You know the drill: 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.
FoR SaLE By OwNEr: CK's STuD MuFFiN PaRTy 22 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
%
"Nice setup." Jared purposefully waited till DJ Nightshade removed his bulky heaphones, but he didn't hear him anyway, so he steps over next to him, taps him on the shoulder sporting a tattoo and repeats, "Nice setup!"
"You don't have to yell!" DJ Nightshade yelled back, leaning into Jared Elgin's left ear.
"You're yelling?" Jared leaned back, into the DJ's right ear.
"Was I?" This time he didn't lean, but projected back a smile.
Whether Jared got what he said or not didn't matter, as DJ Nightshade unplugged himself and with the cord from his headset dangling down his smooth chest and stomach, falling a little out of line with his tight happy trail, he led Jared off to the side.
"Um, don't you have to change a record or something?"
"Nah," he replies. Everything's computerized. I bring along the turntables for effect. Really, the PC and iPod are doing all the work." And holding the plug he just unplugged, which had been flopping against his speedo, he says, "I don't even need to be plugged in." And before Jared could get a word in, "So, what's your story?"
"My story?" Jared questioned him.
DJ Nightshade smiled, saying, "You're cute enough to be one of those models, but somehow I get the feeling you're not?"
There was something else he was not, at least it was something he thought he was not, but now he was and figuring he had to start somewhere, "I'm with the band."
"T.R.U.N.K.S.! or of those sexy quads?"
Jared replies with a smile, "You think the quads are sexy, do ya?"
Sensing something, DJ Nightshade replies, as he puts a finger to Jared's midchest and guesses, "You're one of the quads, right?"
"And you must be a mind reader?" Jared returns.
"Could be. Um, what do you think I'm wondering right now?"
He knew this worked for girls and thought the big deal about there being a difference, saying, "You're wondering why you are just standing there instead of grabbing me up in your arms and kissing me!"
"The power of suggestion!" DJ Nightshade remarks, doing just that, closing in on Jared, his arms going around his waist. And as their chest meet, he tells Jared, "You're trembling."
"Um yeah because... like this is the first time I've kissed a guy."
"Virgin lips, huh. I guess this means the other parts of your bod are too?"
"If you're thinking of fucking me, well Nightshade you better think again! Bye!"
"No wait! Hold on!" He runs after Jared, stepping right in front of him, breaking off the escape route. "I didn't mean I wanted to fuck you, okay?"
"Isn't that what gay guys do? They meet up and then suck and fuck?"
"What a copout Jared!"
"What do you mean a copout?"
"Stereotyping me just to get rid of me?"
"I'm not trying to get rid of you. What makes you think that?"
DJ Nigthshade replies, "Because you turned and walked away from me?"
"Oh yeah," Jared confesses. "I suppose I did, didn't I?" He stood there, allowing DJ Nightshade to block his exit. "So, what's your real name?"
"Douglass J. Collins. Or Dougg, with two g's, which I prefer. And yours?" Dougg asks, tacking on a smile.
"Jared Michael Elgin. What does the 'J' stand for?"
"Take a wild, wild guess!" Dougg replies, moving his arms as if conducting an orchestra.
"Um, it wouldn't be Jerk-off, would it?"
Cocking his head, like it was leaning on his right shoulder, Dougg replies, "Do you really think so?"
"No," Jared replies, his eyes sinking down into their sockets, then upright to stare into Dougg's face, saying, "Um, no, but this correlation stuff, a picture translating to words, kind of came over me?"
Pinpointing exactly where Jared was going with this, Dougg didn't have to, but with purpose, stretched the elastic at the ridge of his speedos, stuck his hand in and rearranging things, "Well I guess maybe I've gotta take a leak. That's all," he tries remedying the reason the long tube formed at the width of the encasement.
"You're sure about that?" Jared continues calling the shots, placing his arms folded across the outline of his teen pecs.
"You don't believe me?"
"Dougg, we haven't known each other long enough for me to think if really have to take a piss or... um..."
"Or if I've got the hots for you?"
"Me or the other five hundred guys having fun?"
Frustrated, Dougg says, in his 'orchestrating' manner, "Well what do you want me to do, Jared? Prove it to you, dah?"
"First of all, I think you're kind of old to use that word and secondly, yeah, I think you should prove it to me?" Jared says, holding his tongue between his teeth, swagged to the left side of his open mouth, a grin on his face.
"Okay, well first of all," he copies Jared, "I'm only twenty-nine. Maybe when I turn thirty you can call me over-the-hill and that point in time accuse me of stepping over the threshhold of speaking like I'm a college dude, and secondly, hey, if it turns you on to watch me piss in the urinal, feel free to follow me to the jon!"
Standing there, Jared smiled.
"What?" Dougg asks, his hands flailed out to the sides, expressing himself.
"You must not have to 'go' very badly?"
"Oka-a--ay! No problem," the DJ says, turning and walking away, looking back over his shoulder to see if Jared was walking in his tracks.
His walking increased to a faster pace.
Jared began stepping lively.
Looking back once more, Dougg, who happened to be in top, athletic condition, his swimmers build telling anyone he saw the insides of a gym regularly, picked up the pace even more, increasing to a light jog. He giggled to himself, seeing Jared take on a faster stride as well. Then turning his jog into a full-fledged 'run', he took off down one of the trails, saying to himself, but out loud, "Let's see if you can keep up with this old man, 'dah'!" He kept looking back, his laughter increasing each time Jared fell further and further behind. Too bad he looked back when the fir tree branch bent over the trail, whacking him in the midsection. "Shit!" he called out, it causing him to immediately stop, slightly flinging him backwards.
"Gotcha!" Jared yells out, 'catching' Dougg on the rebound. Actually he tried very hard to stifle Dougg's descent to the dirt floor of the path, from falling on his ass, Jared's arms slipping in between the runner's arms and bod, right at the pits. But as they both fell backwards, Jared feeling the effects of his bod being crushed.
"Oh... thanks," Dougg replies.
"Um, anytime you want to move man... I think you're crushing my nuts!"
"Oh, I'm sorry!" Dougg exclaims, scrambling to his knees which put him the position of kneeling between Jared's legs. "Um, they look alright from here." But not being able to make a clear assessment, Dougg pulls at the elastic top, which folded across Jared's lightly haired pubes.
"Get off!" Jared replies, slapping Dougg's hand out of the way.
In puppy dog fashion, the eyes reflecting apology, he says, "I'm only trying to help?"
Lifting the front of his speedos, Jared reports, "Everything looks copasetic."
"Are you sure?" And now joking, "I'm not a doctor, but I could take a look at them?"
But then Jared spots something on Dougg's chest, "Hey, are you bleeding?"
"Where?" Dougg looks down upon himself. "Oh, just a little wound. From the needles on the tree. I think I'll recover."
So engrossed in their own conversation, they didn't see two guys approaching, one being Carman Magnetti, a pool bartender, stealing a few minutes of his break to walk through the gardens with one of the models. He quips, "Hey, go for it, Nightshade!"
Dougg, making like he was doing a bicep muscle stretch, sent Carman a message of 'fuck you'.
Smiling, Carman replies, "Maybe later," then laughed it off the hand in hand couple continuing their casual walk.
It made Jared forget all about whether Dougg had to 'jerk off' or 'piss', his mind now curious, "So, which is it you like to do?"
Tilting his head, the bridge of his nose squinting in misunderstanding, Dougg asks, "'Do' as in what?"
Having a feeling he was showing embarrassment, the hot rush to his face, Jared replies, "Suck or fuck?"
Standing, Dougg reaches out for Jared's hand, to help him to his feet. "I think it's way too early in our association to reveal such facts about each other."
"Okay. I just wasn't sure."
"Of?" Dougg asks as the two begin walking side by side.
Letting out a small giggle, Jared replies, "When you were on your knees and... and you started to put your hands on my speedo... well I thought maybe you were going to... um..."
Stealing the idea right out of Jared's mind, Dougg asks, "Would it pleasure you to have me lick you like a lollipop?"
"I don't know. Only had one guy give me a blow job and that was like an hour ago."
"Oh, so I wouldn't be breaking you in?"
"I'm not sure. Tell me Dougg, how long have you been gay?"
"Um, since I was born. Maybe even before?"
"Oh okay," Jared realizes the entrapment. "Let me rephrase it, when did you know you were gay?"
"In third grade when I wanted to kiss the gym teacher because he had a hairy chest!"
It made Jared laugh, thinking it funny, but maybe a little intimidated by the subject matter, which he could not put the blame on Dougg, for him bringing it up. Fast forwarding history, he asks, "And your first blow job?"
"Giving or taking?"
"It has to be one of the other right? I mean a gay guy either likes to suck cock or fuck guys, right?"
"Oh my have you got a lot to learn," Dougg replies, pushing open the jon door.
"I guess I owe you an apology," Jared says.
"For?"
"You really 'do' have to piss."
"Nah. You were right. I was getting hard because I had the hots for 'you'!"
"I see," Jared replies, standing there in his original position, arms across the underside of his pecs. "There's one more question you didn't answer."
Dougg knew exactly what was on Jared's mind, answering, "Jared!"
%
Alex was the last one getting there, without Kyle on his arm. Greeting him were Ron and Jake Britten, the mud-wrestler who confronted him the first time around, in a provoking manner.
He was no different, right away telling Alex, "This is how it's gonna go. You punch Ron in the gut, he'll do me and then I'll take on your gut."
"No way!" Alex laughed it off.
"Chicken?" Jake called him.
"More like avoiding insanity," Alex says of his proposition. "Um, like you two guys work out at the gym and I don't?"
"Looks good to me," Jake differed. "Nice swimmers build?"
"I was on my high school swim team, but that doesn't make me a muscle man like you guys."
"So you're woosing out on our trio of gut-bashing?" Jake tried to stir Alex up.
In the nick of time they hear, "Somebody mention gut-bashing?"
The trio looks towards the door. In walks this tanned dude, standing at like six feet-two, obviously hitting the gym seven days a week, pecs like melons, a crust of light brown hair covering, a trail down his six pack... or maybe even eight, right on down to his deep innie, trail running out of his bellyhole and integrated with his mass of pubic hair. Already pumped up for the interaction, the fabric of his speedo was quite expanded. Like honing up his gut-punching tool, one hand caressed the other.
"Who are you?" Jake questions the intruder as he closes the door behind him.
"I'm DJ Rock deRock Rickman and I pump out the tunes, but I heard there was some action happening in the weight training room, so I came to add some 'training' to somebody's experience." And then, like he had an agenda, he walks over to Jake, the back of his hand rubbing over his abs, "Looks like you have a nice set to play with."
Backing away, Jake says harshly, "This is a private party. Nobody invited you."
"On the contrary. Got a friend upstairs," DJ Rock deRock nods towards the upper floors, outside, "who has an interest in things running fairly. Plus since I've had some wrestling experience, if things were to get a little out of hand it might come in handy." As he was saying it, he turned his back on Jake and walked towards Alex, giving him a smile, then a quick wink."
Alex raised his eyebrows, wondering what that meant!
Ron said nothing, his hand keeping his appetite appeased, dipped into his speedo.
Noticing, DJ Rock deRock says, "And since Ron seems to have the right idea, I think we should make this somewhat on the erotic side?"
They all watched as DJ Rock deRock stuck his thumbs into the lining of his speedos and pushed them down beyond the tanned line. Bending one knee he took his foot out of one of the openings, then the other.
Alex stood there, almost stunned, looking at DJ Rock deRock's ass, a furry, almost blond crevice, facing him.
Seemingly, DJ Rock deRock had an agenda, which left Alex and Ron out of it, him walking towards Jake.
"Got the balls for some hard gut work, Jake?" DJ Rock deRock confronted him.
"Um, well... uh... you doin' scare me."
Standing there with his hands on his torso, DJ Rock deRock was a masterpiece of male anatomy. Rounded, chiseled pecs, accented with the minimal of hair, the trail dividing the worked abs, treasure trail leading to the treasure which looked worth more than any sunken bounty could imply, nestled in a bed of the same color fur as his chest, he confronted Jake.
Alex joked, "Well you damn well scare me, DJ Rock!"
The plate-spinner replies, "deRock."
"Sorry," Alex replies.
Since Jake had a 'new problem', he didn't respond to Alex's comment.
At first Ron was 'hard up' for a good gut workover, but seeing where this was head, from a trio to a quad, to one-on-one, he sided with Alex, "Same here."
With DJ Rock deRock blocking his conversation, Jake more worried about himself, he dropped his forward attitude, saying, "Hey, it was just going to be the three of us having a friendly gut-punching session."
"So I heard," DJ Rock deRock replies, holding the same foot stance, legs apart as his cock and balls hung in the balance, arms folded across his chest. And staring at Jake, he says, "Why don't you two scram and leave Jake and me alone?"
Jake tries walking past DJ Rock deRock, saying, "I don't think so."
DJ Rock deRock's flat hand reaches out, pinning Jake to the room, saying, "Whatsamatter Jake? You a wimp? Yeller? Woosing out on me?"
Maybe Jake wasn't getting it, but Alex, upon leaving room, comments to Ron, "Hey, those were the same words Jake used on Kyle!"
As they closed the door to the gym and walked the hallway, Ron questions, "You think there's a connection?"
"I have a feeling," Alex replies.
In the stairway, to the exit, Ron says, "At least Jake is getting what's coming to him. How do they call it, 'what goes around comes around'?"
Alex replies, "I think it's called 'Karma'." But he also detects deep disappointment in Ron's voice. Culminating with Kyle's words earlier, about making people happy even though things seem a little bizarre, Alex thinks to himself, 'I know I'm gonna hate myself for doing this!' "Hey Ron?"
Ron turns around, asking, "What Alex?"
His fist rounded, Alex slams it into Ron's stomach, right above the navel.
"Houghh-h-h-h-h-h-h!" Bent over and holding onto the railing, his hand holding his abs in the surprise gut punch, he makes comment, "Oh-fuckin' yeah Alex!" He coughs a little.
Putting a hand on Ron's shoulder, Alex asks, "Are you alright Ron? I didn't hurt you much, did I?"
Straightening up, turning around from the metal railing, Ron replies, "Never enough Alex. That was so hot. More?"
Alex was ready to say no, had it in his mind it was to be one gut punch, but with the pleading in Ron's eyes, Alex gave in, "Okay, but only one."
Ron could be very convincing and even though he wasn't preying on Alex's feelings, the second gut-punch became a third, as they took their business to a smaller gym, Ron holding onto a lat bar, tons of weights keeping his bod flexed.
"Whew! It's getting hot in here," Alex says, after delivering an amount he had forgotten, as he wiped his forehead with the whole of his arm. "I think I lost track of how many?"
Not Ron, it was part of his training, keeping track, so he was right on it, "Eighteen, Alex. C'mon, put something into it. You've hardly worn me down."
"How about we round it off to twenty?" Alex asks, looking as his hands, his knuckles red.
"Thirty?" Ron questions.
"How about twenty-five?" Alex gambles.
"Sold!" Ron replies, bracing himself for another gut-punch. When Alex gives Ron a sucker punch, he complains, "Oh c'mon Alex. Now that one didn't count!"
"Did too!"
"It didn't even phase me Alex, okay?"
Wanting to get it over with, back to the party, back to his 'Kyle', he figured the only way to do it is with pace and punch, so he put his all into it, heaving his fist into Ron's gut repeatedly for the leftover balance, counting out, "Seven... six.... five," each time with Ron 'answering', "four... three... two and a.... there! Satisfied?"
"Woo!" Ron replied, his hands slipping from the lat bar, him doubling over.
"You okay Ron?" Alex asks, going to him, lifting him by one arm.
"Oh I'm way too fine Alex!"
And in a minute the two were laughing about it, Alex amazed at how he didn't permanently put Ron out of commission.
"How about another blowjob Alex? Least I can do for you?"
"Nah, but thanks Ron. I'm saving up for someone special!"
"I completely understand," Ron replies.
On their way out, they pass by the room where DJ Rock deRock and Jake are incarcerated.
"Kind of quiet in there," Ron says.
Alex says, "Maybe they left?"
Ron jiggles the door knob, the two peeking through an inch of door space.
"Oh fuck!"
"Shit! He just pounded Jake's stomach with his knee!"
"It's called a knee lift," Ron instructs. "Now see what he's gonna do. Oh! He's putting Jake into a camel clutch."
"A what?" Alex asks.
But DJ Rock deRock, sensing intruders, happily invites, "C'mon in guys and join the party!"
Ron readily accepts the invitation, walking right in, right up to DJ Rock deRock as he holds Jake's stomach down on the mat, squats over Jake's back, facing his head and places Jake's arms in the creases of his legs. He reaches around Jake's head and cups both hands under his chin. His stomach is entirely vulnerable for attack.
"It's amazing how tough a gut this boy has Ron!"
Alex stood at the door, hand on the inside knob, wanting to go, but was curious to the exchange of looks. Apparently, he thought, Ron knew something about wrestling because he was verbal on the instruction, as DJ Rock deRock put Jake in the hold.
"You want your abs tested, right boy?" DJ Dougg questioned Jake.
'How can Jake answer?' Alex wondered, with DJ Dougg's hands cupped under his chin, part of the hold which stretched Jake out from shoulders on down to... it's then he noticed Jake stripped of his speedo, apparently his nuts being ground into the flooring. His eyebrows flicked up and jaw dropped, watching as DJ Rock deRock questioned Jake again about the 'abs-testing'. Because he couldn't answer, DJ Rock deRock moved his head up and down as if confirming he wanted it.
Ron, obliging says, "I guess we shouldn't disappoint him now, should we DJ?"
'No,' Alex thought as Ron brought his foot back behind him. 'He's not going to.....' Alex excused himself and left. Outside the door he heard what sounded like a groan of pain and he himself winced. His curiosity got the best of him and he cracked open the door to take a peek. Ron and DJ Rock deRock stood there as Jake lay on his back, holding his stomach and groaning. "Oh shit!" he said out loud, calling attention to himself when Jake reached down and stroked himself! He was invited back in, but said, "No thanks. I gotta get back to the party!" As he walked away, Alex said, "Woooo-hoooo!" as if he was leaving a scene in the Twilight Zone!
As he made it to the top of the stairs and exited the building, right out he heard, "It's about time you came out of there. Ron give you another blowjob?"
"No. He offered but I said I was saving it up for somebody else!" Alex replies.
"Who?" Kyle questions him.
Joking around, Alex replies, "Maybe later I'll come back to the gym and they'll make Jake suck me off!" Alex went on to tell about what they were doing to Jake, backtracking with giving Ron some gut-punches.
Kyle remarks, "You're all sweaty. Pool or shower?"
Alex had had enough of the pool scene, opting out for returning to their quarters. "By the way, would you happen to know how DJ Rock deRock got wind of the gut-punching in the gym?"
Rather than a smart-alecky answer, Kyle says, "After you left I got a bad feeling about this, so went to Geoff about it. Geoff happened to be talking to his friend from years ago, DJ Rock deRock and..."
"Oh, so Geoff sent him to rescue me?" Alex also explained how, once they got in the gym, the terms changed, Jake wanting to punch him in the stomach.
"I knew something bad was going down," Kyle replies. "I had a feeling inside."
"How far down?" Alex jokes, Kyle swinging his hand, the back of it tapping the front of Alex's speedo.
Adding some info, Kyle tells him, "Geoff and DJ Rock deRock used to workout at the same gym. Geoff says DJ Rock deRock knows all the wrestling holds. He taught Geoff a few. Geoff says they've come in handy.
One part of the story Alex left out, he added in, telling of Ron's foot swinging into Jake's gut as DJ Rock deRock had him in a "Camel something-or-other."
"Must've killed Jake's stomach," Kyle reckoned.
"Yeah," Alex returned, "but the strangest thing is I think he was liking it, because he reaches down and starts stroking his cock, which was like as tall as a tree."
"Oh, so they all jerked off?"
"Not exactly," Alex said as he holds the door for Kyle. "DJ Rock deRock walked over, kicked Jake's hand away from his cock and then bent over and started working him over again. I didn't stay around for the encore performance!"
Even though it sounded violent, Kyle giggled at Alex's explanation. "And what kind of encore performance are you looking for Alex?"
Alex wiggled his eyebrows as they both slid their speedos down.
%
"You make me feel very good, Silas."
Looking up at his teen lover, Silas sported a cocky smile, lying between his legs. "So you approve of the way I am tantalizing your lower anatomy?"
With his hands parked behind his head, Caleb Elgin replies, "Silas, are we boyfriends yet?"
Silas smiled, the twenty-five year old group manager using his hands to claw the sheet, dragging his bod up Caleb's bod, his bellyhole passing over his stiff shaft, uprights his bod till he lay almost chest-to-chest. "Would you 'like' it if we were boyfriends?"
"Do you believe in stuff like 'happily ever after'?" Caleb puts it to him.
"You mean I've just sucked Sleeping Beautiful Caleb's cock?"
Relatively new to all this, Caleb asks, "Do you picture yourself next year, two years, a lot of years from now still hanging around with me?"
"Let me put this way," Silas says rather seriously, "when you were getting ready to sing, out of all your brothers, I had my eye on you. At the time I thought how hot you were. I wanted to meet you. Then when your old man started taking his frustration out on you and your brothers I felt I liked you and didn't like the way you were being treated. Then when I got involved I thought I was defending a guy I could learn to really care about. Now I've found out I really care about you Caleb, even feel a warm feeling in my heart."
"I guess that's kind of cool," Caleb expresses himself.
Then, reaching down between them with his hand, enveloping Caleb's still hard shaft, Silas jovially explains, "And then I started tasting this most delicious, tasty morsel and made my decision I didn't want to have any other dessert for the rest of my life!"
Caleb smiled at the analogy. He then asks, "Would any of that change if instead of you sucking me, I fucked you?"
Silas replies, "You know I've lots of opportunity to give up my cherry. That's the way it is in the entertainment business, but if it required it, I looked upon it as an omen?"
"How so?"
"Because I've been holding out for the right time, right place... the right guy. Maybe I've finally found the ultimate gig?"
His eyebrows frowning, showed Caleb wasn't getting it.
Their chest matched almost perfectly as Silas hefted his bod up another few inches, their lips meeting. "What I'm trying to say," Silas conveys, "Is maybe it's time for me to give up my cherry?"
Caleb smiled, getting it and then took command of the situation, rolling Silas over onto the bed. "Even though it's all kind of strange to me, I feel it's the right thing to do."
Silas just smiled as Caleb did all the stage work, first sliding down between Silas' legs, spreading them apart.
"Need help?" he asks, placing his hands under his legs, lifting them up in the air, exposing what lay under his balls.
"I think I need to wet myself up, right?" Caleb asks with uncertainty.
"I.... I don't have any lube, unfortunately. Um, here," he patted his chest, "Come sit here."
It didn't take a calculus major to comprehend what sitting on a guy's chest, where his cock would be going and soon enough Caleb's eight inch tool was in the process of getting lubed up!
%
Michael, even though he was as thin as a toothpick, ate like an elephant, washing it down with the complimentary champagne. Scotty took the fourth glass out of his hand when he began giggling too much! Finding all the lounge chairs occupied, they stole a pair of towels and since the 'beach' volleyball courts were not in use, utilized them for the 'beach'.
"Oh coo-o-o-ol! We're on the beach!" Michael exclaimed, holding a towel over his shoulders like a superman and running across the sandy court. He flips the towel over his head, but somehow gets it caught. He trips and falls on his stomach. "Oops!"
Scotty helps unwad the towel from his head.
Standing, sort of, Michael spreads the towel, with Scotty's assistance, then purposefully falls to the towel, first on his knees, then twirls around, landing on his ass, falling on his back.
"That was quite some dance, Michael!" Scotty makes comment, laughing.
However, almost as soon as Michael's head hits the sandy 'pillow', he falls asleep!
Standing there, Scotty fans out his towel so it touches edges with Michael's towel. He comfortably lies down on his side facing his lover. Parking his elbow in the towel, he rests his head on it. With comfort, he reaches out, places his hand on Michael's smooth chest and glides over it, loosening all the sandy residue. At first he tests brushing it off lightly, but upon finding Michael quite under the influence of sleep, quickens the sweeping. Positioning his hand over Michael's stomach, he comes to the fuzzy treasure trail. He smiles. Then, sitting up, he looks around. Everyone is either eating or hanging at the pools. Between their quietude and the others is a buffer zone of trees, resulting in the two being in a private setting. Sitting up, Scotty reaches over and with both hands, lowers Michael's speedo to where the base of his cock can be seen. He then comforts himself, partially lying on Michael and his left hand feely working under the elastic of Michael's speedo. Contented, he sticks his tongue out and tastes his lovers nip. Taking a glance up at Michael, he finds the sensitive tasting has rendered nothing. Smiling, he closes his eyes.
%
Copyright 2010 T. Chase McPhee
`For Sale By Owner: CK's Stud Muffin Party' 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.....