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.
Bar Tab Buy-out! 05 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"Around and around," Marco licks about the head of Scott's cock, "and around it goes," coming to full circle, his tongue starts up again, "and around and around..."
He was feeling good, but Scott didn't like all the interruptions, putting a lid on his cock, by bopping Marco on the head.
Now, instead of speaking, Marco was coughing, as Scott jambs his cock deep into Marco's throat, "Ka-ka-ka-ka.. shit, Scott! You almost choked me to death!"
Still laughing, Scott was saying, "Oh I'm 'so' sorry!"
"You're 'not' sorry!"
"Okay, so I'm not sorry, Marco," Scott lets out a giggle, "but it did feel fitfully good with suddenly having my cock enclosed in the tomb of your throat?" He said it like asking to put his raging hardon back in.
With saliva dripping off his lips, Marco says, "Not to mention you almost sealed me in an early grave, Scott?" But it wasn't only the look Scott gave him, a yearning to get back to where he cut off their cock-to-throat action, but himself having the same need to feel cock filling him up at either end. Looking upon the wet and fat, Marco says with decisiveness, "Y'know, Scott, I know you were feeling good just now, but how about trying me out from the other end?"
"Hmm," Scott replies. In a position to call the shots, lying on Marco's bed, Scott thought it kind of erotic to force Marco's head up and down his joystick. "I suppose if I want to get my revenge, I'll have to exert myself?"
"Revenge, Scott?" Marco says with disappointment as he backs his face away from Scott's pubes. "I was hoping maybe there would be more of a 'connection'?"
Scott got it right away, "Oh, so you think because you've gotten me this far, to your lair, a visit to your dungeon and then winding up in your bed, you and me have something going, huh Marco?"
"Well I..."
"Actually I find it very peculiar 'I' wasn't taken away with the Barnett brothers this morning. After all, even though I defend myself as not being a part of their Ponzi scheme, the 'law' is not played out this way normally. Everyone is guilty until proven innocent?"
"No, you have it backwards, Scott. Innocent, until proven guilty."
With his arms comfortably tucked in behind his head, Scott lays there as he conveys, "Yes, that's what the constitution says of everyone's rights, Marco, but I have a feeling you're not used to playing by the rules?"
He admits to Scott, "Okay, so I've got clout."
"Clout?" Scott probes.
"Two years ago I broke up a smuggling ring which netted the government tons of dough. But not only was money the issue. Related to the sting, they happened upon a cache of names, stored in a database. Apparently linked to terrorism, over sixty operatives were arrested in eight foreign countries. Regardless of how all this was discovered, I walked out of the case the sole agent responsible for all these discoveries."
"Quite a few feathers added to your warbonnet?"
Marco smiles, thinking back to when he perused Scott's file at headquarters, correlating, "Native American studies, University of Montana?"
Smiling, thinking Marco had all of dossier implanted in his brain, he asks, "Think you know it all about me, do you?"
"I can't help it Scott. I have like this photographic brain and what I've seen of your files, is right fresh in my mind, as if I read it five minutes ago."
"Well, here's one for your case file," Scott moves his hand to his cock, wanting to keep it firm, "When I'm all horned up, it's usually a good idea to follow through with what I'm suggesting before I go ahead and take what I want?"
For the most part, throughout their conversation, Marco sat there on his heels, his bod caved in, stomach in folds. Right now, seeing a challenge before him, he concedes, unwrinkling his gut, kicking in his tightened abs, bod more erect as he plants his hands behind his head, in slave-surrender position as he replies, "Hey, if you want something Scott... don't let me be the one stopping you."
"Oh really?" Scott replies, relaxing his arms, his elbows falling to the sheet. Sensing more than giving in, Scott poses to Marco, "So, you're going to allow me to take what I want without putting up a fight?"
Smiling, Marco relaxes his arms. Sliding his legs off the foot of the bed, he stands as he says, "I didn't say I was giving in without a fight, Scott!"
Sitting on the side of the bed, Scott uprights himself and walks to where Marco stands, confronting him. "Somehow I don't think we've reached the epitomy of your motives, Marco. There's something more to all this 'buyout' scheme. You're not leveling with me and I aim to find out here and now exactly what you have in mind for me."
Two things were keeping Scott from bolting for the door and getting the hell outta there. First, as he catapulted himself off the mattress, his hand was still stroking, keeping his lust alive. Secondly, everything up until now didn't seem to jive. First it seemed like Marco was picturing himself as 'man-on-top', but now the lead seemed to be in 'his' favor. Then, suddenly he's challenged. His curiosity was keeping him stifled from just giving up. Perhaps, the bare bod of his thirty-eight year old aggressor played a minute part in all of this.
"C'mon... c'mon," Marco prodded Scott along as he backed up. In a defensive position, arms out to the side, ready to defend if and when Scott decided to charge, Marco also drew him on, waving his fingers to come and get him!
"I'm warning you... I'm not holding back, Marco!"
Little did Scott know, it's exactly what Marco was hoping. He didn't want his heightened afternoon to end with simply getting fucked in the throat. Marco had needs beyond what the ordinary man could conceive. Earlier today he saw Scott as a tough CEO and hoped to capitalize on that image. First he tried finding out how resilient Scott was physically, at the time of the seizure of the Barnett brothers and then mentally, in his own dungeon. As the tables slowly turned, Marco seeing he could very well become the preyed upon, he willingly gave up his role of predator. "Me neither," Marco replied.
But was he? As Scott charged, he put on a good show, seemed to move his arms in to protect himself, but not quite making the grade.
"Hooogh!" Marco belched, feeling Scott's fist hit him point blank in the stomach.
Backing up, watching Marco fall to his knees, Scott reacting, "That was too damn easy." He stood there over Marco, hands on his hips, looking down.
All Marco could say is, "Oh man Scott... that was one hefty punch."
And from experience, he knew how tricky Marco could be, so stood far enough, so he wouldn't experience without warning any 'ball-crushing' surprises. But too, along with his Native American studies at the University of Montana, he also took psychology along with a roster of other subjects. He wasn't immune to the fact Marco was looking for 'more' of, "The least you could do is stand and take your beating like a man?"
Looking up, Marco asks, "Huh?"
"A tough guy like you Marco? Like one punch put you out of commission?"
Marco smiles, unfolding his doubled up position and stands like nothing phased him. "I can tell..."
"What?" Scott braces himself for the unexpected.
"You were expecting me to come up between your legs," Marco makes a fist and acts it out, raising his clenched hand.
Yeah, Scott thought it a possibility, but from what he's been put through he rather venture to guess, "Or maybe you rather put on a nice show for me, having my fist come up between your legs?"
"I haven't a clue to what you're talking about Scott?"
A wry smile on his face, Scott makes his advance. Cautious, he gets the feeling he doesn't have to be, with a feeling of mutuality coming between them. "Oh really? Maybe this will straighten things out a bit?"
Scott stood at five feet, ten inches tall, Marco about an inch taller. All he had to do is bend about two inches to his right in order for his right hand to seize the pair of hairy orbs.
Staring Marco in the eyes and smiling, Scott asks, "What happened to the fight in you? Not interested in defending your manhood?"
They stay there, Marco in silence as Scott stares at him.
Slowly Scott began to squeeze.
Marco winced, even sighed, "Ohhh," but it wasn't the pain of Scott's hand grinding his ballsacs together. "Ohhhhhhhhhh!"
"What?" Scott questions. "Where's your hands to defend yourself Marco?"
With another squeeze of Scott's hand, Marco reacts, "Oh yeah Scott!"
And in the opposite reaction, Marco wanting more, Scott releases.
"Ohhhh," Marco reacts, pouting.
"You woos!"
"I'm not a woos, Scott. I... I just have needs and..."
Getting it, Scott renders, "And when you walked into the office this morning you had a mission to find out something. I take it you have answered all of your questions, but you've left me with a few blanks to fill in?"
"I know this may sound crazy Scott, but if want to know anything else, you'll have to beat it out of me?"
"Crazy Marco? Now why would you want someone who isn't capable of such violence to walk up to you," Scott walks up to him, "take their fist," he makes a fist and holds it at gut level, "and beat the truth out of him? Hmm... sounds to me like an interrogation technique. Now why would you want to subject yourself to such a thing?"
But before Marco could answer, Scott's fist was into his gut. "Hoouggghhhh! Oh fuck!"
"So," the thirty-four year old CEO says, grabbing Marco's scalp, "you really want to see how I get business done at the office?" He knew Marco was playing a game here. As he pulled him to his feet, there was no resistance, like one gut punch and a light one at that, wasn't going to put this man down. "Why, if a guy came up to me and said, 'sorry sir, I don't have that report for you yet', you know what I'd tell him?"
"No. What?" Marco asks, looking Scott in the face, as Scott holds him by the side of the face.
"I let my fist speak for me!"
This time, as Marco doubled over, Scott held his fist in place at the point of impact, Marco hanging there on Scott's arm till he turned his whole bod and left him to fall backwards onto the bed.
Seeing this as a game, Scott was starting to like it. In reality, he never treated an employee as mentioned, never had such thoughts, or that of delivering any such treatment, as his fist punching Marco in the stomach.
"No more Scott," Marco says without conviction, lying splayed out of the bed, his hands holding his sore gut.
"No more? Hell, you're not going to give up that easy, are you?"
"I've had enough," Marco says.
"Oh so, you 'are' ready to answer all my questions in regards to this buyout in the Greek Isles?" While waiting for Marco to regain his breath and think on it, Scott's hand brushed the hairs on his chest and upon asking, "Well?" his hand slid down his stomach trail, over his bellyhole and found something extroadinaire. His cock was still raging hard and even the tip elicited a bit of gooey substance. Suddenly he wasn't smiling.
"What?" Marco senses something.
Speaking his true feelings, Scott replies, "I think I'm enjoying this!"
"I thought you were all along," Marco says.
With sudden realization, Scott says, "I can't believe I really liked punching you in the stomach!" He squeezes a little more cock juice out and rubs it between his digits.
"Cool!"
Marco's reply made Scott wake up to reality, "You wanted me to like it, didn't you?"
Smiling, thinking he had it all in the bag, Marco parks his hands behind his head, replies in a relaxed manner, "One of us had to come out of this as the victor and I'm sure as hell glad it was you!"
Right away, Scott knows all this was coming to a boil, Marco having some kind of hidden agenda, even though it wasn't fully known to him. He was getting to like Marco, at least the time spent in bed, but now he was feeling deceived. Come hell or high water he was going to find out, preferring the manner of 'hell'!
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-fuckin-shit!" Marco screamed out, doubling up as Scott's knee crushed his balls.
Bouncing right back up off of the mattress, and Marco's balls, Scott asks, "Ready to talk yet?" In and out of play acting, "Or haven't I given you enough to go on?" At the same time, Scott feels his inner thigh. 'Shit!' he exclaims to himself, having seeped out more fluid. While allowing Marco to whine over his crushed balls, Scott was thinking, 'did I really get a kick out of that?' Another thought crossed Scott's mind, did he really do damage to Marco's balls?
By this time, Marco has reacted on the defensive, rolled to the edge of the bed, over the side and leans towards the mattress, caressing his family jewels.
In a change of emotion, he asks, "Marco, you okay?" He bends over, tags Marco's shoulder.
"Just.... fine," Marco said in all of two breaths. "Oh man Scott, you really clobbered my balls."
Playing coy, Scott says, "You mean you weren't expecting me to, Marco?" And to add to his expectations, "I thought that's why you had your legs spread apart as far as they could go?"
Turned around, facing Scott, Marco shimmied his way back onto the side of the bed, replaying the position as he was in before. "You mean like this?"
His confession rectified matters for Scott. Now it was up to him to make the next call.
Before he could, Marco's eyes change position, from looking Scott in the face to his pubic region. "I think your cock is bigger than when you wanted to fuck me, but it's for sure it wasn't leaking as much. Kind of gives me the feeling you want to knee me again in the balls, Scott." And driving the point home, Marco puts his hand on his cock, pulling it towards his own stomach and spreading his knees farther apart. "Go on Scott. Take your best shot."
Scott wasn't sure. Well, he was sure about one thing Marco had said, he 'was' enjoying this, which he had questions to himself 'why'. But the other thing is, was Marco really liking the abuse. "Unlike before, you know it's coming this time. What's to assure me you don't make a last ditch effort, scoot yourself out of the way and then do something likewise to me? Huh?"
"Because maybe I've learned a thing or two between this morning and this afternoon?"
Scott had no recollection of time. Along with stripping off their clothes, came his watch. Last time check, it had been four o'clock. Even though the bedroom blinds were dimmed, there was some light coming in from the outside. It could have been an hour later or more. But somehow, those hours of time which had passed made no difference. All he wanted to know is some semblance of what their relationship up until now had morphed into becoming. Since it was Marco offering, he counters, "And how would that go?"
Relaxing his knees a bit, Marco's hand still pinned his cock to his bod as he set to telling, "First, I think you and I are made for each other."
"You and me?" Scott replies, relaxing his pose from hands on hips to folded across his chest. "And what do you have to back up your reasoning?"
"Me? I can take it or give it, which probably doesn't mean much to you right now. For our purposes, I've found out I like taking it from you. For me, that's important, because I 'have' to like the man giving it. Also, you have the image."
"Image?"
"What are you about six feet?"
"Five feet, ten inches," Scott answers the question.
"Close enough. We're about the same height, but you'll have boots on and I'll be barefooted, so it'll add an inch to your height and subtract an inch from mine."
"I'll have boots on? The plot thickens," Scott concludes, thinking there was more to this than Marco was telling. Too, he stands there, curious.
"Uh, yeah," Marco rethinks what he's said. Now thinking he's prematurely given out information, "I'll get to that in a minute. In other respects, you've managed to keep 'hard' without trying," he looks down at Scott.
Scott looks down at himself. Dropping one of his hands from caressing his pecs, he fondles himself. He toys with his shaft, picking it up, allowing it to drop, bounce, doing it again.
"We can still do something about that?" Marco says. "Um, want to bash my balls again?"
For Scott, minutes ago it might have been enticing, but with Marco shooting his mouth off about how he feels his life is headed from this point, Scott seems to have lost 'the feeling'. "Um, you mentioned something about dinner?"
"You don't want to bash my balls?"
"If you want me to bash your balls, I'll bash your balls, but it's not like I'm going to get anything out of it?"
"If you're not going to get anything out of it, I'm not going to get anything out of it. Um, I guess since you're faucet's turned off, we might as well give up."
He kind of felt bad, Scott saying, "Sorry. I'm just not feeling it right now."
"How about a quick blowjob and then we'll get something to eat?"
It's the least Scott could do, plus it's not like he would not be getting out of it. Sure, his balls still cried out for release, even at a lower decibel. And even though it seemed like things gravitated to where he held the whip, he asks, "Um, like how do you want to do this?"
"Like how exotic do you want to get?"
Scott didn't understand this at all, so left it up to Marco, "Whatever you want."
"Cool!" Marco started calling the shots.
Opening the draw of the side table, he produced a pair of leather cuffs.
"Now what am I supposed to do with these?" He asks, taking one of them and feeling up the leather.
Marco was already in progress, fastening one around one of his ankles. "Here," he produced his other leg on the bed, "fasten it around my other ankle."
"I don't know why I'm doing this!" But Scott did it, opening the leather cuff, putting it around Marco's ankle, feeding the leather tab through the buckle and pulling it tight. "Tight enough?"
"Whatever you think, 'Sir'."
"And what's 'that' supposed to mean?"
"I might as well start getting used to it."
"Oh, so if I'm the 'sir', what does that make you?" Scott put it to him as he completed fastening the leather cuff.
"Whatever comes to mind Scott."
"Are you sure you want to know, 'bitch'?"
"Hmm, does that mean you changed your mind, 'Sir'?"
Scott gave indication he didn't understand.
"Maybe you want my ass and not my mouth?"
"Would we have to unfasten the cuffs and reapply them elsewhere?"
Excitedly, Marco replies, "No. Not at all. In fact, cuffs on my ankles could work for either setup!"
"And how would that go, 'bitch'!"
Marco smiled. Totally versatile, he could take it or give it, but for Scott he was slowly changing his mind towards what position he preferred. If looking for a sign of how he was feeling about the way things transpired, it would be easy to tell Marco's reaction, his cock as rigid as a stalagmite. "Whichever way you want it to go?"
He smiled, since thinking about it, when Scott says, "If my stalactite should happen to become dislodged from the cave ceiling?"
Again, recalling Scott's educational background, "Geology 101 or 102?"
"Nada," Scott replies. "I'm surprised my records didn't tell of how I got lost for two days while exploring Jewel Cave, when I was seventeen years old?"
"Hmm... must've missed it."
"Tell you about it at dinner... if we ever get to it!"
Of more interest to Marco, the Italian thinks right away about the possibility of Scott losing the condition of his stiff cock. "Sure! Here, fasten this to the head of the bed."
Out of the draw Marco produces a long chain.
"Like how far?" Scott asks, holding one end to the farthest wrought iron bar of the 'jail-bar' looking frame.
"All the way," Marco says, knee-walking to the other side. Then, lying down on his back, he inverts his legs, instructing, "Now fasten the connector bar to the chain."
"Um, like you don't mind behaving like a wishbone?" Scott says with a little chuckle.
"I can take it, if your cock can take it!"
"Is this going to make a difference in the size of the opening?"
"No," Marco replies. "Only in the accessibility!"
In reality, for Scott's thinking, his hand on his cock, stroking it, eye contact drove him on. "For the record, I've never fucked a guy in this position before?"
Marco, rather enjoying the position of relaxing, hands behind his head, with his cuffed ankles stretched far out, attached to the chain linking him up to the iron head of the bed, all he could do is smile as he watched Scott talking, taking up position between his legs.
"And what are you smiling at?"
"You."
"What about me?"
"Tell me Scott, how many asses have you fucked in your lifetime?"
"If your law enforcement report on me tells the exact number, you let me know!"
"If my report even guessed the number of 'fucking' times, Scott, would I be asking you?"
Scott smirked, but in the mean time he wasn't wasting any time, lest he lose the potency of his stiff shaft staying erect. He spit in his hand, lubed it up and then as he squatted down, allowed the tip to rest on Marco's ass lips.
"I'm ready when you are!"
A bit intimidated by Marco's legs splayed out to the sides, Scott exclaims, "How am I supposed to.... oh shit!"
Just as he leaned forwards, ready to insert, Scott's question in his mind was where to place his hands. Normally, if he was fucking a guy in the regular manner, not trussed up like some turkey, he would place his hands on the guy's torso or around his legs, even feel up the guy's bod, but whereas Marco was concerned, he more or less had to analyze what was to happen when his cock was immersed.
All Marco could do is, at first, laugh, then yodel in ecstasy when Scott plunged into him.
Scott was confused at first, hanging by his arms on the wrought iron headboard, it sure felt good, his cock stabbing Marco till he could feel his balls slapping against ass. Secondary, was the way in which Marco did it, pulling on Scott's nips till he lost balance. But as he now braced himself on the iron railing, like natural, his legs lengthened out. "I feel like I'm doing a fuckin' pushup - a fuckin'-oh-soo-good pushup!"
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Copyright 2010 T. Chase McPhee
`Bar Tab Buy-out!' 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.....