a good screensaver!" he laughs.
Jason laughs, puts the bottle of beer back, saying, "Yeah, too bad I didn't have a camera! Oh wait. I have Gatorade?"
Taking his, Jason walks to the door, saying, "Have a seat, make yourself comfortable. Take your clothes off if you want!"
Hector watches Jason click the lock on the door, which draws him to the conclusion, "You're not serious?"
"Why not?" Jason replies, stepping out of his gym shorts as he is walking. "If you're worried about an older guy like you and a young dude like me hanging out together, don't. I've grown up around guys of all ages."
Dumbstruck, a little nervous, Hector stands there in his khaki-blue plumbing outfit, tries putting thoughts into words, "You've turned tricks?"
Standing in front of Hector, still in his skimpy Nouguet cock-pocket styled briefs, with ample ammunition to fill the pocket', Jason says, "Hey, I probably could have written The Joy of Gay Sex', with all the guys I've hung with," he laughs.
Hector still didn't know what to say, standing there in a frozen position.
"You didn't open your drink. Allow me."
He didn't voice opinion one way or the other, just allowed Jason to remove the plastic bottle, with the blue liquid, from his hand.
With a plan, Jason-the-man unscrews the cap, tipping the open bottle towards Hector.
"Shit! Sorry!" Jason acts out, like he `accidentally' wetted up Hector's uniform.
Hector blames himself, "No, no, no," he shakes the front of his shirt.
Reacting, Jason says, "You're getting it on the carpet," he rushes off for the private jon, "Let me grab a towel."
Before Jason could retrieve a towel and return, there was Hector, standing in the doorway between here and there, rationalizing, "I thought it might be better, rather than drip on the carpet, the tile floor better?"
Knowing something was up, both playing this little Heckle and Jeckle game, Jason says, "You could take the shirt off?"
Still reluctant, the `teen' issue, Hector stands there, wanting.
"Better yet," Jason wanting more, walks the two feet over to where Hector stands, "I think you need help deciding."
With a foolish, melancholy quirk to Jason's smirk, Hector stares at him, not making a move as the button's on his shirt are tooled-open by Jason's nimble fingers.
Three down, three to go, Jason already spies the furry facade, "Know what?" he asks, for lack of conversation.
"What?" Hector replies, breaking out in a sweat.
"I think really hairy guys are cool!"
Not knowing how to address this, Hector says, "Cool."
Down to the last button, Jason tugs on the shirt, "You know what?"
"What?"
"The Gatorade got on your pants?"
Hector wasn't born yesterday, yet he wasn't letting on to the fact he knew Jason was `working' him, "What are we going to do about it?"
"Hmm, we don't have much time, do we?"
Hector checks his watch, "About five minutes, darn!"
With the shirt parted open, Jason wanted at least to `pet' Hector and afraid he wasn't going to get another chance, thinking Hector would chicken out, uses the hands on approach, "When can we get together so I can feel up all this lush carpeting?"
Now that set Hector off, Jason's hands exploring under the shirt, especially when he gets to the rounded pecs, stiffening up Hector's nubs!
"Oo-o-o-ooh!" Hector voices opinion of having his nips tweaked up!
Backing off, Jason knew what it did to a man, taking `heaven' away from him, "Like the midas touch, do you?"
"I still live with my family. How about we meet at my uncle's business, after 5?"
"Hmm, does he have a comfortable sofa?"
"More," Hector begins to button up, knowing the time factor, "he has a bed in the back he uses to sack out on between jobs."
Experienced, Jason dictates, instead of asking, "I don't think we should meet so early. Pick me up around 8."
"Kind of late, no?" Hector replies, loosening his belt, to tuck his shirt in.
"Nah. If I get back home around midnight, I know a way in where they don't know I'm coming in the house."
Doing the math, Hector says, "Four hours?"
"Yeah," Jason acts forward, running the back of his hand down Hector's shirt, right over the little hard bump under the left side pocket, "but it's going to take awhile to set the mood."
Rather than wait till later, Hector springs it on Jason, "You wouldn't happen to be into bondage and discipline?"
Not acting surprised at all, Jason, even though he hasn't done half as much as an older dude, states, "Sure I'm into the whippy and chains!" he laughs it off.
It had been building between Hector's legs, looking upon Jason, but the mention of his favorite hobby got him really tingling, "A man after my own heart!"
Joking, Jason replies, "I'll take that too," and since he's played the part already with some other trick, "boy!"
With fastening his belt, Hector, even though a man addressing a mere teen, "Yes, sir!"
The memory of all that and the aftermath has consistently flared up from time to time and even though his meetings with Hector were all play-acting, as he clenched Poul's shirt, chest all balled up, Jason demonstratively says, "Watch yourself or else I'll have you on your knees!"
Jason is like, zonked out of his gourd, when strangely, Poul starts unbuckling his belt, strips it from the loops of his pants. Acting on the defensive, Jason backs away, but hadn't needed to, as Poul says, "Here, take this. I'll take my shirt off. You punish me as long as you think is necessary."
"What?" Jason shook his head a little, thinking his hearing is off?
Not waiting for a reply, Poul unfastens a few buttons, pulls the shirt off overhead, exposing his muscled, smooth bod, the thin treasure trail. "How do you want me?"
All Jason could think of at the moment is, "Why?"
Knowing an explanation was in order and not that he did this for every Tom, Dick and Jason, "My father was a stickler for doing as I was told. There were demerits for not crossing every t' and dotting every i'."
He could only watch, still in a state of disbelief, how this tough fucker suddenly could turn off the rough and tough look, and belittle himself so.
"This okay? Sir?"
While Jason was thinking on this, Poul had stripped down to the waist, taken his leather belt out and now, after handing him the belt, stood by a section of wall, arms and legs eagle-spread. From this position Jason spots something alarming, "Where did you get these scars?" he stares, looking all over Poul's back.
"As I have said, with my father, doing things wrong were not in his code book of bringing up a child."
He didn't mean it as a joke, only going on the occasional line, which would probably be a permanent addition to Poul's muscled back, "You must have done more than a few things wrong?"
Comparing, as far as the financial matter of well being, they could be a match, but whereas Jason was cool about his teen years, it was not a cool situation with Poul, "It didn't matter. They were divorced. It was his fault, but no one could tell him that, or even try. He would drink and when he did, my older brothers and me were prisoners in our own house."
With the picture of Poul's family life turning out in this way, he kind of guessed why he acted like he did. Especially, knowing how a person falls into a way of living, Poul and his connection with Graeme, into some kinky, gay-sex on Saturday nights, Jason was up for more variety in his weekend. Now, he wasn't even sure of rooming with Poul.
Be it he was punished as a teen, by way of the lash, his positioning himself, shirt stripped and against the wall, it was not going to be all of a sore experience. Saturday nights, his back would be a target for some dominant dude's belt or flogger, oh but how enjoyable it would be with some guy sucking his cock simultaneously, ending where he would be fucking the dude who sucked him and his dominant sir banging his own ass. For now, his cock grinding up against the wall would have sufficed, picturing Jason as the authority figure, the `power behind the push'.
One thing Jason was sure of, "I'm not going to punish you Poul."
His hands planed down the wall, arms dropping, Poul turning around, "I deserve it though. I did something wrong to you. I need to make it right."
"Cool," Jason replies lightheartedly, "you can do my laundry for a month!"
Seeing he was getting no where with Jason, probably blowing the whole thing, offering himself up for sacrifice, "Yeah, okay... whatever. C'mon. Let's get your stuff together."
Feeling bad vibes over this whole scenario, Jason thinks his way out of it, "I really think I should go through the proper channels?"
"Sure," Poul realizes his ideal situation caving in, "whatever you think. Um," last ditch effort, "think you can give me `one' lash? I'd really appreciate it."
Having played the b.d.s.m. scenes with guys, in particular Ross Coen, his father's business associate, same who lent his penthouse suite whenever he chose, Jason knew how much a guy could crave pain. Giving in, "All right, but just one."
Turning around, Poul places himself in the eagle-spread position.
Not from a sadist's point of view, but rather workout, Jason was feeling a little tingly over the rippled muscles on Poul's back.
"This okay for you?"
"Fine for me," Jason replies, coiling the buckle of Poul's belt around his hand. From experience with Ross Coen, he knew exactly how much was needed to cross a man's back, though lots of times Ross wanted it on the ass!
"Anytime you're ready, Jason... I mean `sir'."
Really thinking about it, if they roomed together, he would get sick of hearing sir' and not Jason'. His mind was made up about the rooming situation. Now for the task at hand. He wanted to stick to his guns over the one' shot of the belt over Poul's back. Knowing this back has taken a lot of abuse, he figures Poul can take it' strong. He knew what Poul wanted, needed, lusted for, so wasn't about to disappoint, adding some realism, "This'll teach you to fuck with me, boy!"
"Ak-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-oh-oh-oh-oh-shit!" Poul cries out, dropping his hands, planing the wall with his fingers sliding.
Turning, Jason looks like he's in for it, even backs away when Poul moves towards him. `Surprise' is the least of his thoughts, Poul moving in for a hug, arms caressing him, with words, "I haven't had that in a long time."
Jason could tell. From the welts, they were well healed, "I know."
"I needed that so bad," Poul said, breaking contact.
"I know."
Poul, almost pleading, says, "It would great if we could room together?"
Speaking his mind, scooting around the dean's permission and all, Jason says, "I don't think it would be a good idea, Poul."
From that moment there weren't any words spoken, Poul grabs his shirt, walks out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Not sure what to think of all this, except to put it behind him, Jason quips to himself, about two things, "Sure got hard with one lash..." then carrying on with his business, "Whew! What a psycho!"
Truth is, as Jason already know could happen from a man equating pain with pleasure, his cock could blow up to full attention in short time. He couldn't say the same thing for himself though. Whenever he did the b.d.s.m. scene with Ross Coen, it didn't give him a charge, except for lying there in bed, getting expertly sucked and then discharging his teen load down Ross' throat.
With a slight knock, the door opens. Fully recovered, like nothing transpired between him and Jason, Poul asks, "Forgot my belt?"
"Oh, right," Jason says, unaware he still had it in hand.
"Don't forget, we're in full dress for dinner?"
He stuck around a little longer than necessary, when Jason exclaims, "Oh shit! Where's my gear bag?"
When Jason pulls out his white shirt, it has more wrinkles than Paul Wagner doing crunches!
"Switch!" Poul exclaims, again pulling his half-unbuttoned shirt over his head.
"What?" Jason questions, his wrinkled shirt hanging from a finger.
"Just give it here!"
Jason's hand still hangs in mid air, the shirt gone, "That was rude!" he laughs it off.
"Just shut the fuck up and put this on?"
"Pew!" Jason picked up on the scent, "smells like you just fucked a guy!"
More laughter.
"You won't get busted at dinner for smelling of sex, but you will if it's wrinkled. It's part of a student's responsibility to be properly attired for all meals."
"So I hear," Jason replies, stripping off his tee, almost reluctant to thread his arms into the sleeves. He does pick up on, "So, you'll probably get a few demerits for the wrinkled shirt. What's that about Poul?"
Back to his tough man persona, Poul replies, "If you want to, you can come jerk off while you watch me serve out my demerits?"
Even though Poul was a hot character, he wasn't doing it for Jason. Thinking on just this subject, after Poul excuses himself from the room, Jason thinks over who' today would fall into the hot man' category. Fixing his tie as he walked the hallway, he smiled, thinking of Rahul, but then not near man number one at all, which could be a tie between Jeadi and Professor Leeds. Of students, it would have to be Mutt and Jeffy, but not necessarily always between the sheets!
Entering the dining hall, Jason said a solemn, `oops' to himself, realizing Hawkins, short for Hawkins-Jones III, the headmaster, delivering opening remarks. He figures he's a marked man, walking in on the number one man's speech and in big trouble, sure to accumulate some demerits. He knows he's being watched, finding his way to a seat.
"Ten demerits!"
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Jeffy," Jason says, sitting in the chair they saved him.
Right after Hawkins was finished with his inconsequential, boring little welcoming speech, Jason sees Poul vacate his table and head over to the headmaster's table. Following the journey, Jeffy catches on, "What's up?"
Getting settled, which Jason was up on his table manners, unfolding the linen napkin and placing it over his crotch, "I dunno, but I have a feeling I beat those 10 demerits."
Snagged, in a nice way, Poul smiles, giving Jason the thumbs up.
Jason smiles back, replying with the same return gesture.
"What was that all about?" Mutt asks.
"Nothing much," Jason replies.
Jeffy says, "Well, you better hit the buffet table before there's `nothing much left'!"
"Oh! Right!" Jason replies, realizing this wasn't a sit down and serve dinner.
Grabbing himself a plate, he analyzes the first entree, when he is startled...
"Hey!"
"Hey? Hey, you almost made me drop my plate, `hey'," Jason complains to Professor Leeds.
Butting his elbow against Jason's elbow, to grab attention, "I guess you're in enough trouble, huh?"
"Was," Jason replies, "except Poul squared everything away with Hawkins."
"Oh. I didn't know you were friends?"
"Yeah, well, we were almost room mates," Jason says, stabbing slices of turkey, one after the other.
"I'm sure there's more to that story, but let me warn you," Leeds changes his friendly demeanor, "be careful."
"Careful of what?" Jason asks. At home, in the kitchen, while chef is prepping a meal, Jason would think nothing of stabbing a chunk of beef and popping it in his mouth. He does the same with a floret of broccoli!
"How uncouth!" Leeds replies, yet isn't totally disturbed, rather accompanies his remark with a slight smile.
"Yeah, ain't it?" Jason laughs it off.
The science professor confides, "I do the same thing at home. Tends to become a habit when I'm out, so I've got to watch myself!"
"Um, what were you saying about Poul, professor?"
Speak of the devil, "What's up?" Poul stands there right amongst the two.
"Have a nice dinner," Leeds excuses himself.
As soon as Kevin leaves, Poul renders, "Hot man. I'd love to get in his pants!"
Touchy about the comment, which by now Poul should have gotten the hint, regardless if Jason and the professor were friendly towards each other or not, Jason tones down his scorn, "You should have more respect for a faculty member."
Back to the first personality when Jason met him, Poul says, "Oh, I forgot. He's your uncle. Sorry `bout that."
"Yeah, right," Jason replies, yet after Kevin had left him with a warning about Poul, he didn't trust Poul's apologetic manner.
"By the way," Poul continues, as they survey the food tables, "I hope you don't mind that I've mentioned to a few friends how you and the professor are related. They say you got it made!"
"Really?" Jason suddenly grips with fear. He hasn't even eaten yet and has indigestion! Instantly, he comes back with, "I really wish you wouldn't say anything, Poul?"
Again he apologizes, leaving Jason with, "Anytime you want to get me hard with a few lashes, I owe ya!"
All Jason could do is shake his head, adding to the list of guys he's met, into kinky stuff, "Another weird one!"
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Copyright 2012 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.