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, in towns, cities, countries, nor governmental areas, 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. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection.
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MAY Madness 03 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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A knock at his bedroom door, Kevin called out, "J-C?" alerting him to sudden awakeness.
His hand quickly releasing his cock, the dried cum made him aware he had been dozing for at least an hour. "What time is it?" he asked himself, answering, looking over to the night table, seeing it was going on three in the afternoon.
"J-C? You alright?"
Jumping into action, Jean-Claude did a hasty cover up, grabbing his briefs and tee shirt. Both hid the residual of his early afternoon orgasm, briefs hiding the dried paste mucking up his pubes, the tee hiding his long-range shooting session, which landed here and there above his bellyhole. "Coming!" He called out as he smoothed his tee shirt over pecs and abs with both hands, then hands doing a quick `brush and comb out' of his mane.
"So, what's up?" He asks after opening the door, posing like a model, one arm extended to the top of the door frame, the other rubbing his stomach.
"Emre and me... we thought we would take a walk around the neighborhood. Want to come?"
He smiled. Inside his mind he was thinking he already came'. Facing up to reality, he responded, "I'd love to, but somebody's gotta think about dinner." Really Jean-Claude wanted to stick around in case he got the return call'.
"Fine. Any suggestions on which way to head?"
Smiling, Jean-Claude says, "The ocean of course. It can get quite empty at this time of the day and if you stick around long, as the sun sets it makes a nice backdrop for a little romance."
Emre thinks ahead, "What time do you want us back for dinner?"
"Back for dinner? Don't even worry about it. In fact..." he drops his arm and heads for his dresser. Returning with his wallet, he unfolds it and lifts some bills from it, "after the sun goes down, why don't you two take in a nice cozy restaurant," he peels two fifties from the other bills, then another two fifties, "then when it gets around nine, and you feel like you're full," he parts with some more green, "well, around that time `Paradise' starts to get into full swing!"
Holding a wad of fifties and then some, Kevin deduces, "I feel like we're getting paid off."
"What makes you ever think that, Kev?"
Emre remains silent, allowing Kevin to do his bidding.
"First night back? All of us together? I would think you would want to spend the evening with us?"
It's one part, in a selfish respect, escaped Jean-Claude's mind, so high wire strung up on hearing back from Mike Knight. Feeling a bit guilty he replies, "I could go out with you and Emre?"
Leaving the option up to Kevin, he definitely had the feeling J-C might be expecting `company' later on. He then looked upon himself and Emre taking some time to explore as a godsend for their host. "Y'know J-C?"
"What?" he sandwiched in a quick reply.
"I'm sure Emre agrees..."
"I do," Emre agreed even though he didn't know what he was agreeing on, taking Kevin's word for it.
"Your idea of a romantic evening out and then some partying, sounds like a great plan." And then as they bid farewell, "Thanks for the loot!"
Excited to say the least, Jean-Claude hits them back with, "And don't come home till after midnight!"
Inside, door closed, his back was plastered up against it, Jean-Claude taking a deep breather. Looking at the small metallic clock in the foyer, he said out loud, "3:20. He `should' be calling soon I would think." He already knew Mike got off the job at six and sometime between then and now he expected get a return on the message he left.
His next immediate thought was, "Got to get in the shower!"
By the time he got upstairs his shirt was off and sagging over his shoulder. Trying to step out of his briefs as he walked the hallway, his quick reflexes grabbed the shirt from falling over his shoulder, but he almost tripped on the elastic waistband!
In the jon he eyed himself up in the mirror, something he did either upon entering or exiting. This time, which wasn't the only time, he felt up his stomach, his hand picking up on the dried cum. Allowing it to plane downwards, he felt the same crustiness. In all his excitement, Jean-Claude burst out with comment, "It was such a good fuck Mike!" Then he amended his comment, aware it was only in a fantasy state, "At least it felt like it!"
With that out of the way, Jean-Claude proceeded to wipe away the physical remainders of his hot afternoon orgasm, allowing the memories to linger as he doused his head under the showerhead.
"Holy smokes!" he said to himself when he stepped out of the shower, toweled off, and in the buff, making exit to the adjoining master bedroom. Astonished was to say the least of the time on the clock. "Was I in there `that' long?" But then dismay began to take hold when Jean-Claude realizes it's 4:30. Given an hour and a half left to go before Mike Knight checks out of the police station, he was giving into doubt.
Then it happened! Rushing to the phone, Jean-Claude jumped to conclude, "Hello Mike?" His glee turned solemn, replying instead, "Oh, Kev. It's you." And then in response to Kevin's retort, "Oh no. Of course I'm glad to hear from you. What's up?" And after listening, "Thanks, maybe I will," he responded to Kev's cell-phone invitation, to take in the most glorious sunset forming over the ocean's horizon.
Hanging up and waiting around for five minutes, Jean-Claude got more fidgety. Finally he decided Mike was `never' going to call. Getting out of his bedroom easy chair, where he intended on parking his brief-clad ass until the phone rang, till hearing Mike Knight's voice on the line, he went to his dresser and opened the shirt draw. Resigning to the fact, instead of having a hot, bedded session with one of town's finest, he would take a walk down to the beach. Putting his arms in a tee shirt he glanced one last look at the clock, it reading 4:20. "Nah!" he replies to his own thoughts, thinking Mike's never going to make the call.
After pulling on a pair of shorts, Jean-Claude selected a pair of A&F treads out of the closet and headed downstairs. Grabbing his keys and baseball cap, he took one last glance at the foyer clock, with his hand on the doorknob. He hesitated, thinking maybe, with a little less than an hour and a half left, there would still be a chance. But now he was resigned to, if Mike calls, tough shit!
Walking outdoors, Jean-Claude inserted the key in the top lock, locked it and did the same to the lower one. He shut the screen door. Having problems with it, he neglected to call the super, wanting to have it fixed. Lately he was reminded, Kevin and Emre banging it shut on their way out.
As he turned the corner, facing the way to the ocean, out of the corner of his eye he spotted a police vehicle. Couldn't have been Mike,' he thought since there were two cops in the car. He continued on his way. Then, passing the cross street to Cookman Ave., another police car started towards him. Then he thought, Is this the same one?' Sure enough, as it pulled over to the curb, it was Mike Knight, but he didn't have any idea the identity of the second cop, sitting in the passenger side.
Placing it in park, Officer Knight got out, motioning for his partner to `c'mon'.
`Cute!' was the word Jean-Claude chose to describe the exiting police officer whom he didn't recognize.
All in one sentence, Mike tells, "I'm still on duty Jean-Claude. Sorry I didn't call. I have to pull a late shift tonight, but checkout Brendan here. See ya!" Knight didn't even make it to the sidewalk before reversing his course, rounding the front of the police cruiser, getting in the driver's seat and pulling away.
It was quite abrupt to say the least. There Jean-Claude was standing on the sidewalk with a police officer he didn't know anything about, except the name, `Brendan' and wondered if Brendan knew what this was all about.
Before he could approach him, Brendan walks towards Jean-Claude, hand extended and introduces himself, "Hi. As Mike mentioned, I'm Brendan. Brendan Okano."
"Jean-Claude Lomberiou," he extended his hand. Still grasping it, Jean-Claude more than guessed, "You're not with the Asbury Park police force, are you?"
His chin glued to his left shoulder, Brendan's left hand gathered a pinch of navy blue fabric in between his finger and thumb, pulling the emblem on his shoulder and explaining, "Uh, no. New Jersey State Trooper." He watched Jean-Claude as he read it for himself.
Feeling like a dodo after he said it, "Nice uniform," he amended his statement, "I mean you keep it nice and clean."
"Thanks, but it's a little musty from wearing it on the job all day."
Then looking down at them still holding hands, Jean-Claude comes up with the idea, "Nice night. I was just on my down to the ocean. Want to take a walk?" There was no sense in him trying to figure out where Mike Knight meant for this to go, so he pried, "So, you know Mike Knight I take it?"
"Right. We met at the Police Academy. It took us both all of ten minutes to figure out...." Brendan stuttered to a stop.
He knew what Brendan was holding back on, so he volunteered, "Oh by the way, did Mike tell you I'm gay?"
And smiling, turning a bit peekid, Brendan lets on, "I guess you can probably tell I am too?"
And then it all came together for Jean-Claude, the reason Mike Knight never bothered to phone him back. It was all too clear, the reason for Brendan being brought to the `scene of the crime'. "So, correct me if I'm wrong, Mike had to work tonight, so he asked his best friend to stand in for him?"
Brendan walked in silence, keeping Jean-Claude at bay for a few seconds.
"I'm right, aren't I?"
"The truth?"
"I'd prefer it."
"You're way off course, Jean-Claude."
"Oh," Jean-Claude replied, himself turning such a dark shade of red, regretting his hasty decision to ask something so directly.
Taking a few steps past Jean-Claude, Brendan halted, turned around and came back. "I'm sorry I was so blunt, but I'm sure you would want the truth?"
"Well sure," Jean-Claude was as upfront as Brendan. "One thing though?"
"What's that?" Brendan asks, giving his undivided attention.
"Can you sort of forget what I said and kind of block from your mind of how I just made a jackass out of myself?"
"Forgiven," Brendan replied. Then taking Jean-Claude's right hand in his left, "Now are you going to show me that beautiful sunset before it's gone?"
"Of course!" he agrees.
It wasn't taboo to see guys or girls walk around town holding hands. That's the evolutionary turn Asbury Park has taken since about twenty years ago, gay couples buying up real estate and turning the old into brand-spanking new. Slowly the town has been fading from it's drab downturn into a beautiful place to live and spend vacation time. Jean-Claude had no inhibitions about turning out for the Asbury Park Gay Pride Festival, nor eluded the question when asked if he were gay'; he just didn't offer it. However, the time he's been living here he hadn't found the opportunity, but once to hold a man's hand in public and the one time he did it was at Paradise'. He wasn`t overly conscious about it, but wondered about Brendan, still in uniform and grasping his hand.
When they slowed, Jean-Claude popped the question, "I was wondering Brendan?"
Brendan breathed naturally, Jean-Claude a little winded. "What`s that?" Brendan counters as he starts taking in the view of the end-of-day sun reflecting off the calm waves.
"You were holding my hand just now...."
"Oh sorry," he apologized, dropping it.
"No, it's okay," Jean-Claude replied, reclaiming it. "I was wondering, you being in uniform and everything, um...."
And before he could finish, Brendan's tears himself away from the setting sun to answer, "I'm out on the job, out anywhere I go. I don't offer it, but if somebody asks I'm not shy to say. How about you?"
"Same. Now you owe me another favor."
"Oh? How's that go?"
"Forgive me for stoopid question number two?"
"I don't think it was... no, not at all. I think when two people are starting something they should level with each other. Don't feel so guilty Jean-Claude." and then Brendan eludes to, "Hey, how about a hot dog?"
"Sure, but I pay!"
Not that he was broke, Brendan Okano coming from a fine family, whom wasn't hurting for cash by no means, but he had a good sense of balance when feeling out people. And he found Jean-Claude easy-going, which made it nice to be with him. "I suppose it's the least I could do!"
"Oh?"
"Well, I just met you and already you've asked two `stoopid' questions?"
Reaching the sand, who do they run into, but Kevin and Emre, retreating from the beach.
"Are you in trouble again J-C?" Kevin jokes.
"Me? In trouble? Oh no, I'm not the one always getting into trouble," he fires back at Kevin. "On the contrary, I'm always the one helping people `out' of trouble!"
Kevin smiled as Emre and Brendan looked on. Well actually, the two were paying half attention, really half checking each other out!
"Okay J-C. I give. If it wasn't for you I wouldn't be leading the life I am today."
"I forgive you. Get up off your knees!"
"What a suggestive thought to say in front of... who's this?"
"Brendan, these are my houseguests, Emre Temel and Kevin Halpenny."
"Brendan Okano, greeted the two with a hardy handshake."
"I've never met a policeman, except when Kevin got stabbed."
"Really?" Brendan shows concern. "When? Recently? What happened?" he showed real concern.
Emre opened up with, "Kevin is a hero. He save my life!"
"I'd like to hear about it," Brendan replied, taking a second bite of his hot dog. "Dang it!" he called out when mustard oozed out, making a yellow splotch on his navy blue shirt.
Not too quick with the napkin, Emre was on it like pronto, his handkerchief dabbing at the spot. "I've got it!"
Brendan looked down upon himself, holding his hot dog out to his right side, his bottle of spring water in left-field. "Thanks," he replies. He didn't say, but felt a little movement down yonder when Emre stuck two fingers in between two buttons, steadying the fabric he was cleaning off.
"It's the best I can do," Emre responded.
"It looks great. What do you say Jean-Claude?" Brendan asks.
"You would hardly know it happened." And he hands out accolades, "Emre, you're going to make some fellow a fine housemaid!"
Emre questions, "Would that not be a house-'man'?"
Having enough of the dillydallying, the conversation winding down, Kevin tells, "We're walking down the boadwalk and then maybe it'll be time to hit Paradise."
As the two depart, Brendan corners Jean-Claude, "Paradise, huh? I think we went there last gay pride."
"We?" Jean-Claude inquisitively asks.
"Mike and I. Well he's the one who invited me and frankly. Well I have a confession to make."
"You're not gay?"
Brendan giggled, then said, "I thought maybe you would have that all figured out before I took your hand."
"Hadn't a clue," Jean-Claude confesses, thought he hoped he was!
"The truth is I haven't been out all that long. In fact is it wasn't for Mike inviting me along for gay pride day I'd probably still be in the closet."
"You mention Mike a lot. Just what is it between you two?"
Before hitting the beach, the two dropped their waste products from the dogs in the trash receptacle. On the beach the two were not reluctant to drop down in the sand, landing on their butts.
"Mind if I?" Brendan says, going for the buttons on his shirt.
"Not at all!" Jean-Claude replies, attaching a giddy smile.
Slapping the back of his hand against Jean-Claude's stomach, Brendan asks, "You`re not going to soak up some of this sun?"
"It's almost gone!" but being a good sport, Jean-Claude slowly lifts his tee shirt up and slowed since his main focus was drawn to Brendan unbuttoning his uniform shirt, pulling it from his pants and then peeling it back over his shoulders.
"You seem to keep in shape for an old man?"
"I try to hit the gym three times a week, play a little tennis when an opponent is available and once in awhile I'll take off and do some hiking in the woods."
"An outdoors man!"
"Need some help with that?"
He didn't, but since Brendan was offering a hand, scooping the back of his tee shirt up over his back, he didn't refuse or even have the chance to do so. "Thanks."
"Nice," Brendan replies of what he sees.
"Not as spectacular as you though."
"The truth?" Brendan says, leaning back in the sand, displaying his full frontal region, on display for Jean-Claude's viewing as he leans on his elbows.
Replicating Brendan's move, Jean-Claude's elbows sink in the sand. "Of course. I always prefer it over somebody saying something they don't mean."
Out of the blue, Brendan responds, "I think the sunset is really beautiful!"
Instead of a verbal reply, Jean-Claude tosses a handful of sand onto Brendan's stomach.
"Hey!" he calls out, brushing the sand off his abs, trying to get it all cleared out of his thick, dark tummy-trail. "Now look what you've gone and done!"
"What'd I do?" Jean-Claude looked as Brendan pivoted forwards a little more.
"You got sand in my navel!"
"Wait. I'll run home and get my broom and dustpan!"
Instead Brendan, feeling naughty, gets even, but in deliberation, uses his hand as a sieve, filtering sand particles directly into Jean-Claude's deep bellyhole, filling it to overflowing. "There. Now we're even."
"I didn't think you were the type, Brendan."
"Huh?"
"Instead of getting mad, you get even?"
"Why I don't have a vengeful bone in my body!"
"Prove it!"
"What do you mean prove it?"
He could of thought of a few ways, but thinking something weird, Jean-Claude suggests, "Clean the sand out of my navel!"
Smiling, staring at Jean-Claude, Brendan replies, "You really mean it, don't you?"
"Anytime you're ready!" a toothy grin waited also.
Calling his bluff, Brendan wasn't falling prey. Turning onto his side, his hairy trail sagging, forming a sort of `smile', he reaches over and puts a hand on Jean-Claude's stomach. Slowly he moves his palm down the light brown hair-covered stomach. "Ready?"
"Whenever you are," Jean-Claude still dared. And "Ohhhhhhhhhhh!" he sighed out loud when Brendan's index finger drilled his bellyhole.
But it wasn't the only thing Brendan felt led to do. He also used his hand to pivot his bod, press up out of the sand, leaning part of his own chest against Jean-Claude's as he lined his lips up. It was quick, though Brendan retreated slowly, asking, "Is that okay?"
It was, but rather in a romantic mood, still a joking one, Jean-Claude states, "Sure. I think you got all the sand out!"
"Now isn't this an interesting beach scene, Emre?"
Emre tries making a joke as the two pairs of legs stand there above Jean-Claude and Brendan, "Look what the waves wash into shore?"
It came across funny, Kevin heralding him for a good joke.
"Ha, ha," Jean-Claude said each word in a separate entity.
But Brendan differs, "I think it was quite clever."
Skipping over the antics, plus the fact the sun was almost sapped up by the horizon, Kevin invites, "We're on our way to Paradise. Wanna come?"
Gazing at each other, Jean-Claude and Brendan crack up with laughter. It earned them a kick of sand at their backs before the two eighteen year olds took off and hightailed it off the beach and up the boardwalk.
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Copyright 2009 T. Chase McPhee
This story 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.....