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 04 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"I can't believe you two got so drunk out of your skulls," Kevin says, his arm helping Brendan into the condo, Emre trying to hold Jean-Claude, doing a lousy job of it.
Fortunately, at least they could walk!
"What?" Jean-Claude replies. "Only you and Emre are allowed to have a good time?"
Seating the two on a wooden two-seater bench, Emre and Kevin bow out, Kevin remarking, "Oh! Here!" He tosses Brendan his shirt, which was stuffed down the back of his pants for safekeeping.
"Thanks!" Brendan reached out to catch it, gave it a quickie sniff, dropping it on Jean-Claude's lap.
"Hey! Who's got my tee shirt?" Jean-Claude demands.
Both teens shrugged their shoulders as if to say, `I don't know!'
"That was my favorite tee shirt!" Jean-Claude whined, reducing him to pouting, his lower lip over his upper.
"I'll buy you a new one tomorrow."
"You will?" Jean-Claude replied to Brendan, falling over to his side, his head resting on Brendan's right shoulder. "You're such a sweet man!"
Brendan answers, "It's the least I can do!" also thanking Jean-Claude with a sweet kiss to the top of his head.
"Hmm, I'll have to remember to lose more shirts!"
Then they sat there for less than a minute in silence. About ready to ask if Mike Knight was picking him up, Jean-Claude changed direction, "Hungry? Want something to eat?"
Brendan `felt' like something to munch on, but didn't voice his true request, instead lying, "Sure. What do you have?"
On the way to the kitchen, Jean-Claude had a sick thought, thinking of standing there in the kitchen, having Brendan gnaw n his boner. "Let's see," he says, standing there with his ass in the air as he bows into the refrigerator. "How about some leftover cheesecake?"
"The truth?"
"Always," Jean-Claude replies, setting the platter on the kitchen table.
"I lied to you out there."
"You're such a bad-boy, Brendan," giving him a quick, affectionate kiss on the lips.
"I know."
And like reading each other's mind, Jean-Claude enunciates, "What do you `really' want, Officer Okano?"
Making Jean-Claude his prisoner, Brendan butts his bare front up to Jean-Claude, takes both wrists in his hands and pins them behind his back as his lips hit target.
"No more lies," Brendan says in all sincerity.
"I'd prefer it that way."
"When I saw you I knew I had to have you."
"When?" Jean-Claude asks, thinking back to Mike's drive-up, flipping through the hours, to the sunset on the beach, his bellyhole drilled, their dancing at Paradise...
"Earlier today."
"When Mike Knight dropped you off," Jean-Claude assumes.
"No. Before that," Brendan recalls as his hands are strumming up and down Jean-Claude's back, his whispers hot on his neck.
"Um, I think I'm a little lost here, Brendan."
Then bending backwards, separating their chests, but not their torsos, as he still clings to Jean-Claude, Brendan lets on, "On the parkway. The arrest?"
Jean-Claude gulps. "'That' was you!"
Brendan smiles, bobbing his head up and down.
"You're the state trooper who was on the side of the road!"
"You looked straight at me. Did you know I did the same thing?"
"Yes. I mean no. I mean, I was checking you out, but I didn't no you were doing the same!"
"Yeah," Brendan replied with a smile.
"But how did you?"
"Ran your plate and, to make a long story short, when it came up Asbury Park I took the liberty of contacting Mike."
"Wow! This is unreal!"
His smile fading, Brendan asks, "I hope that's alright?"
Still sort of in shock, Jean-Claude replies, "Um yeah. Sure."
And then dropping his hands, thinking Jean-Claude doesn't think it being a cool idea, Brendan says, "Truth is, I hated like hell to do it. It's not entirely a kosher thing to do. I mean if anybody else besides Mike finds out I could be put on probation or something worse. But....."
"What?" Jean-Claude summons an answer.
"I dunno," Brendan replies, turning and walking away. Thinking he's blown it, he asks, "Where's my shirt?"
Then he's taken aback, feeling a pair of hands on his shoulders.
"'Truth is'," Jean-Claude makes jest, but seriously projects, "I'm glad you became a bad-boy for me!"
"Really?" Brendan mellow out, feeling Jean-Claude's arms circle his bod, clinging to his stomach.
In a whisper, as his front compresses Brendan's back, straight out he tells, "'Truth is', I'd really like to go upstairs and make love to you!"
"I'll put the cheesecake away." And Brendan went straight away, ditching it on the second shelf of the fridge!
Throughout the night, neither got much shut-eye.
First off, they wound up on the bed, doing a lot of kissing and stuff. Jean-Claude lay there, it seeming the right thing to do.
Being polite, all things considering, their first night together as strangers more or less, Brendan already had his hands between them, fidgeting with Jean-Claude's belt, same time asking, "I'd like to take this further if you don't mind?"
"I'm at your mercy, officer!" Jean-Claude exclaimed, even though he was man on top.
Brendan didn't need any further coaxing as his hands busied making Jean-Claude's package more accessible.
He would like to have it more sensuous, Brendan's mouth following along with the hands, a slow stripping of his pants, but the two were still under the effects of the binge drinking an hour before, half hour before Emre and Kevin left them to begin their own bed-sex.
"I like how it takes such a `nice' form!" Brendan did joke about how his hand helped cast the mold of Jean-Claude's stiff cock, two big round orbs, all encased in his tight briefs.
As anxious as he was to feel a warm mouth and not just hands play with his hard anatomy, Jean-Claude did wonder, "Do I get to see what your pistol's packin'?"
"You sly fox you!" Brendan said. And before he disrobed Jean-Claude, he slid off the foot of the bed, stood and started taking his pants down.
"Mmmm," Jean-Claude said, licking his lips, seeing Brendan's treasure trail widen all the way down to his lowrisers. Then, what a surprise when the briefs came down. "Holy cow! I've never known a guy to have one of those!"
Brendan, after saying, "You're kidding?" lifted his hard cock to show off the little barbell sticking through the underside of his cock, just under the flange. And the tease asks, "Wanna see it up close?"
Already at the side of the bed, Jean-Claude didn't have much of a choice, but he was as curious as hell to check it out anyway. "Alright if I touch it?"
"Well it's not going to `bite' you!" Brendan replies, giggling.
Like some kind of newly discovered animal, Jean-Claude reaches out and touches it with the tip of his finger.
"Oh come on," Brendan responds, taking Jean-Claude's hand, wrapping it around his cock in a `stroking' position.
"Hurt?"
"On the contrary," Brendan let Jean-Claude explore on his own, "feels great. Keep up what you're doing and you'll have my cream all over the place!"
Thinking if one of them comes without the other, Jean-Claude questions, "Does that mean I won't get a blowjob?"
"Do you want to risk the chance?"
His hand drops away from the pierced cock.
Finding his place once again, Brendan kneels before Jean-Claude. Reaching out with his hands, he holds them together and like a piano player before a concert, stretches them out, cracking his knuckles. "Now! Where was I?" And realizes something amiss, "Hey! Where's your briefs?" as he faces a bare basket.
"Hee-hee... I snuck'em off while you were disrobing your pierced knob!"
It didn't phase Brendan. His knees slipped out from under him, his own cock and balls rubbing on the bed as he slid down to where his face was right over his target. His arms slid underneath Jean-Claude's thighs, more towards his ass, taking his torso up in arms. Same time he opened wide and devoured the 9.5c.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Jean-Claude sighed out loudly, his head sinking into the pillow. More than himself, it's from Brendan he heard groans of tasteful pleasures, like Brendan was sucking on some cooking channel delight!
As for Brendan, he was quite a wet feast, saliva thoroughly lathering up the hot stick, tongue massaging up one side, mouth going over it, sucking it in, then popping off, the process recreated over and over. Then, when completely lubed a few times, his hand took over, his tongue licking at Jean-Claude's hairy balls, one at a time taken inside Brendan's hot mouth, bathed, then on to the other one.
"Ohhhhhh.. This is too good to be true!"
He smiled even with Jean-Claude's other orb in his mouth, taking it as a compliment that he was doing his job, giving untold amounts of pleasuring. Then suddenly, with his mouth switching to Jean-Claude's hard shaft, he got to his knees to what would seem like an awkward position, but not once did Brendan stop with some kind of oral action.
To Jean-Claude's amazement, Brendan changed positions again, keeping his mouth intent on oral pleasuring, he switched his bod around so his chest, stomach, pubes and legs were parallel to Jean-Claude's right side. He turned slightly over, his hairy chest greeting Jean-Claude's thigh, hunched over it, but his lips and mouth playing oral havoc on his tender shaft.
"Mmmmmmm," Brendan sighed deep in his throat when he felt a hand on the little `barbell'.
Surprised to say the least, it's the message Jean-Claude thought he was supposed to get, but instead of only the cock-massage, he felt Brendan's hand on his right hand. Left hand exactly where it should be, across his bod and to his side, in the right place at the right time, with the ability to easily do some cock-playing, again Jean-Claude's curiosity got the best of him, experimenting with the little barbell.
And it was virtually the only time Brendan stopped his oral ministrations, to say as he guided Jean-Claude's right hand to his hairy chest, "My nips are like super sensitive."
"Oh really?"
"Pinch'em hard. Real hard. It like makes my cock go wild!"
And the last word, Jean-Claude replies, "Yeah well, want to get back on my cock before it stops being wild?"
Brendan didn't need further coaxing.
Giving a little mash', Jean-Claude smiled after Brendan's hand found his and taking his thumb and index finger, which formed around Brendan's buried nub, found out just how much Brendan liked having his nips squeezed. After the demonstration, after Brendan pressed his thumb and finger together real hard', Jean-Claude did it even more because of the sweet vibrations he got as he did it on his own, feeling it as Brendan swallowed his cock. Brendan's nip-squeeze seemed like a switch. With each squeeze, came a moan deep in the corridor of Brendan's throat, Jean-Claude receiving the fruits of his thumb-finger labor!
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Next morning the doorbell rang, but neither Jean-Claude, nor Brendan heard it, wrapped up together in bed.
However, the boys were up and well on their way with breakfast. Emre hung in the kitchen while Kevin went to answer it.
"Whatever it is I didn't do it!" Kevin said of the police officer standing there.
His thumbs tucked in the sides of his torso, between uniformed shirt and belt, the police officer asks, same time he's scanning Kevin's bod, decked out only in boxer shorts, "Say. You look kind of familiar."
"To refresh your memory," and Kevin was cool about it even though he knew he was being checked out, "you tried busting me out in front of the soup kitchen a few months ago. You know, when it was cold outside, snowing and there was no place to go for a bed, so I was sacking out at the bus stop?"
"You're `that' kid?"
"Yeah," Kevin replies, not extending any invitation to enter. "Amazing what a haircut, shave and some decent food can do for a guy." And still with a cool attitude, "Something I probably wouldn't have benefited from with my ass sitting in a cold, dark dungeon cell."
"Okay. You made your point kid." And only because Kevin was hot looking, the nineteen year old standing there in boxers, reddish-blond hair fuzz lightly grazing his chest, slim trail down his abs, swirling around his bellyhole, the trail diving under his beltline, did it make the police officer give in, "Like I'm sorry, okay? No hard feelings?" He extended his hand.
It hung in midair, Kevin asking, "Are you hear to fetch your friend?"
"Um, no."
And without an explanation, Kevin makes up one, "Great. I'll let Brendan know you were here." There was a toothy smile on Kevin's face, thinking how fuckin' awesome it felt to close the door almost in Officer Knight's face!
Outside the door, little did Kevin know of Knight's comments to himself, first a `Well!' then, "The kid has moxie... that's the least I can say for him!" And as he walked to his double-parked patrol car his cock was tingling like a foot fallen asleep, reawakening.
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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.....