You know the drill: The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons, of continents or islands, in countries, counties, cities, towns, villages, neighborhoods, streets, cul-de-sacs, nor governmental or non-governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then why are you here? Seriously, if guy-to-guy sex stuff makes you barf or is going to screw up your mind, you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most states and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such.
% Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection.
FoR SaLE By OwNEr: CK's STuD MuFFiN PaRTy 07 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
%
"Catching up on the news Vince?"
"Uh, no," he replies, jumping to attention after leaning against a massive column, a pillar to which the hefty stone wall abutted. "Never any good news in the paper?" Vince Maselli tried weaseling his way out of being off-on-guard duty.
"What paper are you reading?" Geoff asks, reaching behind Vince's back to retrieve the periodical.
"Um, entertainment section?" Vince says as Geoff raises eyebrows.
"Nice front page," he says of the cover of DNA magazine.
"Better centerfold," Vince replies, hoping to throw Geoff further off targeting him as irresponsible in his duties.
Geoff took the bait, but how he hated to skip over the sandwich between front wrap and midsection. Then hearing Vince giggle, he closes it all together, saying, "I'm going to have to confiscate this due to dereliction of duty Vince!"
"Am I getting it back?"
"When I fill my scrapbook! Where's your cohort?"
"Where you appointed him," and Vince tells this in a sexy tone, "rear gatekeeper?"
"You wish!" Geoff replies.
"Uh-oh," Vince says, "time to spring into action," he informs Geoff, moving him aside with his arm.
Geoff didn't mind at all for a change, not having to inforce the law, Vince approaching the undressed couple, trying to 'hide it' behind a bush. But he did follow in pursuit!
"Hey you two?"
As Vince's arms parted the greenery, like a star stepping out from behind a curtain, revealing their act to the audience, he came upon something which shocked him. Geoff too showed surprise, the two saying out loud, "Michael?"
"Oh hi guys!" Michael says, getting up off his knees and brushing dirt off his hands. And before either can incriminate him, "Hey, you guys, have you met Olav?"
"Hi," Olav says, pulling up his speedo and parking his hefty goods back inside.
Geoff tells him nicely, "And that's where they should be at all times when outdoors, Olav?"
"I will keep them there," the Scandinavian replies.
"So, what's this about Michael?" Vince turns towards a more personal note.
Olav says, "I will see you back at the pool Michael."
"Sorry to break up Olav's little... or should I say 'big' blowjob?" Vince replies.
"No problem. Olav'll probably stop at the jon on his way to pool and finish up. So, what's up guys?"
First Vince tells Geoff, "I think I have this under control."
"Control? It's not 'you' I'm worried about Vince?" Then, in a caring, but accusational tone, "What do you think Scotti would say about you giving another guy a blowjob Michael?"
"On second thoughts," Vince says, seeing he's loosing ground with Michael, "I'll be heading back to my post."
Geoff calls out, "And oh Vince?"
"Yeah?"
Taking the rolled up magazine out of his back pocket, "Don't forget this!" He tosses it to him.
"Thanks. I'll try to pace myself. I'll look at the pictures and forget the reading!"
Geoff smirked, but wanted to get on with Michael's infraction. "You know I have a good mind to expell you from the premises, Michael?"
"Can I maybe bribe you with a blowjob Geoff?"
"Michael, this is serious. Did you read the pages I gave you from the security manual?"
"A little," Michael says. "I guess I must've lost track and skipped over the part of... about giving a guy a blowjob outside?"
"Use common sense Michael," Geoff retorts. "If a guy is supposed to, at all times, be wearing something to cover his loins, then when is it okay to bare his lower anatomy when out of doors?"
"Okay. So you snagged me."
"Part one out of the way," Geoff says, escorting Michael back to 'civilization', the two exiting the woods at the north tennis courts. "Now the part about Scotti? I thought you two had some strong bonds?"
"We did... do... I mean... yeah, it's good between us," Michael replies, not sure what he's actually driving at.
As they walk past the tennis courts, one of the four is in use, their minds drifting to the four players. Unlike some of the pleasures at the Cayman Karlyle estate, some required more than just speedos.
Michael says, "I wonder where he got the orange sneakers?"
Geoff replies, "I wonder what you're going to tell Scotti?"
"I don't know, Geoff."
Seeing Michael serious, the humorous side wearing off, he invites him, "C'mon. Sit here a minute."
Michael sits down, crosses his leg over the other knee and starts looking at the bottom of his foot. "I think I got something in it."
And for a moment, Geoff lost track of the conversation, looking over at the tennis court, directly in line of sight. "Excuse me a moment Michael."
Michael still toyed between his toes, but stopped and watched Geoff spring into action.
Walking up to the in-progress tennis game, which had halted for two minutes and resumed, Geoff swings his arms around and calls, "Time out fellas! Time out!" In the process he almost got hit broadside by a tennis ball, catching it after it bounces off the chain fence.
"What's up?" One of the four models, Philip Johnston, says, bouncing a fresh tennis ball from his pocket on the court and catching it.
"That bush over there, is what's up," Geoff tells them as he nods to the side of the court, beyond the mesh fence. "Which one of you took it upon yourself to irrigate it?"
Three players immediately singled out the fourth for doing the criminal act.
"Kostas? Do you mind stepping outside the court for a second?"
Even though the others played a fair game with Kostas, they all knew how much he was into himself and wondered if he would give Geoff a hard time with peeing on the bush, rather than the effort taken to seek out the jon.
In the meantime, Michael had walked over to the fence, and doing something he's often done to a chainlink fence which was much higher than his five feet, ten inch height, jumped up, grabbing higher than he could reach and let his bod lean against it, his toes two inches from touching ground. Only thing different with then and now, he was barechested, which drew different sensations. Slowly he watched as one of the players, the one bouncing the ball, walks over.
"You're pretty good at that," Michael says.
"You too," he replies.
"What's your name? I'm Michael."
"Philip Johnston," Philip replies, still bouncing the tennis ball.
"Are you a model?"
"Do I look like a model?"
"Well you're very good looking Philip, so if you're not, I think you should march right in the main house, and tell Tom Space you want to see Cayman and then see if you can be one!"
"You know Tom and Cayman?" Philip asks.
Then Michael deviated from the conversation to say, "Is there enough room in there?"
Philip laughs. "Yeah. It's kind of been a habit of mine since high school days."
Michael watches as Philip reaches inside his speedo and pulls out the tennis ball. "Is there a reason for it other to make it look like you have three balls?"
"Saves going to the side for a spare. Say, that looks like fun," Philip says. Dropping the ball and racket, he takes a leap up onto the fence, his hands almost at the position Michael's are clasping.
"Oh-h-h-h," Michael says when Philip's bod bounces against the fence, his bod, then Michael's bod reciprocating, smashing against Philip.
"Oh man," Philip says, "I wish the fence weren't between us!"
"Ahem!"
Both sides of the fence pushed away, jumping to their feet, Michael wincing, him setting about hopping around on one foot. They waited till Michael stopped doing the 'rain dance'.
"Your foot okay Michael?" Geoff asks.
"It's fine now."
"Good. No more hanging on fences. Don't you too realize you could get 'something' stuck in the chainlink and I imagine in landing 'it' could still be on the fence?"
"Yikes!" Michael exclaimed, feeling up the middle part of his speedo.
Philip giggled at Michael, but his hand too sensed the sensitivity it could have caused, his hand disturbing the place he kept an extra tennis ball.
They also responded in turn, Michael saying, "Ew-w-w, that would definately hurt!"
Philip replying, "I don't think I could go on living without it... them!"
"Don't do such stupid things, okay boys?"
It's then Philip notices, "Is Kostas going to finish the game?"
Geoff replies, "Kostas is not only out of the game. I'll be notifying Mr. Karlyle he will be leaving the grounds. I gave everyone a security manual to read and obey. If any of you guys feel you are above the 'law' because you're number one in the modeling world, think again!" He walks off the court.
Rather than sad, Philip says happily, "Kostas is getting thrown out on his ass?"
"That's what Geoff says," Michael tells him.
"Hey! How did you get from there," Philip pointed to outside the fence, "to here?"
"I slipped through the link," Michael says.
"You did not," Philip replied, his hands on his hips.
"If Kostas is not playing, can I play with you guys?"
"Um, how would you mean that Michael?"
"Cool!" Michael laughed, Philip laughing along with him. He also added, "I don't know about the other guys, but I'd do you?"
Philip came closer, saying, "Do you 6-9?"
"6-9...9-6.. I don't care whatcha call it!"
Bending over laughing, Philip says, "You're such a twit, Michael!"
"A what?"
"Never mind," Philip replies, putting his arm over Michael's shoulder and leading him towards middle court. "I have an extra racket you can use."
"Cool!" Michael replies.
Squatting down to take the extra racquet out of the case, Michael smiles to see Philip's ballsacs hanging out one of the leggings of his speedo. "Oopsie!" he says, a huge grin on his face when Philip stands up!
"What?" Philip replies. It then dawns on him 'why' it feels 'tight' down there, like a noose strangling his balls. "Uh-oh-you're-right! I better stuff these back inside before Geoff gets on my ass about it!"
"The first time I met Geoff I thought of the same thing," Michael replies, leaving the thought open-ended.
"I don't follow you," Philip says, suddenly feeling more interested in chatting with Michael than playing tennis.
"Geoff. When I first met him."
"When?"
"Back in the city where I live with Alex and Kyle."
Confused, Philip asks, "I thought you lived with this Scotti dude?"
Michael tried clarifying, "I do. Scotti and me live with Alex and Kyle. It's really Kyle's condo, but it's not really a condo, not like you would see in the country. This condo goes up."
"Hmm," Philip says, more his butt sliding the fence, his ass rock-bottoming on the soft tennis court.
"You're showing again!" Michael exclaims.
This time Philip had to tuck more than his sacs in!
Right away they both looked in all directions, keen on seeing if Geoff were about.
"Good thing you're around," Philip joked.
"I know or else....."
"Yeah, I know," Philip replies, knowing where Michael was going with this. "When do I get to see your stash of tennis balls?"
Two horny dudes, eighteen and nineteen years old, horny enough to throw the rulebook away, their inner juices causing them to overlook what's right and go ahead with what's wrong, all in the name of what feels good, pick themselves up and walk off the courts.
"Are you sure nobody'll know?" Michael questions Philip as he zips up both racquets.
"I went over the rule book," Philip assures Michael, "and this is one place which is not on the estate drawing at the back of the book. Geoff will never even know we're there."
But knowing Geoff, in the personal sense, Michael starts having second thoughts. "I kind of feel funny going behind Geoff's back Philip."
Then, sensing it, Philip says, "You and Geoff... you're really good friends back in the city?"
It was that, but it was something else irking Michael, confessing, "Philip, I don't know what I'm doing with Scotti."
If Philip was confused before, he was doubly or more confused. "Oh, your cheating on your boyfriend, is it?"
There was a bench handy, so Michael parked his butt on it.
Sitting next to him, Philip says, "Me too."
"You have a boyfriend?"
"Back in Philly. I told him I was feeling guilty going to a 'studmuffin party' without him. He said to go and have fun and not worry about it."
Michael asks, "Did you know how these parties go? Me, I dunno other than what Alex told me."
"And what did Alex say?"
"Not much, but Alex's friend said anything goes, which I'm not sure what anything meant, until I was having fun with Olav behind the bush."
Philip let out a giggle.
"What?" Michael questioned.
"You."
"Me... what?" Michael replies.
"This," Philip deviated from everything else said, his index finger swiping along Michael's thin, dark treasure trail.
"What about my little treasure trail?" Michael got silly, sitting up straight.
"I want to get my tongue on it, then follow it to where it leads."
"Stop talking like that Philip or else you'll make me so damn horny, I'll have to do something about it!"
"Cool!" Philip replies. Pushing aside everything said and the stuff left unsaid, he says, "C'mon," getting off the bench, taking Michael's hand in his, "let's go find 'the cabin'."
"Cabin?"
"Yeah, where we can spend a few hours and not worried about Geoff finding us!"
Michael hesitated a minute, but then, him sitting, he couldn't help but almost have Philip's bulge in his face. It had a lot to do with him giving in!
%
"Kyle! How you feeling?"
Nobody could have been more surprised then himself, watching Cayman Karlyle walk in, advance to the side of the pool and hop in.
"Good, thanks to Nalin," Kyle replies as Nalin is to his side, helping his bod to float on the surface.
"What's your opinion Dr. Abhayananda?" Cayman asks Nalin.
"You're a doctor?" Kyle says to the side.
"Play along," Nalin replies.
For the first time Kyle sensed something comic from his straight-laced medical assistant.
"Kyle is approving with every minute. If you have the special chair on the grounds I'm sure we can work him into it, Cayman?"
Kyle thought it comical, Cayman stopping there, thinking, then like it didn't mean a care to the world, snapped his fingers... looked about, then his voice ringing out, "You!" His finger pointing to the first of his employee his eyes lay eyes on.
"Who me?" Darryl Winters said, his thumb lying to his own chest.
Karlyle turns to Kyle, "Is he with you?"
Nalin passes on a bit of information to Kyle, low-keyed, "Cayman knows 'everyone' by name... uh-oh!"
Kyle didn't know what to think of it and could go either way, saying, "Darryl is taking 'real' good care of this pool!"
"Funny Tom Space didn't mention this to me."
Funny also how one seems to forget the forgetful when there's something clouding the mind, like the eighteen year old smooth blond standing there in front of oneself, dressed in only a speedo, just wondering to what that teen trail is leading to....
"Um, it must have escaped my memory," Karlyle tries faking it.
Nalin leans to Kyle's ear, "Cayman is a good bullshitter when he wants to be!"
To add to Kyle's personal outlook on Nalin, when you get to know him, he can be quite the comical figure. He wanted to laugh out loud, but he didn't want to blow it for Darryl, knowing he came 'in the back door' so to speak regarding his employment.
"I'm Darryl Winters and..." he sat down on the edge of the pool, allowing his legs to flop into the water. Figuring he's been snagged, "and I'm not supposed to be here Mr. Karlyle. They gave me this job to keep Kyle's pool clean. If you want me to... I'll leave."
"Darryl Winters? Hmm... I don't recall Tom mentioning your name?"
What the hell! It wouldn't matter the least bit by now, Cayman walking his way through the water, standing there, his abs almost interlocked with Darryl's knees, Karlyle's hands calming the boy, massaging his pale white thighs.
Defending himself, but with feelings for the other guy, "I don't mean to get Tom in trouble, but he's the one who said it was okay if I stayed. I'm not going to get Tom into any trouble am I?"
It wasn't in the contract an employee signed, but if you worked for Cayman Karlyle, there was an unwritten clause which meant, while on his property, you were his property, so to speak. "Now don't you go worrying those..." he tilted Darryl's head up by the chin, "beautiful blues eyes... my are you're eyes so splendidly beautiful!"
Nalin got tired of waiting for Cayman to stop flirting with the pool boy, so waded Kyle back to the lounger and stepped out of the water in search of the special chair. Next to Tom and a few others, Nalin would could get away with menitoning to Cayman, as he passed by him, "You're pathetic!"
Kyle laughed, seeing Cayman, so busy with 'consoling' Darryl, Nalin's 'derogatory' comment swept right over his head!
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"I don't know about all this Ron," Alex whined, as Ron finished up tying the boxing gloves, adhered to his hands.
"Believe me," Ron says as he backs away, "these abs are so rugged they could take a Mack truck running into them!"
"Sounds like you're 'rugged'," Alex replied, but wasn't sure about this gut-punching stuff.
"C'mon over here," Ron replied, leading Alex to a mat on the floor. Lying right down, Ron began doing some crunches. "Just give me a minute to tighten up."
Alex wasn't sure, so asks, "Are those a six-pack or eight?"
"I lost count!" Ron replied, laughing, but still crunching. He stops momentarily to tell Alex, "All I want you concentrating on Alex, is thinking about busting them down to a four-pack!"
"I dunno Ron... I'm kind of skeptical about doing any of this... whatever this shit is called?"
Ron, thinking he better get crackin' before Alex lost interest, does his last crunch and getting up. "Okay, first we're going to do an easy set of fifty."
"Fifty what?" Alex asks, not sure if he meant what he thought Ron meant, hoping it wasn't what he meant.
"Um, the gut-punching? Remember? The reason you have the gloves on?"
"You want me to punch you in the stomach fifty times? Are you insane?"
"I know you think I am, but really? It's what us guys do to toughen up our abs. Besides, if it bothers you, it's only twenty-five punches for each glove."
"Oh hell, now that makes a big difference!" Alex replies, thinking he's glad neither of them are rocket scientists!
"Ready?"
"No," Alex replies.
Seeing he's going to have to do a lot of coaxing, Ron takes Alex's right glove in his hand asking, "Are you right or left handed Alex?"
"Left."
He drops Alex's right glove and takes the left in his hand, holding the 'knuckled' part up to his abs. "Now, all you have to do it draw your elbow back and 'bam!', plow it right into my abs."
Very reluctant to do so, Alex replies, "I dunno, Ron?"
"Oh c'mon Alex," Ron babies him, taking Alex's left glove in both his hands, tapping himself on the rock hard abs. "See how easy it is."
"Do we have to?" Alex gives a plea.
"Yes we have to...."
"But..." Alex gives a last ditch effort, pulling his gloved-hand out of Ron's grasp, but then notices something as he peers downwards, "Oh shit! You're fuckin' hard!"
Giggling, Ron reaches down into his speedo and says, "Yeah. Which probably means I'd be wasting my energy trying to keep myself contained in these, huh?"
Alex is all eyes, watching Ron spread the elastic loin covering over his mass erection and then placing a hand on Alex's shoulder to steady himself as he steps out of it. And to get the edge on Alex, "I feel kind of naked with you having yours on. Why don't you..."
"Why don't I not, Ron?"
Stalemated, Ron replies, "Right-tee-oh... then why don't we get on with it?"
Finding this comical, Ron trying for all its worth to get him to de-speedo-ize himself, smiled, but kept his humorous response to himself. For whatever strange reasoning, he didn't wish to make it sound to Ron like he was enjoying himself. Yet, seeing Ron's cock and nuts hanging out, began making him feel slighted towards the erotic side of all this. He lost his train of thought when Ron once again took his glove.
"Now just punch... like you would punch a guy in the stomach Alex. You 'have' punched a guy in the stomach before, haven't you?"
"Not on purpose."
"Bet you knocked the wind right out of him too, huh?"
"Like I said Ron, it wasn't on purpose and I wasn't looking for his reaction, only to buy time so my little brother and I could get the hell outta there," Alex replied.
"Is he as cute as you?"
"Who?"
"Your little brother?" Ron replied.
Standing there, boxing gloves at the sides of his torso, Alex smirked.
"Okay, forget your little brother. Are you gonna punch me or what?"
"For that remark I should punch your lights out!" Alex said in jest.
"Cool!" Ron said, probably serious!
But to get this over with and get out of the gym and back to the pool, Alex voluntarily matched up the left boxing glove with Ron's abs. "Now, how do you want this?"
"Tap," he once again took Alex's glove and tapped it against his stomach, "tap... tap... and anytime haul off and sock me hard when I....."
Alex just wanted to get it over, heave-ho and let it be done and over, so.....
"Ughhhhhh! Oh shit!"
"Whatsamatter?" Alex gasped, watching Ron cave in.
Falling to his knees, top of his head touching the mat, Ron breathes heavily saying, "When I tell you to... when I give you the word, Alex!"
"Oh. You said... I thought you said to sock you hard, so.... so, I socked you hard, Ron!"
As Ron got up, he still held his gut, one arm on one knee as he helped himself to his feet.
"Need help?" Alex asks, thinking of what help could he be with these cumbersome boxing gloves hindering his grasp.
"No, I don't need help. Listen Alex, don't do anything til I tell you to. Kapeesh?"
"Gotcha," Alex replies. He didn't even notice, call it nerves, but he was banging the two gloves together like a prize fighter. Unintentionally he remarks, "One good thing, at least you're still hard!" He laughed.
But it gave Ron an even better idea, "Hey, you want to test my balls?"
It took the humor out of everything, Alex's face turning cross as he says, "You're sick Ron. I think we should forget it. What jerk would want somebody to punch him in the balls?"
"I was joking," Ron said, trying to smooth it over.
"I don't think you were, but can we do this other thing and get it over with, because I'm not really enjoying myself."
"Oh," Ron said. "Well it's not going to turn me on if you're not liking what you're doing. This is supposed to be fun for both of us."
"Look Ron, I was curious when I came in here, but the thing with your balls... It's just kind of weird okay?" Alex said in all sincerity.
Being serious, Ron says, "Like I said Alex, I don't get much of a chance doing this with some young, hot guy like you. I don't know if you're getting what I'm saying, but it's all part of feeling good about doing this. You, the hot way you look having the gloves on, your physique, a young guy like you giving me a good gut workover. Do you know what I'm saying?"
"Kind of," Alex thought and was comprehending it, thinking of this guy, though not way beyond his own years, ten years older, yeah he could understand, but mostly he was feeling sorry and it wasn't Ron's fault altogether. Alex thought, here he is, agreeing to doing something, getting the guy, whether it is Ron or if it were somebody else, getting him all sexed up over doing something and then backing out? He concluded, "Okay pick a number. If you want it be fifty okay, but let's do it?"
"Hell yeah!" Ron regained his former joy, maybe even more so. Instead of standing he walked right over to the lat-bar.
"Where are you going?"
"Hey, you don't know when my next hot abs-workover is going to be... at least with a hot tamale like yourself!" he laughed.
Alex rolled his eyes, smiling as he followed Ron. He watched as Ron set the machine up so hundreds of pounds of weight tightened the wide lat bar. Watching not only Ron set up the machine, but his unleashed cock and balls bouncing about as he did it, took the edge off of things.
"There! That should do it!" Ron said, high wired with excitement as he dusted hands off.
And when Alex finally gazed upon Ron, his arms stretched high and out to the sides, his bod taut, every muscle contracting, including the one between his hamstrings, Alex couldn't lie he was feeling something electric between his own 'hams'!
"Ready!" Ron announced as he tightened up his core.
Alex couldn't help it, giggling.
"What?" Ron asks, following Alex's gaze, lower than his abs.
"Nothing," Alex replies as he walks up to Ron. "I just have to watch my step so I don't 'step' in it, slip and fall right on my ass!"
"Oh that," Ron says, the lat pulldown bar upending in one hand as the other reaches down and cleans cock, Ron's tongue removing the residue from his finger. "Just disregard that little detail. It's only you turning me on Alex."
"Right... and I haven't even laid a hand on you Ron."
"Hmm... take the gloves off and I'll be at your mercy Alex!"
"Can we get on with it? It's getting kind of hot in here?"
Ron replies, "Right," not wanting to chance Alex backing out.
And then the 'game' begame, but Alex only getting in the ole 'one-two' and exclaiming, "Oh fuckin' shit Ron!"
"Oh Alex! I'm so sorry!"
"Fuck! I only gave you two punches, Ron!"
"I know," Ron replies, his hands dropped from the bar, one still coercing himself into having a wild ejaculation. "I'll have you cleaned up as soon as I can... oh fuck man that was so fuckin' hot Alex!"
What could Alex do? Here he had given Ron two taps to the abs and his cock was gushing it's goo out like Krakatoa!
"Oh sorry Alex. I just had to finish it... I mean... almost... I..." Then, as Ron stood there, his hand still on his wet cock, a big slimy puddle on the floor between them, "Sorry I like got you... wet... you want me... to.. clean you up?"
Alex stood there, thinking... he couldn't positively, one hundred percent swear it was all of Ron's spunk clinging to his speedo. Yeah, dripping down his calves, it was Ron's, but intermingled with the black and turqouise lycra, he couldn't be for certain he leaked some of his own...
Standing up straight, Ron started feeling less selfish and approaching Alex, "I really feel bad about soiling you up Alex."
He was about to mention the possibility of the gym having a shower, but after not having proper sex for about two straight weeks, he was starting to allow Ron come on to him. Too, Alex had crossed emotions, thinking how different all this was, but how the same as man-to-man, regarding Ron's coniving ways, which Alex was all too aware. "Yeah," Alex began turning the tables, "I bet your cum is soaked all the way through too. Bet my bushy pubes are all doused with your cum juices. What are you going to do about it Ron?"
It was like a punch to the gut all over again with Ron as his eyes lit up and said, "Are you serious Alex?"
"Well Ron, dah! What do you think the guys are going to say when I show up and there's cum spots on the front of my speedo, let alone streams of your spunk dripping down my hairy legs?" Playing it for all it was worth, Alex suddenly realises Ron's response is making himself tingle between the hams.
"Well, there's nothing like hearing guys talk about-cha behind your back, so I guess I better do something about it!"
Alex had to laugh at first, saying, "What tha..." when Ron latches onto the front of his speedo, pulling it away from his pubes like he was going to jump on him, except....
"You lay down right here and get comfortable Alex. I'm gonna give you the best cock 'workover' you've ever had!"
Alex doubted it, but went with the flow, Ron backing him up to a weight lifting bench, making him lie down and still with the boxing gloves on, lie there and let him have his way with him.
"Want to lift your ass a sec there Alex?"
By now Alex was Ron's 'prisoner', pressing down on his feet, lifting his ass up so Ron's hands could tug at his speedo, lifting it over his.... Alex exclaimed to himself, 'Gawd am I hard!'
"Hell yeah!" Ron cried out as he stripped Alex's speedo. He had to put Alex's knees together to get the tightwad apparel off, then as he separated them, pulled Alex's butt closer to the edge of the padded bench. "Oh man am I gonna have a feast!"
Not sure he wasn't going to fall to the side of the narrow bench, Alex did his best to grasp the upper end with his gloves. "Ohh-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-oh-h-h-h!" Any disputes within Alex's mind to quit were quickly dashed as Ron took him down his throat, all nine and half inches surrounded by Ron's warm cavern, the tightness which could only be equaled by his lover's ass. Even though it was Ron's mouth doing the tantalizing, all Alex could think about it Kyle being the means by which his cock was being totally pleasured!
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Copyright 2009 T. Chase McPhee
`For Sale By Owner: CK's Stud Muffin Party' 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.....