The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblance to real people is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons in towns, cities, or governmental areas, in 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. This is fiction. Use protection in real life. `Got condom?'
"Living In The Lap Of Luxury" 05 The continuing epic fantasy of the `Buffalo Boys' wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"Well, well, well...."
"What have we here?"
Gil Eliot and Brian Philp enter the room, hand in hand.
Well appeased, with Zek's warm pudding tucked away in his tummy, Dario replies, "You should talk, guys?"
"Where you be?" Zek asked, curious of how the two spent the last five hours.
"Around," Brian replies, lifting the sheet.
The nineteen year old Aussie holds the sheet up, allowing himself to enter.
"Shove over Zek," he directs, paving the way for the two of them to lie in the same bed as Dario and Zek.
The pairs lay next to each other.
"We saw Reinken," Brian opens with.
"He explained to you?" Dario asks.
"Said you aren't into the bdsm, like you thought you could get into it?" Gil inquires.
"It hurt too, too much," Zek admitted.
"Yeah, you should see our cock and balls."
Lifting the sheet, Gil says, innocently, "Doesn't look like any big deal to me, other than soft."
"Oh, but you should've seen them two hours ago."
"Look, Dario... Zek..." Brian started out, with what deemed a very important matter.
Dario cuts in, "You can save your breath I think we got the same message."
"Oh? What message?"
Off the cuff, Zek says, "We like each other and that okay?"
Gil and Brian look at each other, then back to Zek.
"If you're meaning, like the way we like each other..."
Neither pair had to say more. It had been obvious that the poles had shifted. Their attraction had waned, producing a whole knew view of whom had been partnered off to whom.
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"Nick, a word," Dr. Joubert asked to see the `elder' member of the entourage, upon entering the Joubert home.
"What can I do for you, Dr. Joubert?"
At first, upon entering the study, he gave Nick a smile, a fluttering of eyebrows.
"Aren't you the randy one?" Nick replied to his flirting, realizing it was own lead in.
Then, being realistic, Joubert says, "I'm sure you're very happy with your partner, as I am with mine, Nick."
"I have to admit, I am."
"By the way, we can drop the foramlities. Call me Francois."
"Alrighty. So, what's up?"
"Have a seat, Nick."
"Thanks."
"I've been in touch with Marc Leitner, the director of Timber Creek."
"Yes, how is he faring."
"Not great, but so goes the territory when disaster strikes. He has insurance adjustors raking over the coals, plus safety inspectors and his own sanity, to boot, over the deaths of a camper and counselor."
"I feel for him. He's a good man."
"Yes, well, this is where your help is needed, Nick."
"Me? Well sure. Anyway that I can be of service, I'd be happy to apply my efforts."
"We need to set the boys on track. In a week they will be `shipping out', so to speak, back home or to college. Right now, they are conformed to living in the lap of luxury. Not that I mind it. After all, I did offer to open my home to them."
"Don't feel you need to apologize, Francois. I'm sure, on top of using the pool and other facilities, they've eaten you out of house and home."
"The money I'm not worried about. Marc has promised to reimburse me from the insurance monies. My main concern is to get these boys out of the `party animal' mode and back into a more serious manner of conduct."
A knock came at the door. The intruder didn't wait for an answer.
"Hey. What's going on, Nick?"
Francois Joubert looked at Dougie, as if he was interrupting the president's speech.
"He'll be alright. C'mon in, Douglass."
He took up with the leather chair, next to Nick.
"Y'know Dr. Joubert," Dougie started in, "I don't mean to go and tell you how to run your house, sticking my nose into things that aren't my business, but you're letting these guys really trash your place."
"Oh?" the kind doctor asked, looking to Nick. "And what might you know about that, Douglass?" Joubert took to the more serious namesake.
"Well, for instance, the pool. Now, at Timber Creek, if a guy pissed in the lake, it was hard to tell, unless you were standing right next to him. Have you ever stood next to a guy, in the water and felt him pissing?"
Nick rolled his eyes. Dr. Joubert, being a good sport about it, prodded him onward.
"Can't say that I have. Tell me what it's like?"
"Well, like when Marat and I talked one day. We're standing there, up to our navel's in lake water and suddenly my right thigh feels like a warm spring is shooting up from the bottom of the lake and..."
"Um, Douglass?"
"Yeah, Nick?"
"I think we can dispose of the graphic content?"
"But Dr. Joubert wanted to know. Didn't you?"
Dougie turned to the forty-two year old doctor.
"Oooooooh, you got me, Dr. Joubert!"
Realizing he had been a product of a practical joke, explaining something he didn't need to expell, Dougie laughed along with the doc and his lover.
"Just remember, Dr. Joubert. I don't get mad - I get even!"
Nick knew that Dougie jested, in the vengeful act of getting even. The phrase has been hackneyed to death. Anyone saying it in the manner he used, would assume the same.
"So, getting back to our problem, Nick?"
"You mean the guys trashing the place. You see it too?" Dougie forsees.
"Well, that does have something to do with the reasons I called Nick into the study."
Quite surprising to Dr. Joubert, Dougie comes out with some rational ideas.
"If I was in charge, I'd run this place as if Timber Creek still was in session!"
Nick didn't say anything, but gestured that is might prove to be a worthwhile idea, the look he gave Dr. Joubert.
"I'm not familiar with the program, however what do you think of it, Nick?"
"I think Douglass might have a good point there. It's worth a try."
"Yes and you have a counselor at your disposal, that Reinken fellow."
"Um, can I say something here?" Dougie pushes his hand up, raising it, to interject a thought.
"Yes, Douglass?" Dr. Joubert acknowledges.
"I think you should count him out."
"Oh?"
"He's okay, but he's nothing like Nick is. I'm not being prejudiced here, just because I love Nick and all..."
That made Nick smile.
"But, we need leaders who are good role models."
"And," Dr. Joubert insinuated, "Reinken is not of that type, I take it?"
"Hardly," even Nick admitted. He also went on to say, "Being that we have a lack of those types of individuals, I wonder if Steve and Matt wouldn't mind having a hand in this?"
"They're on vacation, Nick."
"True, but they seem like the type of guys that don't mind pitching in when help is needed. Plus, they seem to like younger guys."
"Um, how do you mean that Nick?"
Smirking, Nick replied, "Not the way that you think I mean it, Douglass!"
Even Dr. Joubert laughed at that one.
"So, can I leave this issue in your hands, Steve?"
"I think I can handle it," then looking to Dougie, "with my brainy assistant at my side."
"Very good. I need to get back to the hospital. It will be reassuring to leave things in good hands around here."
"You can count on us, Francois."
"And oh, there is one other matter, before you go, Nick."
"Yes?" Nick replies, parking his ass down in his chair, after raising it up.
"Adrian."
"Oh, yes," Nick starts in.
However, it's Dougie and his big mouth that starts the ball rolling.
"I can't believe he's related to you, Francois," Dougie says, using the casual reference of Dr. Joubert's name.
"Yes, well I have been accussed of that before," the doctor replies.
Nick says, "So, I assume you know about the painting, then?"
"I've know about that painting since the day he switched it, plus it did look very obvious, after I reviewed Adrian's bank account."
"Then how come you didn't say anything?" Dougie questions.
"I was waiting for day of reckoning. Adrian came to me last night and explained everything, which brings me to our next subject matter. It seems that between thinking of my own happiness, securing a partner, and my work at the hospital, I haven't been exactly the fatherly role model. Plus, when Adrian informed me he has no interest whatsoever in pursuing a medical career, well... I blew up."
"Bad move," Dougie and Nick said simultaneously, as if on the same wavelength.
"Yes, well... I did calm down. We had a very long talk. It seems that Adrian.. I don't know how to put this."
"No other way then to come right out and say it," Nick told him. "What's on your mind."
"Not only my mind, but Adrian's, I'm afraid. Nick, I have you to thank for Adrian's confession."
"Me?" Nick questions.
However, Dougie giggles, saying, "You did it to him, too," pertaining to Nick straightening out another defiant jock.
"I'm sure you," Nick starts to address Joubert.
But he buts Nick off, explaining, "No, Nick. I need to make it clear here. I'm only responsible for diverting Adrian to the worst of all scenes. I never even pictured something like this happening. Nick, Adrian over heard you talking about going to New York. He wants to... to go with you."
"With me?"
As with handling the rowdy party animals at the mansion, Dougie comes up with, "Might not be such a bad idea."
"Oh? How does that go, Douglass?"
Dr. Joubert wonders, along with Nick.
"Well, he could take some courses at NYU or another college. What interests does he have besides sex?"
The later part of Dougie's conversation set in motion a burst of laughter.
Francois joked right back, "I'm afraid that's the only subject that interests Adrian.
Being more serious, Dougie continues, "Well, then he needs to take a stab at something, plus some liberal arts courses."
"Tell me, Douglass," the doctor replies, "how do you know so much about the subject matter we are addressing?"
"Easy. The guidance counselor at school, which..."
Stopping midsentence, Dougie smiled, flushed from something deep inside. Something that wasn't meant to be forked over.
"Oh?" Nick interrogates, "And what would that entail?"
"Um, nothing. Never mind. Yeah," Dougie diverts to, "I think liberal arts would be good for Adrian, until he decides on what he wants to apply himself to."
"Well Nick, I'm very impressed!"
Sitting there, the elder half of the young relationship smiled a proud grin, emanating from the words of Dr. Joubert's praise of youth. Equally showing the expertise Dougie had just spilled out, Francois stood next to the nineteen year old, patting him on the shoulder.
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"What's on your mind, Dash, as if I didn't know?"
Sorting out their rooms, they came up short with available space, so Boone and Dash would be shacking up with Nick and Dougie, taking on the daybed. Fortunately for Dil, having more control over his future, had been able to coerce Adrian into forfeiting the other half of the kingsized bed, on Peter's behalf. Of course, Dil extended an invitation to Adrian, to take up the daybed in their room, but decided on finding other arrangements.
"I think you can very well guess, Boone."
So, having arrived from the restaurant, the two full-bellied eighteen year olds hadn't bothered sliding out the extra bunk of the daybed, welcoming themselves to flopping down on Nick and Dougie's bed. Removing his hands from behind his head, Boone turned his body, one hand slipping under Dash's denim shirt, around the back, the other grasping over the buttoned down chest, giving him a bear hug.
"I don't fault you for your thoughts."
"Huh?" Dash replied.
In reality, Dash prepared for another lectured speech on `letting go'. His hands parked behind his head, all he had to do is turn his head slightly, to match up his inquisitive look to Boone's face. He's the one that wound up bringing up the tabu subject.
"You aren't going to lecture me?"
"No. In case you didn't get the message yet, I care about you, Dash. Instead of knocking you down over this, I'm going to do what a person that cares, does... help you through it."
Searching his soul, but also that of the jock lying next to him, Dash switched thoughts, veering away from his brother, to that of the handsome guy next to him in bed.
"I'm sorry Boone."
"No need to be. It's like with my brother, Matt. I love him, like you love Peter. We would do anything for our brothers, right?"
"Yep."
"So, there's no need to apologize for being concerned about somebody you love, like..."
Not that Dash didn't want it to happen, but Boone, overcome with feelings, turned the body he caressed, lining their chests up and drew in the lips of the man he slowly began to fall in love with. Forgetting, for the moment, Dash's arms surrendered from behind his neck, coiling around Boone's lithe bod.
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"Ewwwwwwwwwwe!"
Three bodies sat up, to join Brian Philp's, waking out of a light slumber.
"Where'd that come from?" Dario asked.
Equally wrinkling up his nose, Zek eyed up the used condom, dangling from Brian's finger and thumb, caked on the inside with dried cum.
"That's what I'd like to know!" Brian questioned.
Whipping it out of Brian's hand, Gil takes it and tosses it through the air, making a perfect goal in the small garbage receptacle, next to the bed.
"Was my fucking you that uneventful, Brian?" Gil answered their question.
"Wait!" Brian stopped Gil. "I distinctly remember you tossing the condom you used, over the side of the bed."
To prove his point, Brian pivoted his nude form over the side, trapping Gil underneath, his head poking over the side of the mattress.
He reported, "Yeah... here it is!"
Both condoms looked to be the same, the crusty semen, dried on the inside of the rubber. Suddenly, Zek appeared redder than his normal dark, mideastern complexion.
"I am so sorry," Zek told them.
To lighten the atmosphere, Gil says, looking at the caked up condom, "Must've been some hot orgasm!"
A one on one conversation ensued between Zek and Gil, the two ass-pounders.
"Dario's have tight ass... give good cock massage." Zek replied.
Gil didn't refute the fact, adding, "Hell yeah. I don't know how many times I had to back off, to keep from shooting my wad and prolong that good, good feeling."
However, the ass-pounders got caught in the crossfire by the `poundees'.
"Well know," Brian started in, "which chute is it you prefer, Gil? Dario's or mine?"
"Um... uh..."
Gil fished for words, as thoughts flooded his mind. All summer long, his shaft invaded Dario's chute and he remembers explicitly telling Dario that each time felt like the first, his cock being massaged over and over by his tight ass ring. But, then again, compared to Brian's tight sphincter, he felt he had the best of both worlds.
"What do you think, Zek?" Gil passed the buck.
"Me?"
"Yeah," Dario put him on the spot. "Is Brian's ass tighter than mine?"
His rational reply wound up getting both of them off the hook.
"It different. Like we all are different, my cock in Dario ass feel different than in Brian chute."
Gil smiled, as both Dario and Brian seemed to accept Zek's answer.
Then he added, "But tonight I fuck Brian, to make sure?"
Gil and Dario exchanged favorable glances.
"And make sure you clean up after yourself, Zek!"
He promised.
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"So, what do you want to do?" Dil asked.
Standing there, next to Peter, in the handicapped chair, he wondered what was next on their nonexistant agenda.
"How about a swim?"
"But I thought..."
"Hey, I can't kick, but I can float!"
"Really?"
Some joy filled the glum room, as Dil thought living with a paraplegic might not be some tedious, as far as a social life goes.
"If you can find a pair of swim trunks and help me into them."
Dil informed the twenty-three year old, "Um, we don't wear them, as a rule."
Smiling, Peter replied, "I `like' that rule!"
In a quandary, Dil asks, "So, do you want to take your clothes off here or down at the pool?"
"Whichever you are going to do."
"Well, usually I'll strip down in the room and wear a towel around my waist."
"Okay. Let's do it!"
One thing Dil liked, was Peter's enthusiasm. The other is having the chore of helping him out of his clothing.
"Um, how do I go about this?"
Wiggling his eyebrows and gleaming from ear to ear with a smile, Peter suggests, "Help me onto the bed."
Pressing down on his arms, with his adrenaline rush, plus forgetting to put on the brakes, Peter pivots forward all at once.
"Whoooooooooooooooooooaaaaa!"
Trying to catch him, head on, Dil, an inch taller, at six feet, captures Peter's one hundred and eighty-five pounds up in his arms, as he falls to the floor, on his rump.
"Oooooomphffffffff!"
"Are you okay, Dil?"
"Yeah. I think so."
"Cool!"
Their bods, plastered together on the floor, gives Peter an excuse to get intimate.
"Cool?" Dil squirms a little. "You almost broke my ass!"
"Maybe later on you can return.... the favor?"
"But I thought."
"Hee heee... yeah. That's what a lot of guys figure. It's my legs that are paralyzed, not my cock, balls and ass!"
Dil smiled.
"So... so it's okay to..."
More than curious, Dil's hand, caught between them, already probed the nether-region, finding something `salami-sized'.
"Oooooooooooooooh!" Peter sighed. "I've missed that soooooo much."
"But didn't Dash..."
Dil's assumption made Peter smile.
"You know the saying, `if you want something done, you have to do it yourself', Dil?"
"I thought it was, `done something right'."
"Since the accident I haven't met with any guys. Okay, Dash did offer, but I thought it too kinky to have my own brother jerk me off."
Dil's stroking action reduced to only holding Peter's firmed up shaft.
"So, I did it for myself. But it's not the same as...."
Doing a pushup, on his own strength, Peter pressed his hands against the floor, elevating his body to the point of revealing Dil's handheld device.
"Me doing it?"
Like in the hotel lobby, as he watched Dil run to help his brother and friends, Peter made a warm connection. Now, with Dil immobile, pinned under him, he had him under his physical power of inescape.
"I... I don't know what you're feeling right now Dil, but... well...."
Peter let his actions speak for him. Settling his bod down on the twenty-two year old's one hundred and eighty-two pound frame, his lips fell, as if in a perfect molding of their bodies, making contact. After he sensed Dil's exceptance, arms moving about, Dil's hand pulling from the pressure of their building crotches, to around his own bod, Peter moved his arms up and under Dil's shirt.
After about three minutes, Dil iniated the break, asking, "How about that swim?"
"Yeah, I think I need it."
Indeed Peter did need to get out of his sweat-soaked shirt. Instead of worrying about getting him up on the bed, Dil rocked him over onto his back. Now calling the shots, he proceeded to unbutton the light blue, patterned shirt.
"When you sweat, you sweat!" Dil commented, unfastening the darker area of the front of Peter's shirt, along the buttons.
"You made me hot."
Looking down his own front, Dil admits, "Looks like that makes two of us."
Being playful, Peter tries to point out, "I think that's probably my sweat soaking into your shirt."
"No," Dil stops the unbuttoning of Peter's shirt, getting to his beltline. Pulling his shirt away, at the collar, looking down between the fabric and his flesh, "my chest is pretty much sweated up too."
"Let me see," Peter says, smiling.
Doing likewise, he reaches up and begins unbuttoning Dil's shirt. First pulling him forward a little, he pushes the cotton shirt back over Dil's shoulders. Dil let's it fall behind him.
"Beautiful!" Peter calls out, rubbing his hand across the blond, fuzzy pecs.
"Ooooooooh!"
"Hee heee.... sensitive there, are we?"
"I guess."
Kneeling above Peter, Dil has lost all control over his the area below his belt, as Peter now resorts to firming up the tidbits of his pecs. His head drops backwards, as the tent in his pants points towards Peter's zipper.
"Ooooooooooooooooooooh!"
"Cool! I now know two of your weak spots!"
As if a slave surrendering, on his knees, Dil's arms stretch out behind his back allowing his shirt to fall from his wrists. His posture makes his pecs protrude even further, making them totally accessible for Peter's soft hand-probings. After awhile, Dil moves Peter's hands away, but instead changes the manner of massaging his rigid nips. Leaning down, stretching his taut abs out, his left pec becomes centered over Peter's face. Taking the hint, Peter sticks his tongue out, touching the tender treat. Immeditately, he senses Dil's excitement. Through both zipper areas, Peter feels his own cock and balls massaged.
"Ooooooooooooooh!" Peter sighs, his hot breath blowing out of his mouth onto Dil's chest.
As with the domino effect theory, one turn on is heightening the other, building up to the apex of each other's impending orgasm.
"Dil?"
"Am I hurting you?"
Dil's first worry is the grinding action, coupled with his weight bearing down on Peter, might be too intense. It is, but not in the way he's thinking.
"Not in the least, Dil... oh man.. I wish I could.... could..."
As if reading his mind, Dil replies, "I wish I could, too."
"Okay," Peter replies, on the same plane, "but I'll need help to the bed."
Not only does Dil, with profound agility, help Peter up, but effortlessly removes his shirt, unbuckles his pants, drives them to his ankles, like clockwork, takes off his sneakers, without untying them, peels the jock socks, then strips his pants from around his ankles. With Peter on the bed, dressed on only his briefs, Dil unbuckles his own pants.
"Oh hurry... please?"
"It's been a long time, has it?" Dil states, kicking his sneakers off as he drops his pants from one leg.
"Too long. Oh fuck! I can't believe this is happening to me."
Tears fill Peter's eyes.
"Can't believe what?" Dil says, now void of all clothing.
Climbing on the bed, he firms the pillow under Peter's head, wiping a tear with the other hand.
"I figured when I wound up in that wheelchair that my life was over."
Taking Peter's words into consideration, Dil had to think quick. His mind drew back to his own words of several hours ago, about the `pact' they made. Being sensitive, he couldn't rightly go ahead with what corresponded now between the two and ever want to inform Peter of the possibility that they didn't hit it off. His mind threw this out, as the reality of what could occur, but for now, all Dil wanted to do is make Peter his. Anything else that came with the territory, he would think about later and learn to live with it.
"I bet it took a lot to put those thoughts aside, Peter."
"Yeah. In fact, I think being the way I was took a tougher toll on Dash, than me, damn it!"
"Now stop that, Peter. Dash wouldn't have stuck by you, if he didn't love you."
Then, looking into Dil's eyes, Peter asks, "Like you're helping me now?"
Dil couldn't discount his feelings at the moment. Maybe not a true, deep love instilled him at this time, but he wanted to saturate himself with Peter's whole being, become a part of him. He thought about Dash and about the love he must have for Peter. Dil wanted to experience the same.. even more.
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To Be Continued.....
Copyright 2006 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold or made part of any collection without prior written permission.