For Sale by Owner

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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"For Sale By Owner" 40 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

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"Slow morning," Alex tells Ian, standing there with a towel over his shoulder, just used to brush crumbs from his previous customer's table.

Picking a crumb off of Alex's chest, Ian says, "Don't think I'm getting randy with you."

"Oh palease," Alex enunciated in a fem manner, then his regular manly demeanor, "I've had enough of that for one weekend."

Of course Ian stood there, expecting more. With Alex not responding, Ian pleads, "Um, like don't leave me hanging here."

For the second time today, Alex spilled the events of the past night-early morning, focusing on the episode of Einan's kiss. "Kyle says it's nothing, but...."

"I think Kyle's right."

"You do?" Alex replies, almost wanting to here the opposite.

"Sure. To me it sounds like an innocent kiss." Since it was getting Ian a little horned up, he asks, "You two didn't fuck around did you?"

"Did I say we fucked around, Ian?"

"Um no... uh, maybe you didn't get to that part of the story?"

"Nothing like that happened. There's only one guy I'm interested in fucking and.... and... it's none of your business!"

As Alex marched away, towards the kitchen, Ian pleads, "Hey, I didn't mean anything by it...."

Voices trailing off, disconnected by the kitchen door slamming shut, two patrons enter, one searching the interiors of the Coffee Bean. With business slow at the take out counter Jim offered himself up as matre'd, with not seeing Ian, Alex, nor Derek flocking to greet the two gentlemen. He already knew the identity of one of the two, addressing him, "Good morning Mr. Braddock."

After the department store mogul greets him, Jim directs to Braddock, even though his eyes were on the other gentleman, "I suppose you would like your usual waiter?"

Not an idiot to the attention his guest is giving Jim, Stephen Braddock first introduces, "My new store manager for our Manhattan location..."

"Nice to meet you," came the response from Jim, a both his hands shaking the young executive, "I'm Jim Stooksbury."

Smiling, the unknown gentleman sideswiped Braddock's introduction with, "David Sonnemaker," adding teeth to his drop-dead gorgeous grin, "nice to make your aquaintance as well."

Braddock just shook his head, finding his own table, the same one he's had unofficially reserved for the past several years. In about a minute, Jim had escorted David to the same location, saying, "I'll get Alex right away."

"And I thought you would be our waiter?" David said, a little whimper to his request.

"If it's not too busy at the coffee bar, I suppose I could help out?" Jim did a repeat turn, as when he started walking away, David gave him a gentle pat on the ass.

Immediately, Stephen comments to David, "Don't you have enough boys to play with?"

Adjusting his linen napkin on his lap, the new manager states, "I dunno," then glances back at Jim in action at the coffee bar, "he seems like a willing soul. He could be fun to play with."

"Boys and their toys," is all Braddock could say.

"Like I said, Stephen, anytime you want some S&M action the invitation stands."

After sipping his water, Stephen inquires, "Just for curiosity sake, do you carry your private time over into your work environment?"

"Depends. Like we talked last week about it. Some guys are just wanting to be owned."

Braddock, without a clue to the workings of the world of BDSM, sat back, reconfigured his napkin in his lap then let his eyes stray over to the coffee bar.

With a big grin on his lips, David suggests, "Some guys love it, having two masters?"

Even though the thought seemed inviting, Stephen made excuse, "For your information, I was looking for Alex!"

David knew otherwise, but let it go over his head.

"Good morning Mr. Braddock," the cheery greeting came from the opposite end of the cafe.

"Shit," came from David's lips, hardly audibly, but his gasp of surprise when Alex greeted the two. Right away, the twenty-six year old exec's eyes were all over Alex.

"I'll be right with you. I just have to take this into the kitchen."

David's neck stretched all the way around, following Alex from their table, across the cafe and disappear into the kitchen. "Fuck, would I like to see that stud dressed up in leather!"

"You can forget it right now, David. Alex Norguet is a serious young man, from the sticks of Pennsy, probably never even aware of the games you like to play. So take my word and don't pursue it. Besides he's got a boyfriend already."

"Maybe he doesn't know what he's missing?" David more openly pursues. "He's sure got my rocks going!"

"Like I said," Braddock drummed into David's brain. "He's not into it, so you can forget about introducing him to any of your little playmates."

But David wasn't forgetting about it, as his napkin in his lap developed a little point to it. As the two sipped their water and carried on with business talk, David could only daydream of Alex, decked out in chaps, a harness and toting a whip, the epitomy of a full-fledged master.

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"I'm sorry, but Mr. Braddock is unavailable," the young man behind the desk informed Kyle, talking on Scott's behalf as well.

Checking his watch, Kyle then asks, "I bet Stephen hasn't returned from the Coffee Bean, has he?"

Still, the secretary wouldn't give out any classified information, again in a business-like manner, "I'm sorry but I'm not at liberty to tell you of Mr. Braddock's whereabouts."

Out of the corner of his mouth, Kyle leaks to Scott, almost in a whisper, "At least we found out he's not here. Let's go."

Totally out of character for Scott, Kyle stopped short in his tracks, as his buddy looks back over his shoulder and remarks, "He deserves a good whipping!"

"Whipping?" Kyle questioned, as Scott still trained his eyes on the secretary after his bold statement.

"Never mind," Scott replied, returning to his subtle way of talking.

As the elevator opened, a mix of employees and customers filtered out. The two stepped in, followed by another guy, decked out in a suit and tie.

"Asshole, isn't he?"

Kyle and Scott acted like they didn't know who the guy was talking about, though they had their suspicions.

Now the story came out, "Braddock's secretary," the older gentleman said roughly. "Somebody oughta take the little twerp over their knee and give him a spanking!"

Rough and funny at the same time, Kyle and Scott couldn't contain their laughter. Kyle became third wheel to the conversation, as Scott returns to his bold character, "I agree."

"You do do you?" The man became suddenly interested in Scott. After shrugging his shoulders, he coaxed Scott onwards, saying, "Yeah... I could hold the bastard down and you make his ass red as a chile!"

This time the older guy laughed at his own joke, same time waiting to see what Scott's reaction was. At same time, Scott was feeling him out. "Could be fun."

"Fun?" Kyle thought more than said it, though a slight pitch left his mouth.

Sticking his hand out, Scott first looked at it, then offered his when the stranger introduced himself, "Marat Favreau and you are?"

"Scott Broyles."

No attention was shone to Kyle by Favreau, til the elevator reached the lobby.

"How about I buy you two a cup of coffee?"

Parading from the back of Braddock's Department Store, to the front, Favreau pointed out jackets, pants, shirts, ties, everything down to briefs and socks, all with his logo imprinted on the inner label.

Kyle, still trying to get in on the conversation, at least to offer his name, asks, "So you're a designer, I take it?"

Favreau acknowledged Kyle, but his attention was on Scott. After hailing a cab, the three were whisked downtown, parking in front of the Coffee Bean. Scott took a double take, eyes wide as saucers when Favreau handed the driver a hundred dollar bill, almost demanding him to `wait'. Kyle smiled, knowing Scott wasn't used to this type of lifestyle. Once inside, the three made a beeline for Braddock's table. Before Kyle could even greet Stephen, Favreau said to him, "Do me a favor and grab us a chair, kid." Marat made sure Scott had a chair to sit on before he sat himself down. After introducing Scott to Stephen, Marat began chatting with David.

"Looks like we've got a new top-man to add to our group."

In reality, Scott didn't know what the hell Marat Favreau was talking about. Obviously, his ideas on how Braddock's secretary should be reprimanded struck him as how he himself had been treated by his own father, more abuse than wisdom dished out. "What's S&M?"

Stephen Braddock, already bored with the subject, excused himself to find Kyle which he spotted coming in, but not approaching their table. Asking Derek, Braddock headed for the kitchen door. Even though Derek made it federal offense to enter, Braddock shooing off his response, applying his words to the first waiter he saw, "So there you are!"

Right away, Kyle steps up to Stephen and more or less demands, "Who's the whacko with Scott?"

Alex standing nearby, assembling a tray of orange juice, laughs. Apparently Kyle had cued him into everything happening from the secretary's station, the elevator chat, cab ride, to entering the Coffee Bean. In a few morsels of wording, Kyle gave Stephen the short version, Stephen brushing it off as a little fun Marat and David have going.

"Group? What kind of group?" Alex asks, his hands busy filling little glasses with orange juice.

Brushing past Kyle, Stephen smiles like he has inside information, which he does, "And you!"

"What about me?" Alex asks, still his attention on not making the juice glasses overflow.

"On, does David Sonnemaker have his eye on you!"

"Alex?" Kyle questions, a bit perturbed. "Well you just go out there and tell David Sonna-whatever to get his eyes off of Alex!"

Squaring it with both of them, Stephen went on to explain, placing David's liking for Alex as part of the S&M scene. Both accepted his remarks, Kyle lightening up, making sport of the idea. "Could be fun." Then with his bod closer to Alex, "might be fun being your slaveboy!"

It made Alex smile, as he broke off the tangent, "Well some of us have to work to make a buck, so if you will excuse me?"

Watching Alex and Kyle leave the kitchen, Stephen developed a tendency to see where David Sonnemaker came from, regarding his S&M remarks. In a way he was proud of himself, at pegging Kyle the submissive and Alex the dominant master. At a slower pace he walked from the kitchen to their table, visually in his mind seeing Alex in a leather outfit, which David described, Kyle stripped naked and on his knees before Master Alex!

"Tell me, young man..." David Sonnemaker started in on conversing with Alex, which Stephen Braddock reluctantly filled in the missing name. "Yes, Alex, what time would you be getting off work today?"

"Tonight," Alex corrected him as he busily dealt out the small glasses of OJ, taking an interest in Scott's presence among the big-wigs.

"Tonight. Yes," Sonnemaker continued badgering him, "what time would you be leaving here, Alex?"

It wouldn't be the first honery customer Alex had had to deal with, but he felt David Sonnemaker was going over the limit, digging into his personal life. With Kyle and Stephen Braddock filling him in, he pretty much knew where all this was headed, so spoke his mind. "Look, no disrespect intended Mr. Sonnemaker, but I'm not really into your dsbm games, so... so have you thought about what you would like to order?"

Stephen Braddock giggled, drawing Alex's attention for a moment, at the store manager's face, jaw dropped open, starring up at Alex. He also thought, `two points' for Alex, as he totally ignored David's reaction, taking out his leather pad, readying to write their order.

"Excuse me a moment," David Sonnemaker said. "Nature call," he alluded to, drawing his chair back, placing his napkin from his lap on the table and walking away towards the `free zone', path to the jon.

Not feeling any remorse towards Sonnemaker, Alex felt he embarrassed Stephen, saying, "Sorry about that Mr. Braddock, but..."

Shooing his feelings away with his hand, Braddock cheerfully states, "Alex my boy, don't think anything of it. You've just made my day!"

Marat Favreau and Scott sat there, ignoring the two, off on a conversation of their own.

A lull in the cafe bar business, Jim Callman put down the ceramic cup he was drying, looked around and proceeded to head towards the jon. Small, it could fit about three patrons at a time. Again, as his hand was placed on the knob, he gazed around his immediate surroundings, hesitating before entering.

With only one stall, it recently became occupied by David Sonnemaker, not for the purpose of taking a crap, but rather release for his pent up emotions.

Holding the door closed, Jim pressed in the handle button, locking it. Wandering over towards the closed door of the only stall, he vented his collar, trying to get up enough nerve to answer the call of moans coming from behind the gray door. As with any customer he cordially offered, "Um, you okay in there?"

There was no way he could see the evil grin come over David Sonnemaker's face, unless he was standing at an open door.

"Why don't you come in and find out?"

The cat and mouse game came into play, Jim testing the stall door to see if it was locked. With a minimal amount of pressure it gave way to the inside of the rather spacious handicapped stall. David smiled when he looked at Jim, all eyes to him holding his cock in his hand, pants split open, briefs anchored under his big balls.

Nervously Jim asks, "I just thought maybe you might have felt sick or something," he gulped, "after eating....something."

As has happened a hundred or so times within the past few years, backing up to teenhood, the twenty-six year old `Braddock' manager read Jim's wants and needs as if knowing the twenty-four year old from way back. "You want it boy, go for it."

Still gazing on Sonnemaker's fully firmed up shaft, Jim replies, "I... I've never done anything like this... I... I'm not even gay."

Giggling, as if Jim told a joke, the six foot tall, dark-haired patron replies, "Gay has nothing to do with it." Then he spells out, "Being owned is the key here, `boy'. Why don't you just get down on your knees while you're thinking whether or not my beefy nine inches interests you enough to taste it?"

"Taste?" Jim questions, breaking his gaze from pubes to face.

After a small giggle, evil in tone, Sonnemaker places the suggestion in Jim's mind, "You wouldn't have bothered pushing the door open if you weren't curious. I'm giving you the chance. Go ahead. Take it."

It wasn't terribly hot in the jon, what with the air spinning around from the ventilator grills, but Jim sweated profusely, as he wiped his palms on his dress slacks, feeling a chill from the sweat built up under his shirt.

As a last ditch effort, David goes to stuff his cock back into his black Favreau briefs, stating, "I guess I had you figured all wrong."

"No, wait!" Jim called out nervously. He paused after advancing three steps. He repeated David's directions questioning, "On my knees?"

Knowing his assumptions correct, David's hand firmly withdraws his cock from his briefs, again anchoring them under his balls, with the notion, "Being on your knees is the usual protocol for a boy wanting to be owned."

Really not getting the whole gist of what Sonnemaker presented, getting down on his knees', protocol' (for what?), boy' and wanting to be owned', all Jim knew is he wanted something. With all the talk around the Coffee Bean about gay guys and knowing what gay guys do with each other has had Jim wondering about oral sex with a guy. Now the situation presented itself.

"You want' to be owned, don't you boy'?"

Jim didn't know about the `owned' business, but for sure he had an insatiable desire to try out what he heard gay boys do to each other. If it meant doing it on his knees, didn't phase him. All Jim knew is he had the lust to at least take one lick.

As he sank to his knees, Sonnemaker talked him through every step, "That's right and now open your mouth boy... open it wide."

Mesmerized by the soothing voice, after his knees hit the tiled floor, Jim propped open his mouth.

"If you want it, kiss it first, boy."

Looking up, Jim wasn't sure about that part, but David's reassuring smile made it seem like a friendly act.

Coaxing him on, David tells him, "Go ahead. There's isn't anyone here but you and I, boy." As a precaution, he adds, "I hope you locked the door?"

"Yeah, I locked it."

"Locked it, `sir'," David dived deeper into the realm of discipline.

"I locked it, Sir," Jim replied.

It was at that point David Sonnemaker knew he had Jim... owned him. It didn't take much instruction after Jim pursed his lips and kissed the head of the nine inch nail. Beyond that, it wasn't a chore to open his mouth, lick over the piss slit, then take the cock into his mouth. Though David had Jim at his feet, in his mind he pictured himself as Alex!

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"I had an okay day," Devon chatted with Dominic on his cell, long distance from the Deal, NJ home, to the brownstone, 2nd floor, sitting comfortably on the sofa.

`The three stooges keeping you busy?' Dominic questions, injecting laughter.

"You better believe it, Dominic. In and out... in and out... there's never a moment's peace with Raj, Dustin and Lance underfoot, but you know what?"

On the other end Dominic asks, `What?'

"Even though it's not you here, I'm kind of liking the company."

Through the phone Dominic shot a kiss, along with regrets he had to do some personal business down the shore, but would be back by the weekend.

"Miss-you," Devon shot back with, before hanging up.

"Um, there's no more shampoo in the shower. Do you know where Dom keeps it?"

Rolling over on his back, Devon just stared at Dustin, towel in place around his waist.

"Um, the shampoo, Dev?"

"Yeah. Let me see if I can dig it up for you," he replied, walking past Lance, purposefully tugging at the towel, making it slip right off his former high-school-mate's torso.

"Didn't get enough of a look at me in the lockerroom, eh Dev?"

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Devon questions Dustin's motives, bending over and looking in the bottom of the vanity.

Giggling, making it sound off the cuff, Dustin replies, "Like none of us knew each other was gay."

"When we were sixteen, we didn't even know what gay meant!"

"Yeah," Dustin reflects back over the past four years. "But just knowing I had a preference for boys, doesn't matter what you call it."

Donning his shorts and tank top, Devon stands there, shampoo container in hand, asking, "Just for curiousity sake, did I happen to be one of those `boys'?"

Summing it all up, with a wry smile, Dustin replies, "I should've grabbed you up while I had my chance... before Dominic made his move on you."

"Oh, so you did have feelings for me?" Devon asks, parking his ass on the rim of the vanity, legs crossed, Dustin getting comfortable on the closed toliet seat.

Frozen in place, a smile on his face, Dustin thought about how it could have been, if both were out in their whole senior year. "I don't know what took you so long to come out?"

"Me? Why did it have to be me to be the first... well okay, we all knew Alex was."

"Yeah. I guess we really have Alex to thank for drawing us all out of the closet," Dustin replies, thinking of the first pair of briefs sighted in the lockerroom before a swim competition.

Giggling, Devon says, "Yeah, I can't believe it took a pair of chintzy briefs start a chain reaction."

"Though I have to give you credit, Dev, being the one to follow in Alex's footsteps," Dustin says frankly.

"Yeah, well. I'm glad it happened the way it happened," Devon replied.

"Right. You really gave us all something gawk at when you came out with it at the pizza joint."

Stuttering, Devon admitted to it, "Um yeah. Right," he said.

His eighteen year old former swim-bud suddenly had different thoughts. "Unless you came out to somebody ahead of time?"

"What do you mean?" Devon got on the defensive.

"Well, I'm only saying... um, you and Alex were good friends and..."

Warring minds took over, Devon on the rebuttal, "Oh really? And wasn't it you and Ricky Gonzales, who later came out, good buddies?"

Honestly, Dustin had no idea anybody knew about their `friendship'.

"You knew about Ricky and me?"

Devon starts giggling, revealing, "No, but I do now!"

"Bitch! I oughta..."

Jumping up from his throne, Dustin meets Devon headon, Devon asking, "You oughta what?"

Their humorous approach with each other settled down to a more serious frame of mind. Not moving a muscle, Devon leaned against the vanity, arms folded across his chest, not flinching a muscle as Dustin stepped up to him, straddled his crossed legs, stood there, staring. He placed his hands on Devon's biceps.

Opening his arms, Devon pushed himself up to a standing position, his hands prying his butt off the ledge of the vanity. "It's too late," he says to Dustin, almost sorry it was.

"Yeah. But I wonder what it would have been like," Dustin says, not only for his own benefit.

Looking down at Dustin's blond fur covering, around navel height, Devon follows the golden trail up to where it fans over his pecs, right up to where it abruptly ends at the base of Dustin's neck. After a brief smile, Devon says, "I don't know how I managed to let a hot stud slip away from me."

"I know this is wrong Dev and I prolly have no business asking, but... well..."

It seemed Devon knew all too well what Dustin was getting at. Lifting his hands from bracing his bod against the vanity, Devon places them on Dustin's bare torso. Leaning in, pulling Dustin's bod closer to his, pec fur meets tank top, as the two exchange a sweet kiss. Dustin's hands work their way in between Devon's arms and torso, lifting his tank top. As the kiss lingers on, Dustin slowly raises the tank top up. Breaking their kiss, Devon says, "Sorry Dustin. I... I've already gone too far."

Backing off, Dustin says, "Yeah. Okay. At least I got a sample of what I'm missing. Dom sure is a lucky guy."

"I am too, to have a friend like you," Devon replies, offering a small pec on his cheek.

Feeling it up, Dustin jokes, "I'm going to go and have that bronzed!"

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Copyright 2008 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.