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 ~ Life In The Fast Lane 01 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"I.. like.. do.. not.. believe-it!"
"What don't you believe?" Tag Mogan inquires of Micah, especially curious because his astounding comment was taking away from his story regarding his ultimate physique, the epitomy of a swimmers build, molded and shaped at the gym. Of course, after he usually completed his account, Tag would end his story with an encounter with one of a few scenarios involving guys with two like sexual interests, him being man-on-top and the 'grisly' details involved in a gay man's mutual agreement, having his hot stud-man's six pack 'glued' to one of the gym benches, hammering his ass with his sledgehammer.
Overriding Tag's wanting to tell his story, "I believe it," Byron replies, sarcastically. "Trust me. It's 'typical-Ellio'," he laughs.
"Ellio, now," Tag stares out the smoked glass limo window, while stopped in traffic, lowering it, "he wouldn't be the tall Italian?"
It could barely be heard, the driver inquiring, "Italian? Where?"
It took awhile for Ellio to double back to town. First he had to explain to Tom Space the need for the tool shed to be remodeled. Drawing out a makeshift blueprint on his desk with his finger, and after Tom wanting a dollar figure, Ellio rattled off a modest figure. Tom rounded it up, gave Ellio a letter, which gave him power to charge up Cayman Karlyle's account down at the hardware store. Of course this delayed his plans a little, to rendezvous with the construction worker he spotted earlier, but Ellio found it nice 'personally' meeting Raj Singh, the hardware store owner's son. They hit it off rather 'nicely'.
"Like what's that about?" Byron asks Micah when Tag jimmies the door handle and bolts out onto the street.
The driver has fifty fits, exclaiming, "What tha fuck? He can't fuckin' do that!"
Micah and Byron look at each other, announcing, "He did it!"
He was new to CK's fleet of limo drivers, from 'the City' and didn't think anything of pulling over in front of the dump truck, caring less whether he damns the two orange cones to death. Right away, Byron and Micah hop out.
Immediately, the cop directing traffic, hustles over.
The driver, with all intentions of following up on his fare, especially the 'dickhead' who jumped out in mid-traffic, rolls down his window. And before the cop can 'read him his rights', Chico right on top of matters, "Hey, you want to move your balls before my door breaks something?"
Maybe, if it wasn't Officer Ronaldo Bustamente's first week on the force, it might not have given him cause for surprise, "Wha-at?" With quick reaction, Ronaldo backs his butt out into the traffic lane, realizing it, then scooting back in. Which, there wasn't much need to since his 'perpetrator' was set on breaking all rules, sticking his door out, causing a massive tie up behind them.
In reverse order, it was Chico spelling it out, "Look," he reads the little brass plate on Ronaldo's chest, "Officer Bustamente," and after reading the brass plate, Chico's eyes 'wandered around the bold chest and slightly barreled stomach, "as you can see, I got a situation here on my hands," as he persuasively walks himself and the cop to the sidewalk, "my fares jump out in the middle of everything and," using his hands as gesturing, "what am I supposed to do, but pull off the road so you can do your thing and guide traffic? You should be thanking me for helping you, no?"
Suddenly coming to his senses, but at the same time, well aware of the dark, almost black hair, goatee and last minute, coal eyes as the limo driver's shades are removed, Ronaldo replies, "Ah yes, I can see your predicament, but..."
"Great!" Chico replies, taking both Ronaldo's hands in his, "Thanks very much for understanding, Ronaldo," then with haste for correction, "I mean Officer Bustamente."
They taught future cops all about stuff like this, which could happen when pulling over a motorist for whatever infraction. Right from the start, even though it was his first traffic offense and Ronaldo was kind of overwhelmed, he caught on quick he was in for a 'snow job'. However, the problem which arose, it wasn't only Chico doing the checking-out, the cop wondering what lurked underneath the white shirt. Whether it an oversight this morning or intentional, the twenty-seven year old police officer wasn't in the mood for doubting a stranger's explanation, not with that same dark hair painted in a pattern underneath the shirt like a stained-glass window. "I see."
Some more fast talk was needed, as Chico saw, the officer started writing on his little pad. "Um," he threw his thumb over his shoulder, "I'm sure they're not going to be too long and..."
A little scared, because he already had enough parking tickets, Chico felt relieved when Bustamente handed him a paper with his phone number on it, leaning in as he handed it to Chico, "I hope you're as tasty as you look!"
On the paper were seven digits, 'my place', and a big fat smiley face!
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He was so hyper to get 'here', but when Chad opens the door to usher his brother out, "I'm tired!"
Chad tried to get Peter's spirits up with mention of horses, but he knew there would be times when life wasn't so perfect, Peter knowing the same.
But they were very surprised when a guy comes out of the house, rolls a wheelchair a quarter-way down the curved driveway and greets them, "Anybody need a lift?"
They all stood there a minute, Kyle and the dude exchanging glances.
Alex grows suspicious, "What?"
After Peter is situated in the chair, the stranger among them releases his grip on the chair, approaching Kyle and as they hug, "It's really good to see you again, Kyle."
It's almost comical, Alex's face, looking at the two tightly in a hug-lock, this dude kissing his lover on the neck, thinking in a blur, 'See you again? What tha?'
"Likewise," Kyle says, looking over a shoulder to his lover, a smile gracing his lips.
Perhaps concerned over the way Alex is perceiving all this, too Chad breaks the ice, "And you are?"
Chad offers a hand, the dude taking it, answering his question, "Tom Vasco." He stood there a moment, deeply staring into Chad's eyes.
What could Chad do? In a split second he was placed in a mesmerizing, hypnotic state, "I'm..." he gulps, "Chad Monteith... it's good to meet you."
Behind their backs, Alex gestured, wanting an explanation, because to him it looked like everything wasn't just falling into place out of coincidence.
However, as has happened over and over, they are interrupted by two boys running out from the house.
"I thought I told you boys to stay inside!"
Of course they ran to both sides of the wheelchair, heralding, "We want to meet Peter!"
"Hey, who are you guys?" Peter questions. Suddenly, Peter's need for rest diminishes!
The adults watch as the kids introduce themselves the oldest saying, "I'm Tris and this is my brother Monte. We know you're Peter and you're gonna come live with us, right?"
It's much to digest, Alex quietly commenting to Kyle, "The plot thickens!"
On the other hand, Peter right away loves the idea, questioning his brother, "Can we Chaddie?"
"Chaddie?" Tom puts it to Chad.
But it's all too rushed for Chad, especially where he's just fallen out of a relationship he thought would be ongoing. "Peter, don't get your hopes up."
Such a let down for Peter, it was cause for a relapse, him dropping his little ass back down into the wheeled chair.
Totally oblivious to it all, Monte asks, "Can we go swimming now, dad?"
It lightens Peter's burden some, "You've got a swimming pool?" And then, all excited, "Can we?"
Then it dawns on Alex, Chad as well on the same wavelength, "But," to Tom, "you're the real estate agent.... we're supposed to be looking at the house 'to purchase'."
Maybe Chad was in the dark, but by now Alex has been a spectator to all the fancy, silent language going on between his lover and Tom Vasco. If Chad didn't have a million questions, he sure did!
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"I think I'm gonna be sick!"
In response to Michael strangling his hand upon takeoff, Darryl replies, "Before you know it we'll be landing!"
"Why do we have to take a little plane? How come it can't be a great big giant one?"
As uncomfortable as Michael was, comfort was coming. As they evened off, the plane seemingly flying in a straight line, a hand tags his shoulder, a deep voice asking, "Are you alright sir?"
Darryl smiles. He just 'knows' the look Michael must have on his face, peering up at the on board flight attendant. Not your usual airlines, he's decked out in 'special' uniform, for those who can afford something out of the ordinary. In this case, as per the customer, Darryl Trewent, the flight attendant has scribbled across his bare chest in bold letters, "Hi! My name is... I hope you can read it," he runs the tip of his thumb over his dark, lightly-haired chest, "Biktor and if you need anything, all you have to do is ask."
Questionable about 'anything', Michael first checks, "Is this your doing, Darryl?"
Culprit to the flight attendant's dress, or lack thereof, being he's clad in only pants, part of the whole dress, but lacking a shirt, still in the black bow tie, he replies, "His name is written in special, candy writing and I'm sure he will not want to wear it the whole trip, is that right Biktor?"
Because Darryl looks to Biktor, Michael follows suit.
"Yeah," he hovers a little over Michael, "and if it gets too hot, it could get a little drippy." His thumb coasts down the trail dividing his abs.
"Nah," Michael replies. In the past he might have taken the opportunity to do so, stray away from some guy to absorb the pleasures offered by another, but somehow it's like life changed and now he has the notion to stay devoted to one. He does render, "You're really nice Biktor. I mean, nice, not only like nice in personality." And to Darryl, "Sorry, but thanks for the surprise."
"Thanks for your kind words," Biktor cuts in on their sweet little kiss. Like as if Darryl didn't put him up to it, he asks, "Can I get you a drink, Michael?"
Darryl smiles though as Michael takes the liberty to play with Biktor's crotch, saying, "Maybe!"
Biktor's head drops back, showing no complaint!
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As the situation unraveled, Ellio, after having a little affair with Raj Singh, the hardware store owner's college-aged son, just happened to be passing by the construction ditch, on the way back to his truck. There, he spotted the same construction dude he saw out of the window, taking Byron and Micah 'home'. Because he mentioned he worked for Cayman Karlyle, stretching the truth, saying he was the new foreman, creating a job which didn't actually exist, the construction crew foreman cuts Drake McLeod some slack. Then, just as Ellio and Drake are about to exchange cell numbers, Tag Mogan walks on the scene.
"Now what the fuck are you doing digging ditches?"
"Makin' a buck. You got a problem with that?" Drake straightens up and addresses Tag. He eyes Tag up and down and asks, "What're you dressed for, the circus?"
Byron and Micah happen on the scene just in time. Byron laughs his ass off, Micah responding with more dignity, "Um, like do you know who you're talking to?"
In a whisper, Ellio leans into Byron's ear, "Who's the muscle?"
Not having the time to answer, Drake more or less stating the same, Tag defends himself, "For your information I am the number one designer of male jeans in the world!"
"Oh really?" Drake replies. Even the attitude was a bit more pompous than he's used to, he could tell some system of muscles lay beneath the shirt. Working out turned him on. Those whom worked out, even more so. If they were like him, gay, even more-more so! So, he throws Tag a curve, "I'd sure like to go a few rounds with you?"
Tag wasn't reading Drake correctly. Sure, in the skimpy construction garb he wore, for Tag, a lot was up for object of desire. The thin material of the shirt gave the appearance Drake might have a pair of succulent nips for tongue worshipping, but for himself the jeans were way too bulky material. At least the jeans he designed, the material allowed for easy detection of a man's anatomical features!
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"I wouldn't blame Chad if he whacked you up the side of the head!"
"What?" Kyle asks Alex as the two lag behind, "You never played matchmaker before in your life?"
"Yeah, okay," Alex modestly confesses, "but how much did you fill your good friend Tom in about Chad?"
Smiling, Kyle replies, "Everything but dick size!"
"You know Chad's dick size?"
Kyle jumps back with, "No, stoopid! Now how would I know the size of Chad's cock?"
Backing down, Alex replies, "I guess not. By the way, how did you happen to know Tom Vasco?"
Another reason to flash a toothless smile, Kyle replies, "You know how you started to tell me about you and Lance Hawk?"
It took a second for the recollection, the two tossing around the subject of having sex with someone besides each other, Alex mentioning himself and his high school bud finding out about gay sex together. It dawns on Alex, "No! You and Tom?"
Kyle nods 'yes'.
"But he's so much older than you!"
Giggling, Kyle replies, "He's twenty-eight. I'm eighteen."
"I know how old you are."
"You do the math!"
"I already have," Alex replies.
"So?"
"I suppose ten years isn't much difference." And after a brief silence, "So, is Tom as big as me?"
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"I feel so guilty."
"I don't!"
As Geoff walks in on Swifty, unbuttoning his shirt, which he had just buttoned up after the after-brunch rendezvous with Hugo Zongo, he's confronted by a smiling partner, lying there in the bed, totally in the buff, stroking his soft cock. Geoff, peering down at his lover's lower anatomy, questions, "I thought maybe you would be rather 'horny' upon my arrival?"
In kind retribute, Swifty replies, "How was Hugo? A tight fit? Rough ride?"
After peeling his shirt back, revealing his dark-haired, bear chest, Geoff kicks off his sandals, Hugo's designer pair, drops his briefless pants and crawls up on the bed. Situating himself about Swifty's torso, he parks his elbow in the bed, hand behind his head, in a relaxed position. With the other hand, he commandeers his lover's hold on his soft shaft and begins playing with it, saying, "So... you couldn't wait?" he speaks of the smell of ejaculation.
Getting right to the source of his jack-off, Swifty replies, "Well, on the way back I happened across one of the water delivery men, 'lost', and before I helped him find his way I fed him a little protein. You know, it's 'heavy' lifting those big plastic containers of water?" He waited for Geoff's reaction.
But Geoff was already smiling and since it had been established ages ago, about having extra-marital affairs, he just grinned, saying, "You fox!"
Like giving the go ahead, Swifty goes on to tell about 'Hector', the five foot-nine inch tall college kid, earning a few bucks between classes. He concludes with, "I hope it's okay."
"About?"
"Hector says, even though it's giving him some nice size muscle, he would 'really' like to get out of the water hauling business, so I told him," this is the part Swifty needles his way in, "since you're head of security you might find a place for him around here?"
Geoff's first thought of response is, "He's 'that' good a cocksucker, huh?"
In a modest tone, Swifty says, "I thought so, but Hector claims he's more the versatile type and can get into most anything."
"Hmm," Geoff replies. Minutes ago, when Swifty started in on his story, Geoff's hand had migrated to his own cock, his hardening shaft in progress, ready for a second go-round of the morning. "I see." And turning humorous, "So what are Hector's 'other' qualifications?"
Knowing what Geoff is expected to hear, Swifty provides him with food for stroking, "dark-haired, nice pec cover, stomach as well... I'd say more than average fur covering."
A sign Geoff liked his lover's report, he slaps his thigh, saying, "Turn over!"
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"Is that land?" Michael asks, sagging over Darryl's lap, looking down upon the small green and blue spot in the middle of water.
"Our destination," Darryl replies.
Sinking back in his seat, Michael is confronted by their charming airborne host, exclaiming, "Oh, you're dressed!"
With all the frivolty removed from eyesight, Biktor Kovac stands there in a shirt, modestly dressed, toting an attache case as he addresses them, "I have your items from the overhead compartment, Mr. Trewent."
Sure, the free-spoken gayiety, Michael had question, but more importantly, "Um, is your name still written on your chest, Biktor?"
Breaking the serious repose, Biktor replies to Michael's horny question, "No problem. Nothing the pilots couldn't handle."
Michael gripes, "Yikes! Who was flying the plane?"
"Not to worry, Michael dear," Darryl comforts him with a hand to his forearm.
Biktor fills him in, "Yeah, when one of them wasn't cleaning up my chest," he smiles an evil grin, "or lower, the other had one hand on the wheel, the other on the 'stick shift'!"
What did Biktor know about the dashboard of a plane? His sole purpose and paid job, valet and other odd jobs, to accompany Darryl whever he went and keep everyone happy!
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Copyright 2010 T. Chase McPhee
`FOR SALE BY OWNER ~ Life In The Fast Lane' 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.....