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 08 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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From the moment the two entered the 'hidden cabin', the one non-existant building on the map of Geoff's 'Stud Muffin Party' Manual, Michael and Phillip more or less mutually took it upon themselves to address each of their undertakings, which found them stripped naked and in bed.
At first, it was Michael, who has always taken the upper hand with a man, falling to his knees to please, fell short of his task, Phillip telling him, "No, you lie down first. I like can't wait to taste every part of you Michael!"
"Well, okay," Michael said of this new experience, flat-lining his bod as Phillip hovered above.
"Oh man am I gonna love this!" Phillip says outright, making Michael place his hands behind his head, flaunting his dark-haired pits.
Straddling both of Michael's thighs, Phillip's cock lay right on top of Michael's lower apparatus, his hefty ball sacs dangling down, until Phillip sank to where his chest clashed with Michael's pecs.
For all of about ten seconds, Phillip enjoys licking Michael's hairy right pit, till Michael's hand makes discovery, "Wow! You're like real 'big' down there."
Saliva dripping from his lip, Phillip replies, "Yeah and guess who made me that way?"
Michael joked, "Geoff?"
"No, but I bet under the clothes, the man's a hearty menu!"
"And what's wrong with 'my' menu?" Michael replies, thinking he's being shoved aside, even if only in talking up about Geoff's undercoating.
"Oh," Phillip says, his tone of voice trailing off, the kind of sound somebody makes when they've realized what they've said might have offended the other person. Trying to redeem himself, "Oh but you are. These hairy pits and.... and," he slides down the bed, "I really love this treasure trail!"
"Yeah?"
"Yeah and it looks so-o-o... so like so yummy, I'm going to get right to it," falling in place, his tongue hanging out of his mouth like a dog's drool waiting on a meaty bisquit...
"Cool! Can you like...."
Michael's suggestion wasn't even necessary as Phillip again adjusted his bod on the bed, swooping lower. In actuality he spent only seconds traveling the thin treasure trail till his journey brought him to Michael's pubes. Instead of sucking up hair, Phillip moved right in for the kill.
"OMG!" Michael called out when heat surrounded his stiff wood. Feeling the fire, he immediately set about to move himself into position, taking Phillip on, since Phillip was too involved in taking care of his own hunger.
The whole time Michael coerced Phillip into a '69' position, the two went at it like a planned script. Then, for the next - who's counting? - series of minutes, the two mouth-pleasured each other, sucking up delight, tasting small portions of leaking honey.
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"Hey! You're sitting up!"
Kyle was ready to congratulate Alex and explain 'how' at the same time, but something tweaked his nostrils. "Man, you reek!"
"Do I?" Alex asks, picking up his arm and sniffing his left pit. "Yeah, I guess I do!"
"Worked up quite a sweat punching Ron's gut, huh?"
Nicely, more joking, Alex replies, "And what are you insinuating?"
Providing an answer, Kyle included his confession, "Nothing. But I wanted to let you know that Nalin was 'very' liberal with his massage this afternoon." His smile told just how far and wide his hand traveled.
Knowing where Kyle was headed with this, Alex opened up, "Ron had me lay down on an exercise bench and before I knew it he was working 'me' over, if you know what I mean? I know I should have stopped him, but in all of us I guess there's this weakness and...."
"You don't have to elaborate Alex," Kyle holds up his 'stop-sign-hand'. "My manseed is probably all filtered out of the pool by now," Kyle surrendered more thought.
Alex sums it up, "So, looks like we both had an all-out 'climatic' afternoon?"
Reeking or not, he sat down on the lounge chair next to the highend chair Kyle sat in, which made it so he could sit up comfortable and not have the fear of moving around too much, which could disturb his sore arm.
"Hey," Kyle jokes on, "if this is at all what climate change is about, I'm all for it!"
Sidetracked, after scanning the pool, Alex asks sarcastically, "What's Cayman doing, teaching Darryl how to swim?"
Laughing, Kyle says, "Forty minutes ago it was the other way around. I have a feeling Darryl was afraid to touch him."
"Oh? How's that go?"
"You know, Darryl finding his way onto the estate, he figured he was going to get kicked out, but it seems Cayman has a very forgiving heart."
"Right," Alex says, "especially when it's a hot, eighteen year old blond, in a speedo!"
"So, which blond do you think is hotter?"
It took Alex a second for it to register. Touching his feet down on the pavement, he sits up in his chair and renders, "I don't answer such stoopid questions, but you're right. I reek! I'm going to take a dip." Instead of a swan dive, Alex purposefully upsets the leavening of the water, making small tsunamis as he cannonballs in, shouting, "Cowabungaaaaaaaaaah!"
Kyle laughs at Alex's antics, but also of him disturbing Cayman's lovely time he was having with Darryl. He couldn't hear much, but mumbling as Alex surfaces near the two. Kyle wasn't left alone too long, Alex cutting through the waters, placing both hands on the edge of the pool and hiking himself up.
"Hey-hey-hey-hey-hey!" Kyle complains, when the water shags off Alex as he shakes like a wet dog, himself the forefront of the tiny blasts of water dousing him .
"Whatsamatter? Afraid you'll rust?"
"Well Nalin has proved I haven't rusted down there!" Kyle nods to his own lower half.
But before the two can get sex-crazed, Cayman and Darryl are joining in.
Cayman strongly suggests, "Get some rest because it's going to be a long night." And, leaving them, his hand attached to Darryl's hand, "Cocktails will be served promptly at six, dinner at seven."
"Easy come, easy go," Alex says.
Kyle sums up both their assumptions, "I wonder who our new pool boy is going to be?"
No sooner had he said it, Bill Whitecloud walks in and announces, "Hey guys, looks like I'm moving up in the world. I just got promoted from 'towels and linens' to 'minding the ocean'!"
"Congratulations," Alex and Kyle reply, watching Bill starting to strip from his service clothes to his pool 'uniform'.
"I hope you don't mind, but I'm anxious to get out of these stuffy clothes," Bill says with a chuckle.
"We don't mind," the two lovers say, looking at the each other because they had both said the same thing, unrehearsed.
However, as quick as they diverted their attention from Bill, their eyes drifted back.
Kyle comments to Alex, "He's almost as hairy as you!"
"And as 'bulgy'?" Alex asks opinion of his lover.
"I'd have to see it up close to know for sure!"
And so far, since this place has been proving out to be a looney fantasy land, Alex dares to say, "I wonder if Bill wouldn't mind?"
"No-o-o-o-o-o Alex!" Kyle pleads as Alex scurries away, jogging in Bill's direction. He further curses Alex out, "You idiot! I hope you're not doing what I think you are...." But his thoughts seemed correct, as opposed to what he hoped Alex wasn't presenting to Bill.
They walked in Kyle's direction!
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"I'm sorry if I messed things up for you," Chef Kholafai says as he lays on his side, a hand toying with Scotty's chest hair, trying to wind the short strands around his finger, wetting them, then doing it again.
"How can you blame yourself? Afterall, it was me coming on to you."
"Was not!" Aram replies. "You don't think I dropped the potholder on the floor by accident, do you?"
"It sure seemed like it," Scotty doubted anything beyond a mere bout of clumsiness.
At the time their association was absolute business, exchange of questions and the answering, facts of the cooking world.
Aram laughs, then proceeds, "I needed something to see what you were packing behind that apron!"
Carrying it farther, after Scotty chuckles, "Oh, then I guess we both got something out of it!"
"Oh? How would that go?" Aram asks with curiosity.
"Perfect angle to see right down your shirt?"
"And?"
Scotty puts on a smile as his finger 'pings' the ring attached to Chef Kholafai's left nip.
"Oo-o-oh! Don't do that too many times or you'll have me hard again and I think I've caused enough infidelity between you and your boyfriend!"
"Right," Scotty 'sobers up'. "It's this place!"
Suddenly Scotty sat on the edge of the bed and hoisted himself up and out, leaving Aram to gaze upon his hairy ass, back and the curves of his swimmer's built shoulders. Shimmying over to the edge, he dislodged himself.
"You're right," Aram replies, looking about, "It does tend to have a mystical ambience about it, which can make you do things which seem right at the time, but when you 'wake up', you realize what you've done and.. and I wish I hadn't." He wishes he hadn't made the discover upon dropping the kitchen tool, hadn't strayed from ordinary kitchen techniques, like placing Scotty between himself and the counter while whisking up some egg whites, or reaching overhead for a pot while his protege crouched underneath, pressing his lower half against him for the only purpose of trying to find out if the electricity were flowing.
Two hands on the dresser edging, Scotty looks down and says, "I know, but..." Then, turning around, he confronts, "Aram, yesterday I told Michael I wanted to come back to work in the kitchen with you because I wanted to pick up some cooking hints. I thought that's what I was here for today, but then I realized it wasn't at all what my mind was telling me. I feel like my love life is a total disaster now because..." He hesitated. He wasn't sure how this was going to go over with the chef, but went for 'broke', "I'm feeling something for you Aram."
Smiling, Aram replies, "You know, I was telling myself just the opposite, that I 'should not' allow you back in the kitchen, had it all rehearsed, especially after I told you yesterday it was fine for you to come back, but this morning had it all planned to tell you it was a bad idea. But when you showed up at the kitchen door I.... I..."
Before he could unleash his real feelings, Scotty had made advance, his hands on Aram's bare torso, slowly winding around his back and as the two squashed bods together, Scotty was relaying, "You don't have to say it, Aram. I know."
And as the two held each other, eyes closed, they both 'knew' without speaking, the meaning of the moment, the moment before, but were wondering what the moments following would or should lead up to.
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"Hey Michael?"
"Yeah?" Michael replies, as the two carry on their tasty 6-9, popping off, Phillip sucking him in.
Totally out of the blue, after releasing Michael's hard shaft, "How would you feel about fucking me?"
This time Phillip didn't draw Michael in, but waited for his answer, "I'm not sure. I've never done it. You?"
"Nope," Phillip says. "But I don't think I could ever fuck a guy. But do you want to try it?"
Michael smiled.
Even though Phillip couldn't see him smiling, he sensed something so asks, "What?"
For now the 6-9 closed up, the two shutting the gap between their heads. With heads together on top of pillows, Michael confesses, "I almost did though."
"When you were hitching?" Phillip asks, trying to pry more stories from Michael's brain of hitchhiking clear across 'the world' it seemed, but only from Fairbanks, Alaska, to New York City.
"No. Actually when I was a sophomore in high school. You see there was this guy who thought he was a Godsend to the football team. He carried himself around like he was a Tom Brady, all the girls flocking around him... damn was he so-fuckin'-hot!"
"Yeah?" Phillip replied, wanting to pluck more details out of Michael's brain.
Buying it, Michael says, "I saw him one time in the shower. I was at my locker and pretended to be rethreading my sneaker, but out of the corner of my eye I had a direct link to his whole front... and back eventually, as he turned his bod to spray the front of himself off. Man was he built... except, if any girl saw what was under the zipper, they would have turned him down on the spot. Hell! At twelve I was bigger than him!"
"I think you're big," Phillip says, his hand reassuring Michael of his opinionated response.
"At least bigger than I was when I was twelve." Rather than completing his story of 'wanting' to put the football hero 'down', Michael plays out, "So you think I'm big do you?"
Not caring how far Michael's thoughts went, with his 'shower-jock', Phillip replies, "I think I'm kind of tight. I could really give your cock a good massaging, if you want to try?" Of course, Phillip's hand turning from a whole-hand tool to making a thumb-finger circle, helped to reinforce his words of invitation.
He wasn't sure, but being Phillip was a hot guy, talked with a subtlety about himself, a mighty inviting tone, Michael says, "I suppose I could try." And to tie up loose ends of his high school story, but keep Phillip in sync with now, "Would be cool to see if you are as tight as a football jock?"
"Cool!" Phillip says, springing into action. "How do you want me?"
"I don't know. How do you want to get?"
"How about I lay down, you put my legs up on your shoulders and then force yourself inside me?"
"Sounds like a plan," Michael replies, but wasn't totally convinced if he was going to enjoy this. It felt really good with Phillip's tongue swirling around his shaft whilst it was swimming inside his mouth.
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"Hey, 'pretty man', want to fuck around?"
Troy raised his eyebrows, which sent a signal, he was sure.
It made Kostas back off, saying, "Let me know. I'd love to sink my fat cock into your tight ass!"
Wincing, not because of the fact of feeling Kostas' cock up his ass, but more out of the vulgar way in which he walked up to him, expelled his lude remark and then passed by him, like Kostas maybe thought he would high-tail it after him? 'No way!'
"Hey man, wanna fuck around?"
Switching back in his original direction, watching the photo session, Troy came face to face with his next adversary. But rather than the rough exterior, the tall blond features seemed to soften his view of this guy.
"I heard what Kostas said to you. You did the right thing. Kostas thinks since he's the hottest piece of shit to hit the modeling industry he can command every guy to his beck and call."
"Oh," Troy replies, "then I suppose I should be taking what you're saying as a compliment!" He followed it with a tight little smile.
Looking at Troy's glass, more full than empty, he says, "I see you are not into drinking. After I ditch this glass I'm headed outside for a bottle of water." It was meant as an invitation, but before anything he introduced himself, "I'm Olav Kirkegaard."
"Troy Aellaert. I was watching you modeling for the photographer. You're good."
"Thanks. So, are you into getting some water?"
Troy realizes it more than a pickup line, but wonders if his thirst is really his tastebuds. "I'd much prefer water, but I'm waiting around for Tom Space."
"If it's to photograph you, you're at the end of the line. Besides," Olav takes Troy's flute and deposits both on a table, "we've got the whole weekend and I'm sure when Tom wants you he'll send one of his elves to find you."
"Then I suppose it would be okay to get a water." But then he hesitates while Olav holds the door for him to ask, "You're not going to like lure me into your bedroom and show me how tight I am, are you?"
Hinting his preference, Olav replies, "If we come to that, trust me, it would be 'you' finding out how tight 'I' am!"
"Really?" Troy said, being led out of doors.
"But I'm not really into the 'hype' of this place. I don't know what your impression is Troy, but I'm not really into all the sex and what-not which goes on at parties like this."
"Oh, then why are you holding my hand?"
"Sorry," Olav replies, dropping the casual manner of walking with a guy. "A habit of mine. I'm just trying to be friendly, but I forget how somebody else might perceive it."
Strangely, the disconnection 'bothered' Troy in a way he wasn't sure. Never the 'forward' one, he forgot about his thoughts of the possibility of Olav coming on to him, in light of Kostas' proposal. Plus the aura of a place and event such as this, a spell more or less put on the unwary, Troy had his doubts about anyone being truly sincere, but discounted his feelings when sensing something more geniune of Olav, "I like the idea of friends being friendly!"
The two rejoined hands.
"I don't mean this to be flirtatious, but I think you look very nice in the speedo."
"Flirtatious? I wouldn't mind if you were being so, but I think I would be more of a flirt if I said you look great both with and without the speedo!"
Olav laughed upon saying, "Did you notice how Donny was trying to set me up for the shoot and made the attempt to hide my cock and balls in between my thighs."
"Yeah, I was wondering about that. What were you saying to him when he was handling you there?"
"There's a thousand and one lines, but my favorite is, 'don't touch what you can't afford'!"
They laughed, but Troy, in being a bit zany, asks, "How much would it cost me?"
Indirectly, Olav would make the price dirt cheap, but instead he offers, "Accompany me to this evening's events?"
Recalling the events he was supposed to be covering with his uncle tonight, Troy replies, "Cocktails, dinner and theater party?"
"And whatever comes afterwards?"
Their hands still connected, the two stood there between the main house and one of the swimming pools, staring into one another's eyes.
A little on edge, Troy nervously asks, "Would you mind if I kissed you Olav?"
"Wow! I thought holding hands I was working fast!"
"Okay. Forget it," Troy said as quickly as he first rendered.
"What?" He coiled Troy back with his hand as he began leading them towards the juice bar, "and allow you to think I turned you down?"
Their chest smacked right together as Olav zeroed in on Troy's lips!
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"I can do it myself," Kyle said, right before wincing.
"Just ignore him," Alex said to one of their valets.
Right after reporting back to their quarters, Bill Whitecloud, doing the honors of making sure Kyle's electric handicapped vehicle didn't hit any ruts, a group of guys flooded their quarters for the purpose of both dressing Kyle and seeing to their every needs.
"See you guys later," Bill bid them farewell, but not before taking in the eye candy, a comment under his breath, "you guys sure are lucky!"
"Luck has nothing to do with it!"
Bill did a double take, wondering on his own whom the dude was who made comment. With a house staff in the hundreds, how could he have possibly been addressed by the one and only Adonis? "Um maybe later you could explain what you meant by that?"
Holding two piles of different shaped towels, the dude replies, "I'm new to this guesthouse. Maybe you can show me around later and I'll run by you some of my theories about luck?"
But even before the two could get on a first-name basis, Wattie was shouting, "Silas, are you with us?"
"I gotta go," Silas addresses Bill, before hopping off at Wattie's beck and calling.
'Wow!' is all Bill could think as he walked away, tossing his keys to the pool shed up in the air and catching them on the rebound.
But Silas became more than the towel-boy, Nalin coordinating Kyle's bathing, right from the chair. His mind loss track of the picture of Bill in his head, when Nalin asked him to hold Kyle forwards, the placing of his hand against Kyle's back, in order for Nalin to swab down his shoulder blades.
"You've got such smooth skin," he told Kyle, not meaning it as a flirting remark.
"Thanks!" Kyle replies. He and Alex in a giddy mood, Kyle mentions, "But you better watch it. My boyfriend gets insanely jealous."
"Yeah!" Alex said, putting on a grim disposition.
He didn't mellow out to a grin fast enough, Silas saying, "I didn't mean anything by it. Honestly!"
"I was joking," Alex replies, seeing Silas getting frazzled by it. "I'm Alex and... and you know the guy you've got your hands all over!"
"Uh-h-h right," Silas replies. "I'm Silas Travers. I'd shake your hand, but it's busy."
It's then Nalin says, "You can shake his hand. I'm done here."
"Already?" Kyle replies. "Are you sure I'm squeaky clean back there Nalin?"
"Maybe I should check?" Nalin says in a sly manner.
"Never you mind, Nalin," Alex replies. "I'm wise to the both of you's!"
Kyle announces, "I probably could have saved you the trouble, but I've got to go to the jon?"
"You are such trouble to me Kyle!" Nalin complains in a sweet manner.
One problem with high tech toys, like the one which zipped Kyle across the floor and to the next room... Kyle had to put on the brakes right before entering.
Alex announces, "Trust me... it ain't gonna make it through the doorway!"
"Hey, where are you from?" Silas asks Alex.
"Pennsylvania, why?"
"You're accent," Silas replies, "sounds like a guy I dated from Tennessee."
"It's fake," Alex dropped the twang.
"Oh. Right," Silas replies as he takes an opportunity to gaze inside Alex's unbuttoned white shirt.
Silas didn't mind at all allowing the others to help juggle Kyle out of his chair, stand him up and treat him like an invalid to make sure he didn't bump his shoulder on the wall or a fixture. At all times he thought he was being guarded by padded hands.
"Poop or pee?" Nalin asked, which sounded so comical for a man of his reserved stature.
Then again, him slowly stepping out of his rigid shell of seriousness, it came across as funny for all. One of Kyle's helpers, Hiro, asks, "Let me hold that for you."
But he got swept aside real quick, Alex butting in, "Hey, if anybody holds his cock, it's gonna be me!"
"Yeah, anybody else and it's gonna make more than pee come out of it!" But then Kyle thought about it, reprimanding himself, "Oh, that didn't come out right, did it?"
"You're lucky I'm madly in love with you or else I wouldn't know any better," Alex said as he stood behind his lover, an arm in between Kyle's arm and ribs, hand around his barrel and pointing him towards the cesspool.
Leave it to Ron to say, "Nice color!"
Hiro got more looks when he mentions, "Bet it's got a strong taste!"
Alex says, "You're both gross!"
"I know," Kyle replies. "I think after I pee I'm gonna barf!"
For now Ron and Hiro put their looks aside, after being nicely dismissed by Nalin. So, taking up the slack, Silas was elected to become Nalin's right hand man.
More than handing out towels, Silas became key in dressing Kyle, but had wished it more involved Alex's attire.
"I could never figure out how to tie one of these," Alex said, standing there in front of the mirror, making a mess of his bowties, tied up like a bow on a Christmas package.
"I've got it!" Silas jumped to it before anyone else could volunteer.
And while Silas fed his arms over Alex's shoulder, the two stirred up some small talk, Alex asking, "How tall are you?"
"Almost as tall as you Alex. What are you, six-two?" Silas replies.
"Six-one. You've got to be the same."
"Six-even. So, how long have you and Kyle been together?"
And so it went, Alex spelling out their short, past history, the journey from home to his second home, their nest in New York City, then a few adventures they've had together, his meeting up with different people, like Scotty, Carlos and Michael, culminating with Stephen Braddock, then the connection made with Cayman Karlyle.
"You've got it made Alex."
"I do now," he meant the perfectly tied bowtie.
"Thanks," the eighteen year old took it as a compliment, "but I meant about knowing so many people who can help you get there... you know.. to the top?"
"To the top, Silas? I'm not there yet, but when I do get there I want to do it on my merits and oh, it helps to have somebody who loves you right by your side for support." At that point Alex excused himself and turned to his lover. "Don't you look like puttin' on the ritz?"
"You did a good job on the tie, Silas," Nalin complimented.
"Thanks," Silas replies.
Kyle knew Nalin's sixth sense was kicking in, but perhaps it was also his 'nads', when Nalin asks, "Now what are you going to be wearing when you accompany me to the cocktail party?"
"Me?" And then boldly, Silas asks, "but you haven't invited me."
"True," Nalin says. "But I've already invited Bill and to risk the opportunity for him to back out I thought maybe I should invite you too?"
"Hmm," Kyle says to Alex, "I never figured Nalin to be into threesomes."
Alex cooly replies, "Or more?"
"Go figure," Kyle sums it up, nodding for them to get lost.
Escorting Kyle out of the bedroom, Alex takes notice, "Hey, where did Ron and Hiro disappear to?"
Kyle says, "I don't even want to 'go' there!" "But!"
"What?" Alex asks, stopping the carting vehicle.
Worming his index finger, he motions for Alex to lend an ear, "What?" he asks, bending in half, his ear to Kyle's lips.
He sweetly whispers in Alex's ear, "Thanks for making me a special pair of briefs. They 'fit' perfectly!" He topped off his lure of compliments with a kiss to his cheek."
"Thanks! Good to hear," Alex replies. "It's the first pair I've made with the special 'ball-room' effect?"
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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.....