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.
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CoMPany payLoaD 25 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"Isn't that sweet?"
"What is?" Hewy comments, switching his head around to the back seat of the car.
"Our little runaway hiker-boy is catching up on sleep?"
From their conversation, when Eamon was wide awake, Hewy says, "It took a lot of guts for him to run away."
"True, but given a choice of going on the run or living with homophobic relatives, I'd say he took the right route," Nolan agrees.
"By the way, I meant to tell you," Hewy says, turned back around to the windshield.
"What?"
"You should have dabbed yourself off with a paper towel before leaving the club?"
Nolan couldn't agree more, but rather savored the stench from being the cum-dump for the night. In response to Hewy's caring statement, he says as a hand planes against his chest, soaking up the last remnants of the cum shots disposed of onto his bod, "I'm going to keep this shirt out of the wash and save it for posterity!"
A learned man, Hewy reacts, "Oh, are we saving things for when `Junior' comes along?"
Smiling, Nolan replies, "I was wondering why I was craving chocolate and pickles!"
"I only fucked you two or three times. How can you be sure I'm the daddy?"
Looking beyond the fuck-factor, Nolan says, "I bet you would make a good daddy too!"
Relaxing in his seat, maybe not ready for a tiny child, Hewy says, "I think Eamon could use some grounded, parental guidance?"
"If that's the case," Nolan exclaims, "then think of it... Eamon came on his daddy's chest tonight!"
Out of it, after saying it, Nolan figured, as with himself, Hewy thinking of Eamon as a very likable guy.
The same registering, Hewy amends, "Maybe brothers then?"
They both settled on brotherly, about the same moment Nolan makes a sharp turn into the driveway. Before he can even engage the control to the gate, the car is swarmed by uniformed men.
Nolan suggests, "I hope you have your green card with you?"
Hewy too watching the surrounding men out his window, "I'm an American citizen!"
"Oh," Nolan replies, "you learn something new everyday. Do you think they want me to unlock the doors?"
Looking official, some government seal patched on the sleeve of their shirts, as well as their baseball caps, Hewy says, "I think it is why they are pointing to the corner of the door, yes?"
In a snap, all four door pins were popping above the ledges of the doors.
Raising his head up from a slumber position, Eamon's yawn gave way to, "Who are these dudes?" Putting two and two together, he says, "No! Don't let them take me back!"
However, to Eamon's delight, the security force was not there on `his' behalf. Asking Nolan to vacate the driver's seat, he was stuffed in the back with Eamon, another officer on Eamon's right side.
"Somebody want to enlighten us?" Nolan demands with official disposition.
Instead of fear, Eamon smiled, with the crammed status of the back seat, arm squashed so against the navy blue suit, it felt almost like feeling flesh. He also noticed, even though the dude, who just now introduced himself as Lt. Patrick Riley, seemed `young'. Licking his lips, thinking of the prospect of what lay under the shirt, a preview of the chest fur in a v-shape, Eamon pressed himself into silent, investigative service. As the two converse, Eamon inconspicuously pushes his flat hand between thighs, seeing if he can pick up any vibrations!
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James coming down the stairway from the plane, his attention was focused on finding only one face in the crowd.
Tom and Tony, bracing James on either side, could not contain him, when he lay eyes on Laurent.
Rushing, ahead of security, James on the rebound, Laurent says to his lover, "You're a sight for sore eyes!"
James replies, "I think my balls are sorer than your eyes!"
He was amazed by Laurent's unsurprising words, "I know."
"You know?" Tom asks.
Tony, understanding how thinks can work out, replies, "If I'm not mistaken, Stefano wasn't the only one with visual contact to Hans and Jaco working you over?"
Laurent, smiling, says, "I'm sorry you had to go through all this, my love!"
James now cowered over Laurent's shoulder, show a bit of humor in the whole ordeal, "Let me guess. You wished you were in my place?"
Whimsically, Laurent says, "When we get to the farm you can show me how it all unfolded! My screen was a little blurred."
Tom says, with hidden emotion, "Your uncle is really sick, you know, Tony?"
"I know," Tony replies and with a grin, "maybe I can get in on the action!"
Not meant to taddle, not that it mattered or leaned this way any longer, Laurent and Tony already keyed into Tom and James' boyhood `fun and games', Tom says, "Did I ever tell you what I did to James' balls?"
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Good fortune, Nolan not in the driver's seat, when Lt. Riley began to explain the unfolding of his father's plan to bring down the Harrellsson empire on US soil.
Listening to Patrick tell of his father's plans for him, Nolan, who held respect or love for his father, rages on, speaking for every son who had a father, "He would do this to his own son?"
Hewy, quiet for the most part, turns a head towards the back seat and says, "I have no respect for the animal!"
Eamon was paying attention, and with no disrespect intended, still checked out the lieutenant, noticing especially the fourth finger of his left hand. It matched all the rest of his fingers, which made him smile. Still though, the hot looking lieutenant, `could' have a girlfriend, which made him switch to an uneasy feeling of light despair.
As for the lieutenant, he split his attention in thirds, drawn to Hewy, who interjected food for thought, mostly in the negative, against what Nolan was going up against, Nolan himself and thirdly, the arm and hand pressing against his left side. Obviously, a necessity towards fitting the tight compartment of the vehicle with three men across, the middle passenger had to be sandwiched in. He wondered about the language of having a hand separate thighs. Several times, Patrick leaned forwards, in apparent move to connect eyes with Nolan, but glanced towards Eamon, like he was addressing him for questioning. He could have sworn, a couple of times, the hand moved, scraping knuckles against the thigh of his pants. When all was said and done, Hewy and Nolan conferring about the whole plot going down, at least foiled on the other end by a conniving, money-hungry individual, Patrick could more or less relax, his part of the job complete.
"So, what's your story?"
"My story?" Eamon questions, after feeling some jolts of electricity shoot up his arm, the government office bouncing the palm of his hand off his, stationed at his side.
"Yes. We have a profile on Mr. Harrellsson, a sketchy detailing of his friend," not `boyfriend', "but it seems you came into the picture, without a clue to who you are. Can we start with a name?"
Eamon senses something, the `interrogation' starting off with a friendly smile, him offering, "Eamon Riley. I know you're Lieutenant Kiley."
Chancing it, Patrick places his hand on Eamon's right thigh, saying, "My friends call me Patrick."
The gesture, Nolan picks up on it, signals Hewy with his eyes, then shifts them to his right, drawing analogy to Patrick's `touching'.
Nervous, Eamon asks, "Kiley, that's Irish, right?"
"Not any less than Riley!"
By this time, Eamon took his own gander, placing his hand over Patrick's and rubbing it as he asks, "I suppose this finger would not be bandless, if there was a Mrs. Kiley?"
Sliding his hand further towards Eamon's inner leg, Patrick replies, "If there was, I'm sure she would be mighty jealous, besides, I'm only eighteen, too young to get serious about stuff like that."
The dude behind the wheel, not missing a bit of the soap opera, brakes, then turns around and says, "Why don't you two quit the bullshit? Pat, fucking kiss him before he slips through your fingers?"
"Oh?" Nolan questions the driver, "And how would you have a sense of things like this?"
Hewy, more demanding, plays on the security dude's words, "Why don't you cut the bullshit?"
"Y'know," he replies, more congenial, "I think I'm going to like getting to know you two guys."
"Get to know us?" Nolan asks.
Patrick was too busy, the driver offering a hand over the seat to Nolan, "Vince Portobello. I'm your new escort for the next few days. I'll be accompanying you everywhere you and," as Patrick didn't put it, "boyfriend over the next week or so, until they've gotten things wrapped up."
Hewy, kind of liking Vince, as a friend, asks, "Does that include the shower?"
Joking, Vince says, "Of course. I gotta make sure there's nobody between your legs, except me!"
"Uh, Vince?" Nolan interrupts.
"What?"
"I hope you're meaning on your knees, with your mouth open?"
In the affirmative, Vince also offers, "My tongue up his ass, with your permission?"
Thinking Vince could be quite the hot playmate, Nolan probes, "I suppose if you ask nicely, Hewy might let you?"
Patrick, getting his dig in, interrupts his conversation with Eamon, to say, "Cuff his hands behind his back and make'm. It'll keep you nice and hard, huh Vince?"
Switching his head back and forth like a beach volleyball match, Vince replies, "You guys into kinky stuff?"
Hewy replies boldly, "I think I might be able to `whip' you into shape, Vince!"
"Hot fuckin' diggity!" Vince shouts with exclamation.
Eamon fronts the question, "Uh, Nolan, what is it you guys are talking about?" Although he wasn't without clue, the use of the word `kinky'.
Temporarily parked on the side street, Nolan passes the buck, "Patrick seems to have an idea. Ask him." In another direction, "So, Vince are we going to sit here on the curb all night?"
"Where to boss?" Vince asks Patrick.
"Airport. Pronto!"
"I don't have my passport with me," Nolan says, a good directive, leading to whether they were flying out of the country, or staying put within US boundaries.
Vince roars with laughter, after offering, "A passport never stopped Patrick!"
"Of course," Eamon guesses, "working for the government you can do most anything, right?"
Fast-falling for Eamon, Patrick says, "Right. I can even arrange it for some poor guy to have a good credit rating!"
Nolan thought the same thing, only hours earlier. A CEO could work wonders for anyone in the business world. In no time he would have Eamon sitting on top of some good credit ratings, what with a BWM bought on time and paid off in four months, not that Nolan couldn't afford a cash sale. He loved helping dudes in Eamon's position, but as Nolan ceded, he was slowly losing all his good plans to Patrick!
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"Tom, Tony and me in slavery to some Arab dude?" James returns Laurent's volley.
"You three and not which you would care, Hans, Jaco and the two pilots. Yep, Stefano was quite the wheeler-dealer, except for one flaw?"
As the three sat around a table in the small Italian airport, James asks, "Is what?"
"Greed, gentlemen. He had a buyout plan for everything, right down to Nolan's old man. Nine slaves would have bought Stefano some early retirement and if it all went down, he could have spent the rest of his life holed up in Giuseppe's villa."
Tom jokes, "My only regret is I didn't get to play with Tony in the dungeon!"
James replies to his bro, "Don't worry Tom. Laurent says the barn used to be a rich mogul's recording studio. Soundproof?"
"Recording studio? Cool?" Tom says with excitement. "I could cut a demo!"
Tony mocks, "Make some demo CD's for Hallowe'en, featuring `my' screams!" He laughs about the pain.
"You're making me hard Tony!"
"Cool!" Tony says to Tom.
Of course it was all crazy talk, but in their own minds, Tom and Tony were already thinking up some hot bdsm stuff.
"There really are some horses though, right?"
Looking into James' eyes, Laurent could tell he wasn't all about roleplay. Too, as he's already experienced, James could be quite the talent at some soft, sensual lovemaking.
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"You call this an airport?" Nolan asks.
Sure, Nolan has on most occasions, taken advantage of the executive lounges of various fly in and fly out points, but nothing rivaled `this' airport.
Vince replies, as he loosens his tie, "Private club. You gentlemen can drop your draws anytime you feel the mood calling!"
"Uh Vince?"
"Yes, sir?" he follows up with a glum attitude towards Patrick.
"Want to take your mind out of the gutter for a moment and think about tidying up on the paperwork?"
Eamon learned on his own volition, Patrick being a superior officer towards whatever Vince's rank. However, coupling the idea of Vince being on his knees, his wrists cuffed behind his back, he wondered if the professional overflowed into the personal side or their lives.
Eamon kind of got Vince off the hook, saying, "You don't need to do paperwork too, do you Patrick?"
Nolan, nodding his head to Hewy, meant to gravitate him towards Vince, prods, "Of course you don't, Patrick and neither does Vince. You can leave all those nasty little details to tomorrow?"
Hewy picked right up on it, walking over to Vince and regardless of Patrick's power over the thirty-four year old, says demonstratively, "Why don't we see what we have to work with?"
"Hot diggity!" Vince seemed to override any directive from Patrick, as if he wasn't standing there, never gave any order.
He had picked the phrase up from the `Bear Lair' one night, watching from a distance, the first time Hewy saw a guy being stripped at the door by a master. This one being Geoff Sahin!
"Now you're talkin'!" Turning to Patrick, "That is, if it's all right with you sir?"
"C'mon," he took Eamon by the shirt sleeve, "I'm placing you under arrest!"
Concluding with a smile, Eamon knew he wasn't in any real danger, but voices his honest opinion, "Really? I thought maybe it could be the other way around?"
He was getting his feet wet, whereas for Patrick, he was a seasoned player. Depending on the guy, Patrick could let the wind take him in either direction. Showing Eamon a fair player, says, "Does this mean you're going to interrogate me?"
He's seen movies, soldier boys stripped down, chained heroes refusing to rat on their country, while their aggressors tortured the hell out of them. Fresh on the subject, Eamon replies, "I could try, but I won't be good at it?"
Patrick replies with renewed emotion, a hot, young, new master, his mind and bod for the breaking, his crotch filling up fast with emotion, "Everybody's got to start some place!"
Meanwhile, Hewy had followed through on what he saw at the club, Geoff Sahin taking the business dude's shirt in his hand, tearing it right down the middle, button's flying in all directions, with not a care in the world.
Nolan thought Vince took it quite well, especially the cooing sounds, Hewy feeling up all the bear fur!
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"So, what devious plans do you have for us next, Laurent?"
Sharing the responsibility, Tony informs them, "Unfortunately, we do not have information regarding the third party involvement just yet."
"But we will," Laurent implants in their minds, more a plan to alleviate any stress.
"Third party?" Tom asks, then gets it, "Oh, you mean Stefano's contact?"
Tony sums up, "Hey, you know you would be good in government security, Tom?" he pats his boyfriend on the back.
Smirking, James asks, "Yeah right. They wouldn't happen to have any openings in the `interrogation' unit?"
The brothers exchanged smiles, each knowing it was a joke, in reality Tom knowing he would be good at it, though he wasn't really into anything hardcore, explaining, "I don't think I could get into waterboarding or anything like that. I'm not into killing guys."
Tony jokes, "Yeah, only into maiming them!" His hand toys with his crotch.
Tom, on the defensive asks, "Name one time I maimed you?"
"Can't think of one," Tony replies in a jovial manner, "but I loved what you did to my balls!"
Laurent clears his throat, "Gentlemen, can we get serious?"
"I thought they `were' being serious," James replies. "So, what's next?" he leads Laurent like a witness.
"For the next month or so, we will be spending time at the ranch."
Tom pipes up, "I thought that's the plan you had for James and me?" Faulting, he includes, "And Tony?"
"Same ranch," Laurent replies in the affirmative, "except for the next month or so, you will be `sharing' it."
Tony jumps in, this time with more sincerity, "Unfortunately, because of the sensitive nature of the unknown, regarding the `third party', we all will be incarcerated there with some of the others involved in the caper."
Laurent goes on to name names, "The younger Mr. Harrellsson and Demont, plus those who have close personal relationship with or to them."
James asks, "Is there enough room for everybody?"
Tony replies, "As already mentioned, before it was a full working ranch, it was a recording studio, but before they ripped tunes, the government used it as a boot camp. Later on, the barracks were converted into small cottages. Even though we will number under fifty, the cottages could accommodate up to two hundred."
Tom jokes, "And the dungeon?"
Countering Tom's wiseass joke, Tony replies on an enlightened note, "None, but they still have some of the apparatus left up from the boot camp?"
He was enticing Tom, him taking the bait, "Oh cool! Maybe we should test it out to see if it's still in working order?"
Laurent, not a stranger to the passing history of the ranch, looks into James eyes, smiles, says, "Would love to waddle around in the mud pit with you, James!"
It was time to go, a dude coming in to alert them to a gassed up lear jet, the quartet making their way from the hangar.
Tony, already feeling the pangs of settling down on the ranch, quips to Tom, "You're gonna love all the stuff you can do to me!"
"Counting on it!" Tom replies.
For the first time since they had formed a relationship, it left Tony dumbfounded, the uninhibited kiss on his cheek, him frozen, a hand to his face, making sure it was real. "Wow!" he answers himself about the doubt of it happening. He felt all warm inside and it wasn't for the fact his mind had been on some hot bdsm!
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Across the sea, about the same scenario was taking place. Even unaware of the way things can change in the twinkling of an eye, Vince had to make the best of fastening the front of his shirt back together, mainly his tie keeping it all intact, the band rushing out of the lounge and onto the tarmac.
"And just as I was getting hard!"
Nolan jokes, "Don't worry Vince. I'll make sure you get what's coming to you!"
"I like it rough. Is he capable?"
That Nolan didn't have a clue. Sure, he experienced a flogging, but at the time he equated it to something which Vince could find quite pleasurable. Other than the few minutes of the flogger crossing his blades, he frankly had to admit, "I'm not sure. We didn't get that far."
Meeting them at the plane, it reminded Vince of their playtime, him saying of it, "Patrick can be a real hot bastard. Not afraid to beat a guy up."
"Oh really?" Nolan asks out of consideration, "Then I'm not so sure Eamon and he will click."
"No, no, no, Nolan. You got me wrong. I meant roleplaying. In real life, Patrick is a compassionate romantic, but when we get together for some rough stuff, he can really pour it on."
If he didn't experience the short episode with Geoff Sahin, probably Nolan would still be on his guard, however, "I understand now." He relaxed, concerning Eamon.
Entering the plane, it was a concern of Hewy, complaining, "All I have is my tee shirt and jeans," pulling the tee shirt away from his pecs and letting snap back.
"Not a problem," Vince replies. "It's only us and the pilots!"
Proving his point, Vince picked up where he left off in the lounge and soon Hewy and Nolan faced the hairy bear, going next for his belt buckle. "Come on guys. Don't be shy!"
As Nolan loosened the tie he still had on from this morning, Hewy took the tails of his tee shirt in two hands and tore it off overhead.
"Oh! Beautiful!" Vince, waddling with his pants down over to Hewy, "Yummy!" he says of the dark hair midchest, lightly covered pecs, flat nubs, "I'm like so-o hungry for these!"
His hand getting slapped away, Hewy barks, "Did I say you could touch me?"
Nolan laughs his ass off, watching the dialogue, Vince, his jaw dropped, after being reprimanded for his grubby fingers ready to tweak Hewy's nips.
"Can I touch?"
Nolan, finding a bar on board, goes about fixing himself a drink, even though he knew, "Such manners, Vince! You'll never get anything `that' way!"
Vince, having already told about himself and how rough he could take it, Hewy remembers something he saw Georg do, regarding the same question.
As Vince howls in pain, Nolan says, "Oh shit!" after Hewy had lifted his foot up right between Vince's legs.
Walking over to Vince, Nolan asks, "Want a drink?"
Vince replies, as he sits on his knees, both hands cuddling his goods, "I think I need some new balls!"
"Phooey, Vince! From how you talk, I bet that was a little `tap.'"
Vince claims, "You're as much a sadist as `he' is!"
Hewy knew this was all a sham, but had the curiosity to see how far he could take it, in other words, how much Vince could take. Walking over to him, he roughly says, "I don't fuckin' like the way you talk to my boyfriend."
"Oh," Vince switches his head to his left, looking at Hewy. "Was I rude?"
Cupping his hand to the side of his mouth, even Nolan knew, "You're supposed to say, `sir'!"
"Too late!" Hewy replies. "Stand, boy!"
Nolan was impressed. With him, Hewy was much more subdued. Addressing Vince, more a stranger, he was more the `real mccoy', much something of the character sketch Geoff could be.
Vince stands.
Reaching down, because his pants were still at his ankles, Hewy grabs Vince's belt buckle and whips the belt out of the loops.
Nolan could see it, sure Hewy picked up on it too, Vince's briefs tenting and because they were white, it was easy to detect the round circle, a small circumference of leakage!
"Bend over and assume the position boy!"
Hey!' Nolan recalled, wasn't it same way Georg addressed his slaveboy, right before the leather strap connected with ass?'
"I think I'm gonna fall over," Vince said.
No matter. Since Vince had already divulged he could take it rough, Hewy wasn't the least hesitant, bringing the doubled back way behind himself and heaving with all his might against Vince's white-clothed butt.
"Ow-oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-ooh!" Vince jumped away, jumped and jumped and jumped, like a Mexican jumping bean, holding his ass-on-fire, after howling like a banshee!
Obvious, Nolan says, "Sure. You can take a lot Vince!"
He laughed.
Hewy found it humorous.
Even Vince, who complained of the effects of the strap, pulling his briefs down, exposing the indelible red line painted across his ass cheeks, said, "Okay! I confess!"
"So much for Chained Heroes!" Nolan replies.
"Huh?" Hewy asks, not having knowledge of what is shared between Nolan and Vince.
"Yeah, aren't they fuckin' hot?" Vince replies to Nolan.
"So much, we all have the tendency to be wannabees, huh Vince?"
Vince, recalling the `Chained Heroes' series, replies, "Damn, I'd like to be able to take a heavy gut punch or whipping."
Casually, Nolan replies, "Careful what you wish for Vince!"
Hewy stood, taking in the conversation. At a later date he would have to look up theses movies. For now he asks, "How about a drink?"
The three stripped down to nothingness, but ten minutes before takeoff, the pilots arrived, finding their way through the plane to the cockpit!
One was void of interest, marching right towards the front of the jet. The other, smiled to the point of a toothy grin, acknowledging the naked passengers, "Gentlemen?"
Nolan reading the jets `propeller' like a book, suggests, "Let us know when you go on auto-pilot, captain!"
It made him wiggle his eyebrows, a signal to show Nolan was coming in loud and clear.
Thinking the plane was ready to lift off, a commotion towards the entrance cut out of the side of the plane, he views a familiar face, "Demont?"
"What is this about Nolan? What did you do?"
"Me?" Nolan asks, looking around, because everybody suddenly drew their attention on the CEO. "Nothing! Didn't they explain...."
"Nobody explain nothing to me," Demont looked outraged. "Me and my boy are lying in bed and suddenly!" he pauses, "These men have to ruin a..." and because he was' having a good fuckin' time', "good fuckin' time!" Even though, he just has to pop the question, "Where's the co-pilot?"
Even though aroused out of a perfectly good sexual encounter with the attendant pumping gas, on his way home from the Harrellsson building last night, an affair which carried him and his twenty-six year old `trick' over into the next day, viewing the co-pilot board the same plane, ahead of him, gave Demont temporary amnesia.
Nolan replies, "Um, flying the plane?"
"After he's done, we are going to have some words!"
Hewy speaks up, "You mean the captain or co-pilot?"
Describing, Demont id's the dude, "Tall, wide-shouldered, swimmers build, cropped beard, shades?"
Nolan butts in, "Co-pilot. Not the captain and as we already know, the captain swings in our favor, but the co-pilot, you're out of luck Demont. He's straight."
They all laughed, Demont carrying on, "So? What does that have to do with anything?"
"That's Demont!" Nolan gave up.
Placing a bag in the overhead, Demont took a seat. An onboard movie didn't stir his interest, but rather thoughts of `his' co-pilot and how, after the flight was grounded, he would be turning straight-boy into a gay man!
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On the flight out of Europe, the cabin divided up into groups of three. Tony and Tom sat in the back of the small jet, Laurent and James heading up front.
In the middle, to the left side, sat agent Justin Kincade. With all the hassle of the flight out, turned around, landing, then waiting around, everyone was pretty well conked out. Next to Tom, Tony had dozed off, towards the window. He could see in front of him, eight rows up, Laurent and James, their heads bobbing up and down, till they didn't move any longer. As for agent Kincade, their chaperone to the unknown destination in the `States', he was much like the others.
`Some protector!' Tom thought.
Backing up to ten minutes before lift off, when he had entered, introduced himself, saying he would be on for the duration of the trip and if any of them had further questions, could direct them to him, well right now, it hit Tom. He had questions. Too, when Agent Kincade had boarded, walking past him and parking his `lovely' ass on the right side of the plane, he had wondered about what else made up Agent Kincade's physique. Never in his life had he ever admitted to having gardar, but something irked him on about the protectorate and because of it, he could not settle down to rest in peace.
"Hey, you sleeping?"
Kincade was on the verge, but picked his head up and lied, "Nope. What's on your mind?" He picked up his briefcase, volleying it over his lap and into the seat next to him.
Concluding it an invitation to have a seat, Tom sat, saying, "You made mention, if anybody had any questions and I have a few."
"Fire away!" Agent Kincade replied confidently.
To break the ice, Tom asks, "Is it alright if I call you Justin?"
"Sure. All right if I call you `Tom', Tom?" he laughs.
"Maybe," Tom replies, a certain something on his mind.
"Huh?"
"Never mind. You can call me Tom."
"Okay. So. What else is on your mind, Tom?"
He wanted to ask, `How big is your cock,' but put it off, "You have a nice build. You workout?"
"Sure do, but much of building up of this bod comes from working on the farm."
"Farm?" Tom questions, thinking he's made a breakthrough regarding the destination of the plane.
"You'll have to wait to hear the rest of that part of my life."
"Got lots of muscles?"
"I'm not one to boast, but I can make a nice sized bicep pop."
It was leading Tom right where he wanted to go, "Can I see it?"
"Can you see it?" Justin says, not sure, because in order to show off his bulging biceps, he would have to stand, remove his jacket, the tie, shirt... "Uh, maybe some other time."
Tom had a gift to be persuasive and wasn't giving up on Justin just yet, "Oh come on. Laurent and my brother are asleep up front, Tony's conked out in the back. It's just you and me."
"I don't know," Justin bit his lip.
Raising the stakes, Tom stands, grabs the tails of his tee shirt and tears it up overhead, saying, "I'll go first!"
He knew then, Justin's eyes perusing his bod as if ten guys had shot their load over his bod, his looker with an unquenchable thirst.
"Nice," Justin replies, then amends, "I mean... You go to the gym too?"
Not unless he had followed some hot guy in from the curb, did Tom set foot inside a gym, but rather carrying on with dramatics, "Now I get to see your biceps?"
"Um, uh..."
According to Tom, Justin wasn't moving too fast, or else he was shy, or changing his mind altogether. Not allowing that to happen, Tom bends slightly at the waist, takes Justin's tie in his hands, saying, "Here, let me help!"
His head shot down to his chest, but as Tom began to dismantle his neck tie, he looked up. There he was met by Tom's eyes and a wry smile. Justin then summed up the pretending was over!
"I have a confession to make?" he said as Tom rips the tie out from behind Justin's collar.
"Just pretend I'm your friendly priest!"
He thought it funny, but Tom's bod was on his mind, confessing, "I think your bod is very hot!"
Rather than thinking he was invading Justin's privacy, Tom went right to unfastening the button at the collar and finding his way down the dress shirt.
"I know!" Tom quips.
"You know?" Justin knew Tom knew!
Dividing Justin's shirt, Tom laughs, saying, "While we're both in confessional, I'm not really interested in how big your biceps are, Justin. These are nice, though!"
"Ooo-o-o-ooh!" Justin sighs, drawing a heft of air in.
"Sensitive, are we?" Tom says, his thumbs wreaking havoc on Justin's mighty, meaty pecs.
"Baby, their yours!" Justin exclaims, again drawing in air from the tantalizing touch of thumbs to his nips.
"You don't have to call me baby'. Sir' will do!"
Increasing the feel up to mashing, Justin replies, "Yes-s-s-s-sir!"
He stops.
"What'd you stop for?"
Sitting next to Justin, Tom finds the entrances to his shirt, putting it back on as, inquiring, "Where else are you sensitive?"
"Can you keep a secret?"
"About you being gay?" Tom hints.
"Okay, I'm gay and I've read your file, know you are too."
Realizing the implications, Tom says, "So, I guess you know I like to play with more than nips?"
From a personal perspective, rather than generalize, Justin reports, "I could get in to having my nut-sacks knocked around, a nice flogger on my back or chest."
"And nips?"
"Like I said..."
Recalling, Tom asks, "Anything?"
"Nothing too harsh. Clamps, croc clips, pliers, hot wax, a cropper."
"Not too harsh?" Tom laughs.
Skipping over it, Justin doesn't leave out, "And I know this sounds weird, but I like stuff done to my navel."
"Like?"
"As you already know, I work out at the gym. I once had a buddy stand me up against a punching bag and sharpen up on his fight club skills!"
"But that's your stomach. Not your..."
"I know. I was getting to that."
As Justin was about to tell about some weird things done to his bellyhole, turbulence rocked the plane. It's then he notices himself almost `out of uniform', buttoning up at least.
A voice comes over the speaker, "Only slight weather conditions. Fasten your seat belts as a precaution."
It had jarred the others awake. Tom thought he should report back to Tony.
Left all to himself, Justin fastened his seatbelt, his mind wandering right back to where he left off with Tom. He licked his lips, wanting to taste some hot treatment he knew Tom could give him!
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Copyright 2011 T. Chase McPhee
`CoMPany payLoaD' may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.