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.
%
FOR SALE BY OWNER 55 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
%
"Oooooh Ky-y-y-y-le?" Alex called upon leading Michael into the three-flight brownstone.
Looking around, Michael said in a soft voice, "Somebody's loaded."
Alex was too busy searching out his lover boy to hear.
Finding him in the kitchen he quickly gives Kyle the run-through of how he met Michael on the subway as Scotty listens in. As they make their exit, Scotty follows with curiousity. Kyle remarks in a whisper, "Look what the cat dragged in."
"Young," was Scotty's comment.
"Yeah," Alex confessed, "and cute as my Michael."
Scotty wondered, "Michael who?"
"Alex's brother, Michael." Kyle educated him.
Getting closer, the two hadn't caught up to Alex. But when Michael turned towards them Scotty mutters, "Hmm... Alex's brother must be a real treasure!"
"Hey guys. This is Michael Coelho. I told him he could spend the night!"
But Kyle was already having his reservations about the odor, the dirty clothes and disheveled hair, pinned down by a backwards baseball cap. "Um, Alex?"
"Yes?"
"Can I talk to you in the kitchen for a moment?"
As they went off to chat, Scotty `entertained'.
"Where you from?"
"Colorado," Michael replied.
Unknowing to Scotty, to Alex the answer was St. Louis!
"Dry country out there," Scotty made conversation.
"Um yeah. I lived with my sister. I just moved out there so I'm still getting used to the hot weather."
There was a question on the tip of his tongue, pressing his curiosity, "So then what are you doing here in New York?"
"Um... I... school. Yeah that's it. She sent me out here to go to school."
"Oh really?" Scott said as he folded his arms across his chest, staring at Michael, memorizing the tiny patch of hair under his lip, surrounded by a stubbled beard. "Kyle, Alex and I are going to college this fall. Which one are you going to?"
"Um, uh... Julliard," is all Michael could think of, having passed it somewhere in his travels.
"Wow! You've got to be good to get in there. What's your major?"
Remembering the profession his father was in before he got kicked out of the house, Michael replies, "Business Law."
"Hmm," Scotty pondered. He wasn't too familiar with any other college but cooking schools, but remembered Carlos saying he preferred Manhattan School of Music over Julliard. So rather than beating around the bush like a spin of `Wheel of Fortune', he bluntly says, "Julliard is a school of music. I hardly think they offer business law as one of their course offerings."
"Um yeah.. well... it's music business law," Michael tried covering his tracks.
Rather than press the issue Scotty, instead of thinking about the possibility of Michael getting kicked out on the street, probably something Kyle had taken Alex to the kitchen in private, he remembers how he himself was a loner in town when he arrived and how Kyle treated him with trust. Even though he knew Michael was lying he asks, "Interested in taking a shower? I can launder your clothes while you are scrubbing up?"
"Shower? You don't even know me."
"I know." They both paused, looking at each other. "Well, interested in the shower or not?"
At every turn of the circular iron stairsteps, Michael's head shifted right and left as they ascended. At the top they hear, "Michael?"
"We're up here," Scotty calls down to them. "I'm taking Michael upstairs to shower. Did you need him for anything?"
The two didn't hear Kyle as he says to Alex about more interrogation, "I suppose that gets `you' off the hook?"
"Hey. I get the impression he's harmless. It's apparent Scotty seems to think the same. What harm would it be to let Michael spend a night here? Get cleaned up and some food in his stomach?"
Kyle listened but still was unsure.
"Did I oppose when you brought a guy home who you met the same day?"
"Who?" Kyle asked with hands on his hips.
"Scotty?"
"Oh yeah. I forgot," Kyle replied, not remembering because Scotty has fit in so well it seems like he's lived here for forever.
"So?"
Relinquishing his doubt with a smile, Kyle jokes, "Why not? Another young guy for Vince to drool over!"
"By the way, where is..."
"He, Jarrett and Jason are out `shopping'."
"For guys or..."
"Hint. They're stopping by the `Waldork'!"
"That Vince. What a playboy he turned out to be," Alex replied as they headed for the spiral stairway, Alex leading Kyle to their room to change.
Kyle says, "You know playboys need their playtoys!"
Entering the loft, Alex pulls back the heavy curtain recently installed, after holding it for Kyle. After swishing it closed he twirls Kyle around and engulfs him in his arms. "So, what has my playtoy been up to today?"
After kissing, Kyle tells him, "Nothing much. Took Scotty out for some clothes."
Since things weren't of the romantic style, the two disengaged, Kyle falling on the bed, Alex unbuttoning his white shirt. "Oh, so he trade in some of those sad rags he wears?"
"Yeah," Kyle snickers. "Mathieu updated his geek image."
"Mathieu?"
"Yeah, this hot, dreamy hunk who works at Braddock's. Strange I never noticed him before."
"You must've been blinded by the light beaming off his smile, huh?"
"Something like that."
"Speaking of which..." Alex opens his wallet, pulls out a plastic card and tosses it at Kyle lounging, landing on his stomach.
"Whooooa. Who's this from?"
"The `man himself'!"
"Stephen?"
"Yeah. Betcha you thought you had a monopoly on him, huh?" Alex joked as he lowered his last stitch of clothing, his lowrise briefs.
"He's a nice guy but he doesn't turn me on," Kyle replied, intently staring at Alex's `goods'.
"Well, I better stop procrastinating and hit the shower," Alex said like he hinted something, rubbing his crotch, handling his hairy balls first then stroking over his cock once.
"You're not being very conservative Alex. How are we supposed to save the planet with you wasting water?"
Kyle slipped off the edge of the bed onto his knees.
Meanwhile, Scotty had just discovered, if Michael's clothes were in the washer he would have nothing to put on. Scurrying up from the basement laundry he highttailed it to his room. From his new collection he picked out a Dolce & Gabbana tee shirt, a pair of Oakley cargo pants and 2xist knit boxer shorts. Realizing he had ditched Michael's baseball cap into the washer, he donated the freebie `Braddocks-logoed' one to the pile. Back upstairs he approached the jon. Knocking on the door he didn't get a reply. Stepping in he found it necessary to sweep his hand through the mist to see. "Michael are you in here someplace?"
"Oh yeah," he replied in a soft groan. "The shower feels so good I couldn't help but stay in."
"Your clothes are in the wash so I found some of my own you might be able to fit into."
"Oh damn!" Michael calls out.
After Scotty set the clothes down to the side of the wide vanity he looks down to where he heard a thump on the floor.
"Sorry. I dropped the soap. Mind handing it to me?"
Even though only three feet away, Scotty couldn't see the shower stall. "If I can find you!" Scotty replied.
Reaching the glass door he figured Michael's head would be sticking out, but he could view more than that!
"Thanks."
"Your welcome," Scotty replied taking in the full frontal view. Not much in the way of hair, except from the navel down!
Michael knew the game he played. Even though he had turned eighteen last month he was being as sneaky as any other guy who's testosterone levels were soaring. Traveling about the country he didn't have the cash to pay for a room or meal so sometimes he had to be creative for a pillow to sleep on or food for his stomach. Right now he was reading Scotty as if the front page of the New York Times.
"Want to come in?"
"I'm dressed. I'll get wet!" Scotty replied even though he would have loved to share the jetspray with Michael's wet bod with all the lower enhancements.
"Oh," Michael replied, not used to having a guy back down.
Getting some tingles down below, Scott sought to keep his hand from closing the glass-plated shower door. "So, your sister put you on a bus to here?"
"Ah, yeah... but I had lost my ticket so I had to hitch."
"I see. So you didn't have any money so you slept with guys for small favors?"
Michael wasn't ashamed to say, "Hey if it means starving, a guy has to do what he's got to do."
Having stood there chatting with Michael, Scotty hadn't realized what the steam was doing to his clothes and skin. He rubbed the center of his chest, realizing it was sopping wet. A moment of silence engaged, as he tried figuring out why he was getting turned on to Michael. He was lean, but not undeveloped by any means as he stood there soaping up his chest, the suds trickling down his bod, integrating with the wisp of a treasure trail.
"Are you a top or bottom?" Michael asked.
"How do you even know I'm gay?"
"I just know and you know I'm gay, right?"
It was a cute way of putting it, something like his sister's kids would say. "I had a feeling but wasn't sure," Scotty put it.
"Okay. Well if you're not coming in, I'm coming out."
Maybe it was the magical hole Michael was having on him, because Scotty never thought he would do this, walk right in the shower with his clothes on, pinning Michael against the tiled wall. His shirt was right up against Michael's shirtless bod, his hands all over him, his lips engaged in sweet kissing.
"Cool!" Michael said when Scotty broke off the initiated kissing. "Want a blow job?"
"No," Scotty said as he still held Michael in the bondage after his frontal assault. Then stepping out of the shower, he says, "but maybe later."
Walking out of the jon along with a dense fog of steam, Scotty exhales. He bumps into Alex, Scotty noticing him in the buff.
"Got to get in the shower and get this stench off of me," Alex tells him, his hand on the knob.
"Um, Michael's in there?"
"So?"
Scotty laughs, seeing Alex open the door and disappear behind it.
"What's so funny?"
"Alex," Scotty replied. Placing his hand on Kyle's bare chest he pushes him back into the loft.
"What's this? Want a piece of my ass too, huh?" Kyle jokes.
Not phasing him, Scotty tells all, "You wouldn't believe what I just did!"
"Um, crawled in the washing machine and washed your clothes?" Kyle joked.
"Besides that... I mean no... I can't believe I walked in the shower with Michael, with all my clothes on and guess what else?" He didn't wait for Kyle to respond. "I pinned Michael against the wall and went ape, kissing him!"
"Well Scotty-me-boy," Kyle placed his arm over him in a comrade fashion, but removed it when his arm got wet, "getting `up' in the world are we?"
"Kyle you don't understand. I don't know the guy from Adam. I just walked in there, smothered Michael with kisses and put my hands all over him!"
"Where?"
"It doesn't matter where!"
Though to Kyle it did, getting horny all over again even though he just shot his load as Alex let loose his cream up his ass. Fessing up to it didn't matter, "Okay so then what did Michael do?"
From the excited, serious manner, Scotty giggles saying, "I don't think he knew what to do. I think he was totally surprised."
"Who wouldn't be! So, he fall to his knees and give you a blow job?"
Scotty's composure turned serious, standing there drenched to the skin, his hair scraggly with wet bangs.
"Earth to Scotty," Kyle said, knocking like a door on his forehead.
"Kyle, I think I like the guy. What do I do?"
"Oh boy, Scotty," Kyle replied, portraits of Reiko and Mathieu flashing through his mind.
"I know what you're thinking, Kyle."
"Hmm... playboy and mindreader too, eh?"
"Kyle would you get serious?" Scotty slapped him in the stomach with the back of his hand.
"Violence is not the answer," Kyle joked.
"This is `not' funny."
"You're serious, aren't you?"
Scotty went on to explain the whole scenario, telling Kyle it wasn't the hot water cascading over the two of them making him hot. Like a porn story, he explained how his hands were all over Michael, his back, sliding down and caressing his tight ass cheeks.
"Get hard? Had the urge to fuck him," Kyle said with a hefty giggle.
However Scotty wasn't joking when he confessed, "My fly was ready to bust open. Why do you think Michael offered to give me a blow job?"
"And you passed it up?"
"Kyle, eat your words!"
Even though it was on his mind he'd rather substitute Alex's cock, he replied, "My words? How's that go?"
"When you told me about the first guy you met... the one before Alex... how you thought you were madly in love with him but wanted to take it slow?"
"Oh yeah. I forgot I mentioned it to you."
"Well even though it didn't work out for you, if and when I got serious I wanted it to just like that. Not a fly by night love affair, but..."
"I get the picture Scotty. Damn, you really are serious about Michael, aren't you?"
Just then Alex enters, all showered. "You guys better watch out for Michael," he half-heartedly says seriously.
"Why?" Kyle asks.
"First he tries going down on me and then gives me some bullshit about how tight his ass is and what a hot fuck I could get out of him!"
Scotty's head drops, his chin touching his wet tee shirt.
"C'mon Scotty. Let's get you dried and dressed," Kyle says as if a parent leading a kid.
"Did I say something?"
"It's not you Alex, though I hope you turned him down!" Kyle replies.
"What do you think?" Alex says, one hand on his hip, his torso cocked at an angle, other hand dropped to his side.
Grabbing a pair of briefs Kyle led Scotty out, down the spiral flightpath and into the room they planned on using for Alex's sewing enterprise.
"I guess I just made a fuckin' fool of myself," Scotty complained.
Kyle knew this to be serious, never hearing a raw word out of Scotty's mouth. Scotty would have remained in the soaked clothes if Kyle hadn't started stripping him out.
Scotty mumbled under the shirt as Kyle pulled it off over his head, "Why can't a guy ever get serious with me?"
"Scotty you're being unrealistic. First your with Reiko, then suddenly turned on to Mathieu and now you're sobbing like a baby over a total stranger who comes into our house!"
Stripped down to the torso, Scotty falls face first into the bed, sliding the pillow out from under him and covers his head. The bed had been Knapp's queen-sized bed, bought with purpose to entertain more than one man at a time. Kyle follows, his chest crashing next to Scotty.
"Scotty..."
Right away Scotty cut to, "You've got Alex. Who've I got?"
Kyle couldn't deny Scotty how good it felt to have a good man beside him. Rubbing his hand over Scotty's shoulder blades, he tried calming him. Much to his surprise, Scotty turned on his side and just looked Kyle in the eyes. As he fully turned to his back Kyle didn't have a choice but to plop right down onto Scotty's chest. Pulling Kyle's head to his, Scotty kissed him, then allowed Kyle's head to spring back.
However Kyle didn't push away in rapid motion but rather lingered. Rather than scold, Kyle rendered, "You have to really think about this Scotty. Sure, it felt like love at first sight when I met Alex, but it's a rare occurence. If I were you I'd lie here and thing it over. Think about each guy you've met and why at first you seemed to fall in love with them."
"I never really was in love with Reiko."
"I know."
"You did?" Scotty replied, sitting up on his elbows as Kyle knelt in the bed.
"What can I say? As Alex puts it I have this `sixth sense', but as I think of it, it's common sense!"
"What about Mathieu and Michael?"
"No vibes are coming through." Then as he stood at the door, Kyle suggests, "It's your decision. Choose wisely!"
Scotty dropped to the bed on his back, exhaling. With Kyle shutting the light out he stare into darkness. Skipping over Reiko his mind panned over his first encouter with Mathieu, from the time he entered the store. He smiled when Mathieu excused himself when opening the fitting room door, excusing himself, but lingering to check him out as he stood there in only his briefs. He smiled in the dark, it turning into a slight giggle when he pictured Mathieu's face, suggestive of seeing a hot guy in the buff! He sobered up, his mind falling upon Michael. In his thinking he fell asleep.
As Kyle entered the kitchen, Alex turned to him to say, "I think you and Scotty better go shopping... right now!"
In front of Michael, Alex had set out jars of peanut butter and jelly, a loaf of bread, chips and salsa, a gallon of milk, two hardboiled eggs from yesterday, heated up lasagna and a box of oreos.
"Um, when `is' the last time you ate, Michael?"
"Yesterday I think," he guided his fork as if a wooden pointer. "Yeah, I remember it clearly. I was near Columbia University. Some college dude said I was cute and gave me the rest of his burger, fries and shake."
"And you ate it `after' his mouth was on it?"
Michael turned to Alex when he replied, "Oh, my mouth has been on lots of other tasted meat, believe me!"
"Never mind. I don't want to know," Kyle said, getting the similarity.
"Hey Alex? Do you have any ice cream?"
Alex kind of wondered what was happening when Kyle totally ignored the depletion of the food stock to ask, "Scotty's a nice guy huh Michael?"
"Sure is. He lent me these nice threads," Michael replied, shoveling another fork of lasagna in his mouth while chomping on an Oreo.
"He's kidding, right?" Kyle asked Alex.
Alex responded, "Says he hasn't had a decent meal since he left home."
Kyle sensed Alex knew more than he, deciding this wasn't the right time for Michael to bring up the past, especially when he said, "Oops," the glass of milk trickling down his chest from coming too much-too fast into his mouth.
%
From the patron side of the counter at Hyland Falls Cafe, it looked almost brand-spanking new, but from Jim's view on the other side it was a sight to behold.
"Um Bill, could you come here a minute?"
"What's up?" Bill asked, his arms hanging over the cafe doors of the kitchen, hair bursting out of the pits of his arms and seams of his tank top, toothpick in his mouth.
Like Bill's sloppy attire and the way he conducted himself, Jim compared the condition of behind the counter. He wondered what Bill's home looked like. "Don't you ever clean up back here?"
"Why? Nobody eats back here. Listen. Just do your job. I don't pay to put up with your bullshit. Just do the what I've told you. Okay?"
And Jim wasn't ready to put up with any bullshit.
"Ugggghh-ah!" Bill cried out when the cafe doors slammed against his back. Too, he voiced his opinion, "And I don't get paid enough to put up with your bullshit!"
First day on the job Jim handed his apron in, rather balling it up and casting it against Bill's chest. Before Jim reached the truck, Bill was on the phone to Jack.
He stirred up dust, coating the 4x4 with his own road dust. Calming down he smiled, saying to himself, Getting honery in my old age!' But the old age didn't apply, being twenty-four. Plus he considered himself in good shape. After going over the railroad tracks his head turned as he read a sign, then focused as he backed up. He read the sign again. Why not?' he said to himself, putting the 4x4 in forward, pulling up to a modern roadside vegetable stand.
"Hi! I saw your help wanted sign and was wondering what kind of work you were offering?"
At the top of his lungs, the guy yells, "Hey Jean-Phillipe, somebody lookin' for ya!"
"I thought maybe... you were in charge here?" Jim asks the forty-something guy.
"Nah. Just pinch-hittin' for Jean-Phillipe. `Xpect you'll be working up front here young fellar."
"What's up.... Red?"
Split second before checking out the barechested owner, Jim made the correlation between the name `Red' and the pinch-hitter's red hair. Then his sole attention was on the barechested beauty standing there before him.
"Pardon my sweaty hand, Jean-Phillipe Mesquit."
"Hi," Jim offered his dry hand, "Jim Stooker. Saw your sign and..."
"Great. Do me a favor and take it down? You're hired."
"Just like that?"
By the time the two got to talking, Red had boarded his old pick up and stirred up the road dust.
"You don't remember me, do you Jim?"
Jim didn't.
"Sonnemaker's party?"
That presented a lot of information. Jean-Phillipe is gay and into BDSM. "Sorry. I was so tied up, pardon the pun, in what I was experiencing I don't remember."
"I don't think you got much of a peek at my face. I had a mask over my head." When Jim still didn't know, Jean-Phillipe replied, "Jack traded me to some asshole `master' who thought he could get away with pretending to be one!"
"Ooooh yeah," Jim laughed it off, "you were supposed to be Jack's slave, but when he saw me."
"Yeah, would you believe it? Not to slight you Jim, but he passed up a body builder like me for a beefy guy like you?"
"Um, body builder, Jean-Phillipe?"
"Okay so I don't hit the gym, but there's plenty of lifting here on the farm to run rings around those gymrats. Say, I'm headed inside for a break. Care to join me?"
"What about the stand?"
Giving a whistle, Jean-Phillipe summoned up another worker. "Hey Manuel, hold down the fort while I take a breather?"
Shirt split in half, Jim watched the 5'10 Latino hustle to the front of the fruit stand, more like an outdoor market, with limited roofing.
Jean-Phillipe mentions, "Cute little guy, isn't he?"
Jim thought so, however if Jim only knew of the cute little guy's `big thing' crowding his pants!
As they entered the rather large house, Jean-Phillipe led him to the kitchen.
"Nice place you have here Jean-Phillipe."
"It's John," Jean-Phillipe makes the correction. "I dropped the French version after setting up shop."
"But red?" Jim inquired.
"He said he liked the way it sounded. Said it gave the place some class. Me? I don't get into putting on airs." After grabbing a sixpack, sandwich meat, bread and a head of lettuce, a few tomatoes, John asks, "Hey, do me a favor Jim?"
"Sure. Name it."
Opening a skinny closet door which is about eight feet tall, John brings out a flogger, long strands of leather falling from it. "I feel a little tense. Want to give me a few?"
The house resembled a barn, the kitchen rather large, wooden stairway with squared off posts holding up the above floor. John walked over to one, reaching up and placing his hands on the sides.
"I don't know about this John. I never...."
"Oh come on Jim. You `do' know how to use one?"
"Sure I do," Jim replied, holding the flogger by the fronds instead of the handle.
With a smirk on his face, John grabbed the handle. Picking up Jim's hand he placed it in Jim's hand. Before John went back to the post he locked eyes. They both laughed.
"Just lay about ten across my back."
Holding the long leather vines in his hand, Jim let them trail over his hand.
"You do me and I'll do you, if you want to?" John suggests.
That made Jim's loins tingle. "How hard?"
"Start out light and then after two or three swing it harder and finsh out with some hefty throws after eight or so. It's up to you."
So Jim covered John's back with the leather fronds, which hardly made a sound.
"Oh c'mon Jim. You've got to do better than that!"
Another lash of the flogger made John reply, "Ahhhhh, felt soooo good. But put some muscle behind it this time, will you?"
The second lash made John cry out, followed by a tender sigh of pleasure. Jim looked bug-eyed at first of his hand, the cause for John's back turning red with defined lines. The next three he hurled in succession drawing more pain and pleasure out of John.
"Feels hot, Jim. You're doing a good job, but put some force behind the flogger now."
As John had requested, Jim hurled the flogger at a moderate speed then brought it further behind him and really gave his upper back a working over.
"Shit are you're all red!" And when Jim rubbed his hand over John's back it felt warm. "I think your back is running a temperature!"
"Feels great. A couple more?"
After Jim finished out the whipping, John asks, "Take your shirt off?" It was John's way of extending the invitation.
"Maybe some other time. I'm really anxious to start my job."
Giggling, John told him, "You already have!"
After their early lunch, Jim downing two beers and sandwich, John showed him around the multi-acre farm. He pointed out all of his favorite places to stand while being treated to a whipping.
"And who had this position before me?" Jim asked.
"Nice college kid, but he graduated and moved on home. Been looking for the right man for awhile now. Took me some time to convince Jack Kovacs to take me to Sonnemaker's party and then I get hooked up with some schumk!"
Jim knew it to be his former boss, Bill Miller. "That was awhile ago. You haven't... um..."
"Yeah. Met a guy at a motel up the road. He was built, great looking, typical picture of a hot master, but all he was into is blow jobs, a little ass play then a hot fuck. Sex is good, but love a hot torture session as foreplay. Hey, you into nip or cock'n'ball torture?"
"Haven't had much of it. Actually no CBT, but have had my nips worked. Have to admit it turns me on a lot."
"Cool. You and I are going to have a lot of fun." Out of a drawer John pulls two chains. The ends of each have a clamp on them. "Care for a little wager?"
"Wager? I'm not a gambler, John."
"That's okay Jim. First bet we'll make... umm.... You win I give you a blow job. I win I give you one."
"And what would this wager entail?"
"We each put a set of clamps on our nips. First one who gives up before quitting time is the loser. You game?"
"Depends on how tight the clamps are."
"Give you the advantage. We'll tighten your screws a little." He hands them to Jim. "And for me, untighten.... no, take the screws out," John replies, tossing the screws from his nip clamps on the table.
"So we put these on our nips," Jim says, pulling up his shirt over his hot pecs.
"No wait. Here," he hands Jim his clamps, taking Jim's. "We put them on each other."
They held them open, clamps ready to grab nip meat. "On the count of three," John says.
Strange thing, Jim's face was contorted like this was going to hurt like hell, but it didn't, illiciting softly, "Ooh-ah-ohh-ah-ahhhhhh!"
"Feels hot doesn't it Jim?"
"Not bad," Jim replied looking down at his chest, the chain dangling between his pecs, lying on his upper stomach.
"Keeps me hard all day," John said.
Jim didn't doubt it, seeing John's pants already cramped. He didn't say anything but sighed when John handled his meat through his pants. "Oooooh fuck yeah!" Jim expressed his opinion.
"So you up for the wager, Jim?"
"Right now I don't think I have a choice!"
The more John stare at Jim the more pulses he received from his cock. "I don't think I'm going to last long."
Smiling, Jim replies, "I can see."
Looking down upon himself, John pulled in his belt to see a wet spot on his jeans. "Looks like I sprung a leak already!"
"Only one sure way to find out!"
Standing there, chin still holding the front of his tee shirt up, John watched as Jim undid the button of his jeans. The zipper took a bit more time lowering because of John's pent up cock bulging at the seams.
"What are you a perfect 10?" Jim jokes around.
"Last time I was measured my rod extended to eleven exactly," John replied.
"Oh? When did this happen? With Jack?"
"Um no. Jared, the college dude who played with my bod for the last four years before meeting up with Jack. In fact, I learned by coincidence he was even into `the scene'."
"And how would that go?" Jim asks, separating the flaps of John's pants, the lowrise briefs giving a hint of dark pubes.
"Jack or Jared?"
"Both actually. As for Jared he saw the sign and I hired him on the spot."
"Oh, so I'm not the only one you had used your gaydar on, is it?"
"I think the feeling was a mutual attraction, but when I brought him back to the house for a beer, Jared happened to instigate the kiss. From there his hand dropped to my crotch..."
"Like this?" Jim questioned, parking John's briefs under his big balls, his hand fooling around with John's balls.
"A little more aggressive," John replied. "Jared never wait til he had my pants open. Nope, his hand dove right in and before long his soft touch grew harsh. I'd never felt it before, but his hands closing tightly around my balls only served to make my cock fill up my pants. Make sense?"
It made lots of sense, coming in loud and clear, Jim remembering Sonnemaker's party. Only thing he was totally skinned down, arms and legs tied eagle-spread on the bigger-than-bod `X' frame. But more imprinted on his mind was Jack's touch to his genitals, one hand gently squeezing while the other stroking away. "Sure," Jim responded. "Not like I haven't felt it before."
"Word around town is you and Jack have begun to set up house. So, you getting stiff everynight with Jack playing with your bod?"
Only Jim and Jack knew the real story of the mutual setup, how sometimes himself as `man on bottom', other times Jim as pilot, flying high as the two exchanged roles in the cockpit. "Oh you bet," Jim responded, not wanting to slight Jack in the least, lest his reputation be scarred for life.
"Hey, since you look like you're not going to keep your cream from boiling over, how about we crank this up a notch?"
Standing there Jim didn't have time to answer as John took off one of his nip-clamps with a long sigh. Jim watched as John wove his nip-clamp over his chain, joining the two at the center of the silver links. He intently watched as John sighed and threw back his head while reattaching the clamp over his puffy nip. He didn't see it right away but later noticed the long, sinewy drip of precum dropping out of John's crotch.
"Want to crank up your balls a little?" John asks, staring Jim in the face.
"Maybe," Jim replied.
Taking it as a `yes', John began unscrewing the clamp on Jim's right nip.
"Oooooh, not too far," Jim said as the clamps tightened, initially his hand on John's curtailing the unscrewing of the tension device.
So as it stood, John and Jim stood there with their nips clamped, the chains taut between them as John turned up the flame, their balls to the boiling point, both moaning in ecstasy. John initiated it, his hand around Jim's cock, stroking as Jim returned the favor. As the stroking increased, John took the liberty of untightening the screws, making each of Jim's nip-clamps tighter and tighter. As both seemed to approach orgasm, Jim crying out in pleasure and pain, John removed one, then the other of Jim's clamps. Too much caught up in shooting his load onto John, John's load squirting upwards onto Jim's chest only to drip down, the two dropped their heads back and sighed deeply. As Jim's orgasm subsided he steadied himself, putting his hands on John's shoulders. As for John, he put his hands behind his head and continued his moan, slowly dropping the volume.
"Hey, you didn't take your clamps off?" Jim said of the screwless nip torture implements.
"Go ahead. Do it," John invited.
"You've already shot your load," Jim replied, his hand wiping the sweet cream deposited on his stomach. "It's gonna hurt like hell!"
"Yeah. I know," John returned, casting a smile.
But when Jim removed both at once from John's nips, he did cry out in pain, "Akkkkkkk," but also clamored, "Oh yeah.... oh yeah... oh fuckin' yeah!"
"Man, you're `way' ahead of me!" Jim said with a slight chuckle, returning John's smile.
John gave him even more reason to smile, bending over and licking his own precum off of Jim's hairy bod. What surprised Jim even more, one hand toyed with John's red-swollen nip while the other encouraged John to do a thorough cleansing!
%
NEW STORY: OLuFsEN & SONs /nifty/gay/adult-youth/olufsen-and-sons
Copyright 2008 T. Chase McPhee
This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.