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 68 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"Why the sad face, Alex?"
"I just got off the phone with Bill Miller."
"And?"
"Seems the coffee bean is finished. The owners aren't salvaging what's left. Seems like the Coffee Bean II is becoming the Coffee Bean I." But then Alex sobers up, "But Bill also says they plan on opening a Coffee Bean in New Jersey if I'm interested. What do you think?"
"Alex. Forget about the Coffee Bean," Kyle tried consoling him.
"But I was on the verge of becoming manager. They're offering me a manager position of the new Coffee Bean. Bill Miller says they might open others. I could work my way up to district manager!"
"Alex," Kyle says seriously, "why are you even wasting your time thinking about it?"
"Wasting my time?" Alex says adamantly, an ounce of anger integrated, "This is `my' future we're talking about!"
"Your future?" Kyle counteracts his interests, "Your future is in fashion or did you forget about that?"
"I dunno. Maybe I would do better..."
Kyle takes the upper hand, "You'll do better designing briefs," and then... "Alex you have such good ideas and you're so talented. You know what you're problem is?"
"Me? I've got a problem?"
"Yeah. You're settling for something you're successful at now, but what happens ten years from now when you had wished you followed through on your dream? Have you even forgotten at one time you had a dream?"
"I know, but things change."
And then, quite emotional, Kyle says, pounding his finger into Alex's chest, "And things better change back, Alex. This is not' the guy who I met. The Alex' I fell in love with had more on his mind than coffee and donuts. Have you forgotten about why your high school classmates would part with $50 for a skimpy pair of briefs?"
"Um, I guess..."
"Because they `said something'. They were an innovative idea. Who would have thought a guy's crotch would feel more comfortable having it's own little pouch for their cock and balls?"
"Um, it only was for their cock."
"Well think about it Alex. It's not the `only' big part of the human anatomy!"
"I don't know," Alex says, dropping his ass into the sofa.
"Well I do. Up until now you've come up with a lot of the answers, but now I'm putting my foot down. You're going to the Fashion Institute this fall and you're going to study and eventually turn into the world's best fashion designer!"
"But I need a job to..."
"And that's another thing," Kyle went on, all strung up and high-wired, "you're going to accept the generosity of me paying for your tuition and anything else you might need and you better get it through your head it's not just my' money, it's ours', that is if you still love me and want to stick around!"
The last part is what grabbed Alex's attention the most, "Of course I want to stick around. How could you even suggest..."
"I'm sorry," Kyle says, dropping his ass down next to Alex. "I knew I shouldn't have gone there. I know you love me, but there's one thing you're frustrating the hell out of me with."
"What's that?"
"Like I said Alex. What's mine is yours and..."
"What happens if I find another boyfriend?"
"Alex, are you planning on finding another boyfriend?"
"No," Alex says innocently, but with conviction.
"Then don't even think about it. As far as I'm concerned, you're it." Then calming a bit, "I'm stuck with you and you're stuck with me."
"Well I wouldn't put it `that' way!"
"Can we make a compromise here?"
"Sure," Alex replied, tired of all this baloney.
"Can you promise me you won't try to find a job, unless it has to do with the fashion industry and that it won't take away from your studies, until you graduate?"
"I suppose that's liberal enough thinking."
"And one more promise?"
"What?"
"If you do find another boyfriend, you'll let me down easy?"
"No."
"No?"
"No, because I think it's more about trust. You have to trust that I'm not going to find another boyfriend. Anyway, how did we get started on such a stupid subject?"
With their differences winding down, the two started to meld back into their normal selves.
"So, you say there should be a second pocket in my briefs?"
"With your endowment, Alex, I think there should be a parking garage!"
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"So. How long have you been living in this `box', Geoff?" Swifty asks, picking through an Advocate magazine.
"Two and half, maybe three years. Kind of homey don't you think?"
"Depends on `who' you have to share it with."
Delving out the pan of eggs onto two plates of buttered toast, Geoff confesses, "Frankly it's been a rather lonely existence."
"A good looking bear like you? I'd think the cubs would be coming out of the woods and chasing you...."
"Nah. I'm not like a lot of gay men. I'm not into the sex-factory scene."
"And what is it you're looking for Geoff?"
With a quick analysis of where this was leading, Geoff replies, "Same thing you are!"
"Looks good," Swifty says when Geoff places a plate of breakfast in front of him.
"All it takes is following a recipe in a cookbook and a little TLC!"
Before Geoff gets away, Swifty latches a hand onto his Bear Boxers, "How about adding some more TLC?"
Taking the hint, Geoff lowers his head and zeroes in on Swifty's head as he looks up. While one hand is caressing the back of his head, the other is brushing over Swifty's chest. He stops suddenly to inform, "Next time you come to the breakfast table, Swif, shower all this `grime' off?"
"Oh. I didn't know there was going to be a next time. Is there?"
"If you didn't get the meaning, it was more than an invitation."
From there, their breakfast conversation was drawn from relationships, Geoff telling of how he thought it meaningless when his model-friend mentioned going to `Bear's Night' Dependable Dating at the Gay Pride Center.
"But Pablo? He's no bear! He's like as smooth as a cucumber!"
"Yeah, but have you seen his `cucumber'!"
Swifty joked back, "No. `Haven't seen it outside the tunnel, but one could tell..."
Then this led to, "I suppose your friend, what's-'is-name, Noah?"
"Neil."
"That's it. Neil, I suppose he's quite familiar with what Pablo's packin'."
It left Swifty silent for a moment of reflection.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have mentioned it maybe," Geoff said in apology.
"Nah." Then looking to Geoff, a little smile on his face, the twenty-five year old states, "Neil was `much' too smooth for me," and swiping his fingertips down his own middle, "all Neil had was this thin little fuzzy trail."
"Oh so," Geoff replies, wiping his mouth with his napkin and pushing his empty plate away from him, "you like bears?"
"Yeah, especially ones with egg all over their chest!"
"Ohhhh I'm such a slob!" Geoff says of himself, looking down his forest of dark brown chest fur.
"No," Swifty says when Geoff goes to pick it out. "Allow me."
Instead of Geoff pushing himself out from the table, unaware of Swifty's playfulness, its' Swifty who pushed the table away as he mounted Geoff's lap, his thighs outside Geoff's, sitting down, his crotch hitting against Geoff's crotch. Right away he set about to tongue over the bits of egg caught in the nooks and crannies of Geoff's hair. Same time, Geoff's hands went to work pawing at Swifty's chest, running his hands over the hair, not as thick as his, finding two pec-spots.
"Ohhhhhhh," Swifty yodeled when Geoff grabbed hold of both nips and gave them a little mash. "Getting even are we?"
"No. If I wanted to get even, I'd have to do this!"
"Owwww...owww....owww...leggo!"
It was half serious and halfway up to the decibels of high-pitched laughter, Swifty saying over and over, "Stop! No, don't stop! No, stop!" etcetera, as Geoff got a giggle out of Swifty's humor.
Geoff stopped when he felt something stabbing his crotch. "You're getting off on this, aren't you?"
"And you wouldn't?" Swifty said, immediately attacking Geoff's nips.
Then it became a standoff, each yelping when the squeezing became too intense, sighing with pleasure when nips were lightly mashed, reverting to the painful expression when the pressure was applied.
"I give up," Geoff finally admits, disengaging his fingers and leaning back in his chair.
Swifty sat there, and instead of his hands being on Geoff's hairy pecs, they sank down into his cock-pocket.
"Not too much or I'll have to think about drenching you again!"
"What? And make me stink even more?"
"Unless?" Then as a ploy to get Swifty from the kitchen to the bedroom, "How about that shower?"
Before their playfulness had led to Geoff lying there, Swifty pulling out just in time to seed his bod, now it was Swifty with his legs in the air. "The beauty of versatility!" Geoff makes comment as he takes his hefty shaft and lines it up with Swifty's hole.
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"Oh by the way, Swifty left me a little present yesterday."
"What are those for?" Alex asks about the two shiny, silver keys dangling from Kyle's hand.
"Swifty said anytime I wanted to check out the Chelsea residence, help myself?"
Alex grabbed hold of Kyle's hint, "With only roughly a week to find a place, maybe we should go have a look."
It took the two forever to get ready, a kissing break at the top of the stairs, bods passing in and out of the shower like two ships passing in the night, the closeness causing the two to pass in slow motion, then as Alex shaved, Kyle smooshes his wet bod up against Alex's back.
"Almost made me cut myself!"
Reaching down Alex's front, Kyle says, "Almost made you hard too!"
Staring in the mirror, it was almost like looking at himself, only he cast his eyes over his shoulder. "Yeah, but I think I need more than an hour to replenish the reserves."
"Take all the time you need, just as long as you're all primed for tonight?" Kyle slapped Alex's barebutt before exiting.
Alex followed Kyle's butt as he left the jon. While dressing, he asks Kyle, "Have you seen my brown A&F shirt?"
"Remember Scotty was doing up some laundry of his yesterday and asked if anyone else needed anything done?"
"Gotcha!" Alex said, taking the spiral stairs as if he stood in one place and did pirouettes.
Kyle smiled to himself. Here Alex had a drawer full of tee shirts and he `had' to have his brown one.
After a `ding', Kyle hears Alex yell, "I'll get it!" When he opens the door a cop is standing there. "Uh-oh what'd I do?"
The `cop' caught the last little glimpse of Alex pulling his tee shirt down over his stomach.
"Kind of tight," Alex says. "It was in the dryer," he explained, covering the uniform's reason for checking out his abs-trail.
"Happens to me occasionally."
Alex wondered what `his' abs looked like!
"What's up?" Kyle asks, appearing before them.
"Hi. Are you Kyle?"
"Uh. Yeah," Kyle replies.
"I was told to give you these and add, `no charge'? Uncle Swif said you would know what it meant."
"Uncle Swif?" Alex questions. "Like in `Swifty Sinkler'?"
The `uniform' replies, "Yeah. Uncle Steven, but I've kind of gone the way the consensous has, in name-calling." He laughed.
Kyle and Alex giggled along. Apparently the same condition afflicted the nephew, as well as the uncle, laughter which spread like an epidemic.
"I have to be going."
Alex inquires, "So you work with Raul?"
"Uncle Swif's friend downtown?"
"He's not NYPD, Alex."
"Oh! Oh yeah," Alex then notices the patch on the side of the uniform, his hand pulling on the sleeve to see it better. He then realizes he doesn't even know the guy and maybe shouldn't have touched' him. "Sorry bout that."
"On the contrary. You can touch me all you want!"
They all laughed their asses off, Alex thinking Swifty's nephew a chip off the old block.
After spotting the word `security' on the shoulder, Alex chats him up, "So, where are you security at, um..." he fished for a name.
"Chelsea Arms, Uncle swif's apartment building over in Chelsea."
It then dawns on Kyle they haven't been introduced. The capital E' before the Sinkler' gave him a lead in, "What does the `E' stand for?" he touches the little brass plate.
"Oh gosh, I forgot about myself... Ellis and I know you're Kyle, but..."
"He's Alex," Kyle throws his thumb to the left.
"So you two like... um...."
"Yeah," Alex replies, "we are!"
"Cool." Then seeing he wasn't going to make any time with either, Ellis says, "I better head back."
"Nice to meet you Ellis," Alex said as Ellis left.
"Same here, Alex. See ya Kyle."
After the door was closed, Kyle says to Alex, "If eyes could touch, Ellis' would be all over you!"
"You think?"
"Maybe I never mentioned it, but when I first met you I had the same thoughts."
"Of?"
"You may be French, but you're the image of a Greek god!"
"Oh really?" Alex says, butting his front up to Kyle's. "You keep talking like that and you'll have my balls filled before noontime!"
"Mmmmmm," Kyle replies.
But then thoughts strayed when Kyle spied the keys to the penthouse apartment on the dresser.
"Yeah," Alex said, "I guess we better get this over with."
Kyle suggests, "You could always dump two loads later?"
"Now there's a thought!" Alex replied, pulling on his jeans.
So, on another joyous ride through the city Alex held on as Kyle wove through traffic.
"Is this the right address?" Kyle asked, looking up at the apartment building which seemed to zoom up to the clouds.
"That's what it says here," Alex replied, looking at the paper in his hand. "Chelsea Arms."
"Now why does that sound familiar?" Kyle looks to Alex.
"I wonder," Alex replies.
And it was no surprise when they walked in the front door, the two confronting Ellis on the other side of the locked security door. Before Kyle could get the key up to the hole, Ellis was welcoming them, "Long time no see!"
Alex and Kyle laughed along with him.
"You could have waited to give us the papers, maybe?" Alex asked.
"No problem. I was passing by your place. Besides Uncle Swif thought maybe you would like time to look the papers over."
"Oh was I supposed to sign something?" Kyle asks, figiting with the white envelope Ellis had dropped off.
"I'm not sure," Ellis replied.
Both Alex and Kyle grinned when Kyle felt Ellis' hand on his right shoulder, Alex feeling a hand on his left, Ellis' head between the two, eavesdropping on the papers from the envelope.
"What is this?" Kyle asks, looking at the back, then the front again.
"Looks like a bill of sale," Alex clues him in.
"Certificate of ownership," Ellis points out the print midway in the document.
"Hmm," Kyle mulled over the papers as Ellis hung like a leech from Alex's shoulder.
Alex smiled, his attention on the hand perched on his upper right side as Ellis buried his nose in Kyle's paper.
"There doesn't seem to be any mention of money. What do you think?" Kyle asks.
Ellis tells him, "I wouldn't put it past Uncle Swif."
"Like what?" Alex asks, missing something.
"He probably figured he didn't pay a dime for it, so he's not charging you."
"Wait. Can you back up a minute here, Ellis?"
Alex was curious also.
Ellis left them in the dark, "Maybe he didn't want you to know."
Coercing the information, Alex played Ellis' game and put his hand over Ellis' shoulder. "Didn't want us to know what, Ellis?"
Maybe Alex wasn't feeling much electricity, but the twenty-two year old security guard was feeling plenty. "Poker game. About a month ago. Uncle Swif won it fair and square."
"Won it?" Kyle gulped. "Must've been high stakes." Both knew the penthouse apartment to be up there, several zeroes added to the end of the price tag.
"Oh you better believe it. Yeah," he laughed, "some poor sucker lost $27,000,000 in real estate to Uncle Swif!"
Kyle was sort of shocked, but Alex went off the deep end, "You mean like twenty-seven, zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero?" he counted on his fingers.
"Yeah. Uncle Swif said the guy was livid. The guy thought he was going to win and then Uncle Swif laid down his cards and the rest was history."
Ellis was laughing his ass off at the guy's misery, praising his uncle, putting him up there with all the other card sharks.
"It wasn't Donald Trump was it?" Alex inquires.
"Nah. That chef guy who's on Tv... um, what's-is-name..." Ellis tried naming him.
"Not Tyler Florence?" Alex asks.
Kyle nudged him, knowing Alex had the hots for the Tv chef.
"No. Some Danish dude."
"Not van Oijen?" Kyle takes a wild guess.
"That's him!" Ellis exclaims, pointing his finger like a gun.
"Wow!" Kyle replied. Then his thoughts turned grimmer, "I wonder if..." but he didn't leave his opinion, wondering if the night van Oijen lost his lux apartment in the poker game, if he took his rage out on Neil.
"Wonder what?" Ellis asks.
"It's not important." Then to quickly divert attention, "So, when can we see it?"
All the way up the elevator chute, Ellis talked about how confident the other guy' was and how his Uncle Swif' laughed off the other guy being so pissed, when he was so confident he was going to win.
However, neither Alex nor Kyle listened to a single word after the elevator opened, not to a hallway, but a direct route inside the lux apartment.
"Is... is this like `it'?" Alex asks, walking out slowly and standing in awe.
"Awesome!" Kyle tells of his astonishment, seeing the cutaway second floor. "Another loft!"
"More than one," Ellis tells them as he takes the lead to be their guide.
Walking under an archway, the second room also sports a stairway and the continuation of the cut out second floor. Taking the stairs, he leads them upwards, explaining, "The master bedroom is up here and off to your left," he points, "is the hot tub. This is accessible from the bedroom or a stairway on the other side, so guests don't have to pass through your private room to get to the hot tub or pool."
"Pool? On top of a building?"
"You don't think those six zeroes are for nothing, do you?"
The two were overwhelmed to say the least. In addition to the rather expansive bedroom, private bath and the accessibility to the hot tub and pool area, their `floor' sported a modest kitchenette and a jon with a private jacuzzi. Even when Ellis toured the lesser sleeping quarters the two didn't see much difference in room size from their own quarters, the second floor loft, of which Kyle and Alex had already claimed as theirs.
"I just noticed something," Alex brought attention to the furnishings. "When is your uncle moving out?"
"Moving out? He doesn't live here," Ellis informed them.
"But the beds? The livingroom grouping?" Kyle questioned.
"He didn't say anything about it. Hmm..." Ellis thought on it, "let me give uncle a call."
"There's got to be a catch."
"To what Alex?"
"Nobody, even if they're filthy rich gives' a twenty-seven million dollar pad away without something' up their sleeve."
"Ummm, I was kind of thinking the same thing," Kyle agreed.
"i mean look at this place; whitewashed walls, stucco-ed to perfection, fireplace to boot, completely furnished? No. Swifty's got to have an angle to us staying here."
Kyle comes out with, "Maybe he'll be wanting us to host a twinkie party?"
"Kyle, I'm being serious?"
"Okay Alex. Sorry. I guess I let my imagination runaway sometimes."
After a long pause, Alex asks, "I wonder how many twinks can fit in this room?"
After brief laughter, Kyle notes, "Maybe we can break a Guiness world record!"
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"Hmm, so what do they film here? Soap operas?" Vince asks Desmond, upon entering the backstage theater door.
"Oh much more," Desmond says as his eyes shift about, like searching for signs of life.
"Oh now isn't this just dandy!"
On a table, Vince picks up a wad of photographs. "Mmm, somebody has good tastes!" First he stares at one picture, a teen or college age stud, lying on a bed, a blond guy between his legs, sucking him off. "Hmm, wouldn't mind him sucking me off!" He laughed but didn't realize some seedy characters drifting in.
It's then, behind his back he hears Desmond's voice, "Here's the guy I was telling you about."
Turning around Vince faces not only Desmond, but three others. One of them Desmond carries on conversation, "So how do you like him? Will he work for you?"
Setting the pictures down, Vince asks, "Desmond, what is this about?" Suddenly there's a pang in the pit of Vince's stomach, him realizing other than Desmond and the bearded guy he's in the prescense of two `thug-looking' guys on his right and left flank.
Instead of Desmond responding, the bearded one walks up to Vince and tells him, "How would you like to be in the movies?"
"Movies?" Vince responded over the bearded guys, shoulder, his attention keyed in on the man he called his `friend', "What's he talking about Desmond?"
Instead of a rational answer, Desmond cooly cautions, "It'll be better for you if you just cooperate Vince."
"Cooperate?" Vince asks, still in a stunned mode.
Then, addressing Desmond, but not looking at him, the bearded guy says, "Your check is in the mail Desmond. Now scram!"
"Hey, what is this?" Vince finally realises the implications, Desmond suddenly turning cold on him.
It didn't really tick him off as much as the bearded dude feeling up Vince's chest, reporting, "Mmm, nice pecs," he feels through Vince's shirt.
In response, Vince slaps the `beards' arm away. He didn't like at all what was going down, but especially the two tee-shirted bulky guys waiting in the wings only a few feet away from him and the chunky bearded dude in front of him freely taking advantage of him.
He especially got worried when the beard' said to his henchmen, "Boys, why don't you show Vince here why' he `should be' cooperating?"
Looking about, Vince saw a lighted exit sign to the side, the side which wasn't blocked by any obstruction, mainly people. He ran. He took a leap for the bar across the door. It didn't budge. "Oh shit!" He yelled out.
`Oh shit' was right, as one of the bulky dudes grabs Vince's arms, applies a full nelson to Vince's bod. As if opening a door, he coaxes Vince around, his step as pliable as hinges. Waiting for him is the other guy, a tatooed dude with two hefty fists ready to deal out Vince's lesson.
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Copyright 2009 T. Chase McPhee
This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.
The more you stretch, the more you can fit in... 'spread' happiness! TCMcP.....