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 89 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"This is how it's going to work..." Alex and Kyle remained attuned to Dr. Azayzeh's speech, "tomorrow morning around nine o'clock, a private ambulance will be stationed outside the emergency entrance to the hospital. Two EMT's will come for you. However, some of my staff will be here to assist in the transfer. I think," the doctor looks over the monitoring equipment, which hasn't been used, but there just in case, "none of this is necessary."
"What happens if Kyle `should' need medical attention?" Alex asks.
"One of the EMT's said he would not mind spending his entire weekend at the Karlyle estate. He also mentioned he had high hopes of hooking one of the hot models floating about!"
"I know. Such a temptation," Alex observes.
"What was that Alex?" Kyle gives him a `dirty look'.
"Oh, I meant for the EMT. Not me!"
"I hope so," Kyle broke out in a smile, one which would suggest knew Alex was putting him on.
Azayzeh butts in, "So I suggest you get a good night's rest?"
"It's only eight o'clock!" Kyle complains.
Meaning to be funny, Alex comments, "At home, at eight o'clock, the night is just beginning!"
The doc didn't laugh, but made a sound, "Hmm..."
"Don't mind Alex," Kyle tries to cover for him, "his plumbing is a little backed up!"
Trying to be serious, Alex confronts the doctor, "When do you think Kyle and me can like... you know?"
Azayzeh replies frankly, "Whenever Kyle can hold his feet up in the air without it hurting!"
It was the first time they heard Dr. Azayzeh laugh out loud, sort of a likeness of a hyena. He immediately vacated the room. They could hear him still being humored by his own joke when the door closed. Turning to each other, Kyle and Alex broke out in a laughing spell, brought on not by the joke, but Azayeh stepping out of his serious character.
"After I made sure the guys were all set with their luggage, I found a few minutes to relax, but couldn't."
"I don't know why Alex. You've been running around so much, plus taking care of me?"
Joking, but being sentimental, Alex replies, "Right, even so you've been such a pain in the ass!"
"You don't have to rub it in."
"Rub what in?"
"I really miss you being a `pain in the ass'?"
Alex had to admit it a good pun and ended it with a sweet kiss, wishing, "I hope you hurry up and get better. Your ass is no comparison to a handjob."
"Excuse me for asking, but has it been only your hand?"
"Um no. Sometimes it's been Michael's hand, sometimes Scotty. Oh but, Dante... man does he have a grip!"
Playing along, Kyle asks, "His hand or his ass?"
"Neither!" Alex replies, bending over the bed with some more smooching. "I'll call you when I get home." Leaving the hospital, he figured he would save Ellis a trip and take the subway, but as he left, an upturned palm made his decision for him, going back inside and flipping open his phone. While he chatted a few seconds with Ellis he looked outside. The few raindrops suddenly changed to an onslaught of teeming rain.
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"Whew! It's coming down out there like there's no tomorrow!"
"Don't worry about your feet," Carlos tells Gregg as he enters his father's market.
"I didn't want to make a mess." And lost for words, the police officer says, "Um, why don't you show me around?"
Carlos giggled, replying, "Oh now that sounds interesting!"
Gregg rubs his hands together, saying, "Yeah. Dumb huh?"
Thinking he might as well entertain Gregg's request, instead of shooting him down, Carlos tells him, "On second thought, our market could be different than where you shop." And away they went, Carlos explaining the check-out lanes; gum, candy, each cashier, telling how long they have been employed there, then on to the bakery section. "Here. It's on the house," he hands Gregg a donut.
With sarcasm, Gregg announces, "Wouldn't you know it? A cop's favorite dessert!"
"Oh sorry. I didn't get the connection. I didn't mean to...." Carlos started to apologize.
"Don't worry about it. I just hope this is not going to spoil your appetite. I've got quite an evening planned for us and some nice, gourmet food."
Carlos took a bite and then licked his lips before saying, "I hope it's not `too' fancy. Remember, I'm a starving music student!"
But it wasn't the only thing Gregg was thinking about. One, was him lining up where they were going tonight, not considering Carlos' feelings and the other was, "Um, you've got a little...." he signaled Carlos about the smigeon of icing stuck on Carlos' thinly-cropped stache.
"Oh," Carlos said. Talking over the counter he asks, "Manuel, you have a napkin?"
Gregg to the rescue, beats Manuel to it, "Never mind. I've got it!" He whips out a handkerchief and dabs at Carlos' sugary stache.
"Thanks!" Carlos replies, a grin on his face. "Maybe I can repay the favor someday!"
Even though he was twelve years older than Carlos, Gregg wasn't feeling his age. He seemed like a teen again, sensing Carlos as the perfect man for him. "You know I'm really glad you decided to call me," he said in a way which translated to `thanking' Carlos.
They began walking the floor.
"Well I figured if I didn't, you would track me down. You have my license plate number, right?"
"Actually," Gregg says with a smile, "I don't. I was going on a do or dare. Either you would call me or I'd lose you forever in the city."
"So, are you glad you didn't `lose' me?"
Gregg answers with, "How about we cut this tour short and head on out for our evening ahead?"
Winding their tour upfront, Carlos got on the store sound system, interrupted Shakira's `She-wolf' and called out, "Manuel to the front of the store."
"The bakery dude?" Gregg asks.
"Yeah. He could use the overtime, so he's covering for me. He's been with us as long as my father has owned the store."
As Carlos scouted out the direction from which Manuel would be coming, Gregg was checking Carlos out like a fine tooth comb.
Abruptly Carlos turned back to Gregg, snagging him, "So am I dressed appropriately for our night out?"
"Wait. You think I was checking you out?"
Gregg's question more or less incriminated himself.
Frankly, Carlos replies, "Were you?"
"You look very nice." And after Manuel took the keys from Carlos, the two leave, Gregg asking, "Do you always where a tie and dress shirt to work?"
Carlos says, "No. Usually I wear a white shirt which is almost transparent, unfastened down to the third button. Y'know so some hot guy can check me out?"
"Okay, so I was checking you out. Y'know I didn't have a chance to get much of a look at you when you were sitting in your car?"
Carlos laughed, as much as provoking Gregg, who fell for it, "What?"
"I was checking you out plenty. I mean, you were like standing there, waiting for me to unroll my window and I had no choice but to check out your uniform... At waist level? Are cops allowed to wear shirts that tight?"
"Tight? I'll have you know I workout at the gym 4/7!"
Wearing a shirt and tie too, Gregg asks, "Do you see any flab, mind you?" He straightened up his posture.
"It's tough to tell. Maybe your tee shirt is holding it in!"
Across the street from Central Park, Gregg gets zany, loosening his tie.
"What're you doing Gregg?"
"Proving to you I'm every ounce muscle and not `flab'!"
"You're crazy!" Carlos said, watching Gregg unbutton his dress shirt.
"Here, hold this," he said peeling it off over his shoulders.
Again Carlos accused him, "You're crazy man!"
However, Carlos wasn't minding at all, his eyes glued to Gregg's bod as he pulls his white tee out of his pants and strips it up, off, over his head.
The only thing attached to his upper bod was his tie, still neatly tied around his neck. Maybe Carlos thought he was crazy, but for passerby's Gregg held quite an audience for both sexes, whistles and calls from some guys, "Take it all off!"
"Okay, so I take it back, but at least I know what to say to get you to take your shirt off!"
"Oh really, well," Gregg replies, redressing himself, pulling his tee shirt over his head, "maybe later on you can think up a different way of getting my shirt off me!" He winked!
As they walked, Carlos asks, "So, is this part of your plans for us this evening?"
His mind percolating, five minutes prior to stripping in public, now lagged the pizzazz and luster of a comedian. Stopping in his steps, Gregg gently says, "All joking aside, I just want you to know I'm not the type to think of getting to know a guy to jump in the sack."
"Hmm," Carlos replies, "and how do you know I'm not?"
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Arriving in front of the building Kyle and he resided at, Alex made a mad dash for the door. Ellis' sidekick buzzed him in, but nothing would be quick enough to escape the early evening shower.
"Want a towel?" the guard asks.
"No thanks. I'm going to jump in the hot shower," Alex replied, his bod so chilled his tee shirt shone twin peaks. Not stopping to converse, he made a dash for the elevator. A key engaged, the door opened and he stepped inside. Less than a minute, the door was sliding open. "Hello! Anybody home?"
Nobody answered for a second, then he heard, "Oh hi Alex. Looks like it's raining pretty hard out there?"
It was Darryl Weismantle's visiting nurse, Colton Woods, who lately has over-exceeded his visitation responsibilities, on his own time.
And he knew Colton was paying more attention than eye contact, as Alex stripped off his tee shirt. He proceeded to wipe himself off with it. "Yeah. And cold too. I'm going to take a hot shower. Oh and how is Darryl progressing?"
"In my estimate, he should be able to take a walk outside, but mostly he's been pestering me to see the inside of a gym," the nineteen year old replies.
"Happens when you get to be an old man!"
"Hey, you wouldn't happen to know how old Darryl is? He would not let on. Says he's too old to mention his age," Colton said low-keyed, almost in a whisper, even though his patient was ten feet away and in another room.
"On second thoughts, I wouldn't call Darryl `old'. In fact, I hope when I hit thirty-five I look half as good!"
"Thirty-five is it? OMG!"
"Change your mind about..." Alex assumes they have something going.
Being it's his job and wants others to see them as patient and therapist, Colton replies, "It's strictly business, Alex. But for your information, it doesn't bother me Darryl is almost twice my age. I think older guys are cool."
"Hmm..." he sensed different, regarding a connection, reducing his comment to, "Excuse me for thinking there was something more going on between you and Darryl." Silence prevailing, Alex says, "Well I'm going to hit the shower and watch some Tv."
Colton, who was supposed to be gone by now, strayed back to Darryl's room.
On his face, walking in the opposite direction, hiking up the stairs to the loft, Alex quietly voice his opinion to himself, "Yeah right!"
The wooden stairway led right into the room, however purposely positioned, the bed stood clear away from it or from downstairs onlookers. Alex slipped his sneakers off, depositing each one at the foot of the bed. "Oops!" he said, remembering how Kyle always picked them up and placed them in the closet, so he bent over and did it. Next, he unbuckled his belt, unzipped and step out of his pants. At home, in Pennsylvania, in his own room, he would hang them over a chair, but now, through Kyle's neatness, Alex at least found a hook in the closet. Coming out of the walk-in closet, a hand juggled his nuts like he was feeling up his bulging briefs. Walking to the personal jon, he smiled, thinking about Dr. Azayzeh laughing. It made him laugh as he thought about it, Kyle with his feet up in the air! Stripping off his briefs, he found himself with a partial erection. Trying to be `good', for the past ten days or so he's tried to hold off on the
orgasms, but thinking of the incident at the hospital, Alex began to let his imagination run wild. "Mmm-uh!" he said, like he smelled the aroma of a freshly cooked pizza. He slowly stroked up his flaccidity. "Oh man Kyle!" he exclaimed. Eyes shut, he thought of his imaginings, representative of an outer body experience. There he was, kneeling on the bed, his bod edging closer to Kyle's ass. "Oh yeah!" He stroked harder, thinking of inserting it. With hand wrapped around his shaft, Alex began to beat more furious. "Oh yeah... oh yeah... oh yeah! Oh fuck yeah!" It didn't take long and more than a week's worth cum began to spurt out a fountain of white ropes, one after the other. Bending over, his arm rested on the vanity, his forehead on his arm, looking at himself. After he had squeezed the last drop of cream out, he dropped his hand. Breathing, catching up on his cardio-reaction, Alex closed his eyes. Then, when he began to breate
normal, he opened them. "Oh shit! Kyle's gonna kill me!" he said of the cum-shots, soaking the pink rug and hosing the front down of the vanity.
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"Damn it!"
Crosstown, Kyle was thinking up the same substitute, but found he could only make himself erect. Slowly clenching his jerking tool with a circular thumb and index finger was about all he could manage without causing himself some grief from his badly fractured rib. Anything above moaning brought on pain, because to accelerate his emotions he had to pump more furiously and that was the dilemma.
"Why did I..." he started to blame himself for going to his brother's aid. Then he stopped stroking. In many ways the mood wasn't right. Main focus, Alex wasn't there in the literal, flesh. Secondly, his thoughts turning to Knapp threw his mind off balance. Here he realized the sacrifice he made. It was his intention to keep his brother from being used as a punching bag, but never had a clue he would wind up with injury when he tried to choke the living daylights out of Knapp's attacker. So, for the moment Kyle's brain strayed from Alex's thoughts, which made what he had built up, at least hard, but not the guns behind the emotions which causes a man's nads to act as the force behind the power of a major eruption.
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Back at the condo in the sky, little did Alex know Kyle was toying with himself. Lying there in bed, naked, Alex picked up his cock and held it between thumb and finger. He let go. It keeled over onto his pubes, the head bouncing off the spot where treasure trail meets forest.
"Ha..ha..ha....ha...ha!" he giggled to himself.
Then it became a game. Lift off', then floundering'.
"Don't I have better things to do?" he questioned himself, winding up toying with his softness.
Jumping out of the sack, Alex checked the two sports bags he packed. "Damn!" He scratched his head. Thinking out loud, "Kyle's not going to need all these clothes!" It then got Alex to thinking of what Kyle was going to be clothed in. He figured hospital garb, so put his mind at ease. He then turned around and found himself by himself and so alone. There was nothing to do.
Snapping his fingers he voiced out loud, "I've got it!"
Downstairs everything was quiet as a church. Out for the evening, Dante had talked Michael and Scotty into going clubbing. Of course Alex, the `mother hen' warned them of not whooping it up too much, reason being they needed to head out early for the Hamptons. He knew Scotty would serve as chaperone more or less, keeping Michael and Dante in line, from drinking too much and making sure they were home at a decent hour. But right now, as the clock ticked away, Alex didn't realize how quick he paced his evening. "Did it take me only an hour to jerk off, shower and..." he again giggled when he said, "play with myself?"
Finding himself in the kitchen, he opted out of the `pizza from hell', leftover from two nights ago. Instead he had an apple. Chewing away he looked around the kitchen. It was empty, Alex thinking like his home-life right now. "I better find something to do!"
Of course, first thing to come to mind was the dvd Michael and Scotty rented. Grabbing the case for Shelter', he opened it. "What the hell?" Inside was Trick'. "Oh well. Doesn't matter. The guys are still hot anyway," he made comment to himself, prying it out of the holder. He popped it in and got comfy. Two minutes beyond the credits he was bored. After all he's seen `Trick' more than once and even though he thought some of the scenes hot enough to watch over and over, boredom set in. Flicking everything off, he sat there, exhaling, a sigh of his brain falling asleep.
Looking across the room, he saw something which caused him to sit up. Rising, he walked across the room. "I wondered who had these last!" He extracted from between the arm and cushion of a chair his very first pair of briefs he created, his first stab at altering a regular pair of briefs, adding the front pouch. He held it up, allowing it to dangle in front of him. Something went off in his head and he tore out of the entertainment room and headed for the spare room, the one Kyle had designated for his `workshop'.
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"Full?"
"An understatement," Carlos replied to Gregg.
And when the waiter brought the check, Carlos went for his wallet, but Gregg said, "Oh no. This is on me. You can get the next one."
Throughout their two hour-plus dinner, the two had covered much territory. Gregg was attentive to Carlos telling about his family, the market, the new friends he found, Gregg very interested in the goings on at the townhouse.
In turn, Gregg answered questions regarding why he wanted to be a cop, when he came to inherit quite a sum of money. He also told of the falling out he had with his father and realized him leaving all his worth, was his father's way of saying he loved him. "It kind of hurt me."
"In what way?" Carlos asks.
"I wish he could have communicated it to me. It would have meant much more hearing my father say it," Gregg responded.
"I suppose." Then Carlos turned to his own coming out experience, "My father was okay with it from the start. He even went on to say if my mother were alive she would be proud of me. I wasn't sure if he meant for being gay or because of the trumpet, but I took it as both. Then he gave me a big hug and told me he loved me."
"You are so lucky," Gregg said, lingering as he stare into Carlos' eyes.
"Are we having dessert?"
"Can you fit anything more in your stomach?" Gregg joked.
"It wouldn't hurt to order a donut?"
Gregg was quick to return the gauche rebuke, "A high-falutin' joint like this doesn't have on hand donuts!"
They again connected, eyes to eyes, then the following smile, which acted as if communicating without words.
Carlos asks, "Remember when you stripped your shirt off on the street?"
Acting like he lost his memory, Gregg replies, "Um, like two hours ago? Long time you know for an old man? Yeah, I remember. So?" He figured there was more to this.
"Tell me if I'm wrong, but I don't think we should allow too much time to go by before you get to see `my flab'?"
Gregg, without hesitation says, "My place or yours?"
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"Time to go. Where's Dante?" Scotty informed Michael, yelling it into his ear.
Michael shrugged his shoulders.
Five minutes ago Dante was in sight, talking with some guy at the bar. Now he had disappeared into the neon-lighted crowd, dancing their asses off.
"Great! Alex is going to be pissed if we show up late and...."
"Hey dudes!"
"Dante! I'm so glad to see you I could kiss you!" Michael announces upon seeing their shirtless housemate.
"As long as you're offering!"
Scotty knew Dante had too much to drink, because from the time they arrived till the stroke of midnight, Dante had been standing at the bar with one particular guy. He thought it no problem watching Dante crash his bod into Michael's bare chest, hugging him like a bear. But then lingering too long, especially when Dante began to thrust his torso forwards and backwards, he acted as referee, "Okay you guys. That's enough `horseplay'!"
Michael thought he was serious, saying, "He was only fooling around, Scotty."
And using Kyle's phrase, Scotty remarks, "Don't get your balls twisted up. I know!"
"Balls twisted up?" Dante inquires, a wry smile on his face, his hand venturing down his own pants.
"Figure of speech," Scotty replies, pulling Dante's hand out of his pants. "C'mon. Time to go or Alex is going to get pissed off at us."
They wade through the crowd and make their exit, Dante and Michael immediately covering their sweat-soaked bods.
"Who made Alex in charge anyway?" Dante asks sarcastically as he smooths his shirt over his abs.
A simple reply, Scotty tells him, "Don't bite the hand that feeds you."
Dante is quick to reply, "But Alex doesn't pay for anything. Kyle's the one who...."
"Yeah and if you get Alex pissed off, who do you think is going to hear about it?"
"Oh," is all Dante could resort to, knowing the score.
"So who was that dude at the bar you were talking to all night, Dante?" Michael asks.
"Just some guy," Dante replies, trailing off his answer.
Scotty knew better. "Did you get his number?"
"Maybe."
Michael took it as a `yes' and shouted out, "Cool!" and gave Dante a hi-5. "So, what's his name?"
And it became the focus of their trip home in the cab, Michael acting as the interrogator and Dante the interrogated, answering two questions which came rapid-fired, "His name is Cadel and he's a model."
"Cool! Is he like doing any modeling for any companies?"
Dante fills Michael in as Scotty listens, "He's new. He's only eighteen and has a photo shoot this weekend."
Scotty was wise to Dante containing his excitement, but Michael was in the dark.
That is until Dante burst out with the info, "And the photo shoot just happens to be in the Hamptons!"
"Wha? Hey, we're going to be in the East Hampton this weekend. Maybe we'll be seeing each other!" Michael exclaims.
"I can't believe you're not getting it?"
"Getting what?" Michael quizzes his lover.
Scotty replies, "Dante and his model friend are going to be at the Cayman Karlyle party."
"Really? Cool!" Michael says with unbearable excitement.
Scotty rolls his eyes and smiles to himself. Thinking, he admits to himself wordless thoughts, `He's so cute!' It's then he notices something.
"Oh! Sorry!" Dante says when Scotty catches his hand sliding down Michael's thigh.
"You better be," Scotty replies, breaking the straight-faced facade, sticking his tongue out at Dante.
They all laughed.
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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.....