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 09 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"Oh now this is elegance!"
In the daytime or darkened night, the theater looked much like any other building, matching the contemporary design of the rest of the buildings on Cayman Karlyle's estate. However in the nighttime, all lit up like a Christmas village, tens of thousands of tiny bulbs adorned trees along paths leading to the main thoroughfare, which brought a small entourage to the main entrance.
Alex and Kyle arrive second to Cayman and much to their insight from earlier, the two acknowledged their host escorting former pool-boy, Darryl.
"My how one rises in the ranks, just by knowing the 'right' people?" Alex comments to his lover.
"No pun intended, but I have a feeling there's going to be a rising in your brief sales, after our weekend spent here, Alex."
Alex snips, after seeing all the eyecandy, in the way of tuxed-out staff members, "Hey, I've got rising-in-the-briefs and the weekend's only begun!"
Kyle could have come back at Alex with a sweet, sarcastic remark about him getting some boom-booms in his briefs, but how can another condemn a person when they are feeling the same themselves!
"Hi guys!"
Turning heads, Alex and Kyle stop their processional just inside the theater entrance.
"This is Phillip. Want some champayne? It's free!"
Of course they did, but they were more thirsty for knowledge, especially with Michael's arm around the bicep of a guy other then the one he came to the Stud Muffin Party with.
Rather than pry the info out of Michael, Alex asks, "Where's Scotty?"
To send a message, possibly make the explanation for his action simpler, Michael says, "He's over there." Still holding his glass, Michael points with his finger, his arm across his date's chest.
If confused already, things got a little more puzzling, Kyle and Alex looking over the tops of heads to see an older dude with his arm over Scotty's shoulder, conversing, drinks in their hands.
"I don't get it," Kyle says, which was meant as a lead-in to the 'why' of the differing pairs of dancing partners.
For Michael it was the perfect means by which to introduce, "Guys, this is Phillip Johnston. He's a model."
Knowing this was as awkward for Alex and Kyle, Phillip shook hands, forwarding the normal, 'nice to meet you', but also amended, perhaps in an effort to help Michael out, "We met on the tennis court and decided to hook up for the theater party."
"Hook up?" Kyle says, him and Alex exchanging glances.
Alex replies. "Um, Michael, why don't we go get some finger foods so Phillip and Kyle can get to know each other?" Alex had determined Kyle's manner of eyes addressing him, precluded the need for a pow-wow between him and Michael.
"Cool!" Michael said, his arm unraveling, detaching him from Phillip.
There was really no place intimate and for certain Alex didn't wish to pick the obvious meeting place, the jon. So they stepped back out into the early evening, when the sky had mellowed out to a darker tint of blue, the sun hiding below the horizon.
"What the fuck has happened to you and Scotty?"
Michael had figured this was going to come up, so after this afternoon, meeting up with Scotty in their room, he formulated his mentality of addressing the situation as he walked from their bungalow to where he was to meet up with Phillip. "Like how far back do you want me to go?"
Alex stood there silently.
With the look on Alex's face, Michael determined he wanted to know all, so he spit out, "Well you see, Scotty kind of said to me that the cook he was working with today, wanted to take him to the theater party tonight. But then I figured, since this was happening with Scotty, I would tell him about Phillip."
"Oh?" Alex replies, wanting to know more.
"So then we kind of look at each other and... well, you know how it is when you look at somebody in the eye and you know there's more than somebody's telling you, Alex?"
"Like I'm looking at you and wondering, Michael?"
With a bit of nervousness, Michael replies, "Um yeah... right... okay, so right out Scotty tells me he didn't mean to, but did something with the chef-dude, but I told him I'm no better, telling him about Phillip and me in the cabin."
There was much missing in between, but from the general interpetation, Alex was getting the message that Michael and Scotty weren't coupled up as tightly as when they arrived here at the Stud Muffin Party. Wanting to hear it to the bitter end, he asks, "So, what does this all mean, Michael?"
Pressing for details, Michael was still on edge of being nervous, but at the same time welcomed the probing, because he wanted to clear the air.
"What Michael is trying to say is we're no longer lovers!"
It came from one of the lighted trees. Alex knew the voice, but the mass of white light temporarily blinded him. "So it's over between you two?" He was also feeling anxiety. Over the past months Alex has really developed a love for the two. First off, Michael, whom he rescued from the subway, brought him into their lives, then thinking about Scotty, whom Kyle had integrated into their lifestyle as live-in friends. However, above his own feelings he perceived, "But I get the feeling you two are alright with this?"
Making his advance, Scotty closed in on the duo, singling out Michael, putting his arm around his back in an affectionate caress as he informs Alex, "We're still going to be best friends."
It took some of the edge off and it came to Alex, the only thing left to do was to show his support. "O-oh you guys!" Throwing his arms around the two he hugged them tightly.
"Ahem!"
It was Kyle and Phillip, Kyle breaking up the camaraderie of the trio.
Alex states, "Scotty and Michael... I was just, well..."
"I know," Kyle replies.
All three look towards Phillip, standing behind Kyle. "I told him," Phillip more directs at Michael.
In turn, Michael addresses Kyle, asking, "Is that good or bad?"
And passing the buck, Kyle says as he looks at Scotty, "It's not for me to say. What's important is how you two feel about it. It's not my life, even though," and he draws his partner into this, "Alex and I are very concerned about the welfare of our close friends."
Scotty says, "We've talked it out and so far we're okay with it." But he felt a little strange with Phillip there, so alluded to, "I better go see what Aram is up to. He's responsible for all the banquet... he's quite comical, with the insight of knowing whether a guy likes or dislikes something he and his chefs have prepared." More a nervous response, he smiled as he left the company of his friends.
Deep down in side, Alex and Kyle knew the emotional buildup within Scotty and wondered what Michael was feeling. However, as Scotty departed, Phillip took up the slack, moving in to stand with Michael.
Kyle breaks the ice, saying, "So, is this the new Mr. and Mr. Michael Coelho?"
With affection, the two caress, Phillip saying, "Johnston-Coelho, or is Coelho-Johnston?"
Michael says, "How do they know which comes first?"
Alex guesses, "Top first? Bottom second?"
"I think Nouguet-Dryfiss would be best," Kyle replies.
Taking upon themselves to see a tender moment unfolding, Phillip makes reference to the h'orderves Alex and Michael were supposed to be heaping onto plates, Michael agreeing with moving on, saying, "I'm like starved. C'mon Phil!"
"What do you think?" Kyle asks Alex.
"Definitely 'Nouguet' before 'Dryfiss'", Alex replies.
"No, stoopid! I mean about Michael and Scotty... er, Phillip?"
"Only time will tell!"
%
"Why do I even bother?" Geoff says, pounding his fist on the wooden bench, located within the confines of the private sauna, an extension of the room he and his lover share.
Using Geoff's hairy ass as a cushion, most of his weight, Swifty's groin lays on top and leaning forwards, both hands massaging Geoff's shoulder blades as he replies, "Because you're so caring," he leans forwards, lips puckering up, "and gentle a man?" He begins giving Geoff littles pecks of affection along the ridges of his shoulder.
"I go to all the trouble of traveling out to the estate, do all this research into setting protocol for Cayman's Stud Muffin Party," and because of Swifty's ministrations, but not only, only as a reminder, "not to mention, spend the entire weekend away from you and what happens?"
Right now Swifty was listening, but also the feeling of his bod stretched out, his naked front making contact with Geoff's naked back and below, still following the gripe session he fell respondent to his lovers pouring out, "What?"
Having the sense to know his spent feelings were falling on somewhat deafening ears, Geoff tells, "Y'know it's not too comfortable having someone else pressing my bod into this wooden bench?"
Taking it in stride, Swifty replies, "Are you saying I'm putting on weight, Geoffie?"
"Well I can definitley feel it on my arse, but you're not the only one and these wooden slats are like murder on the chest, abs... and are like crushing the family jewels?"
Filled with comfort, Swifty comes up with the solution, "Can't you just push it between the slats?"
"At full proportions? Think Swif.... you've felt it between your own slats... do you think it's going to fit between the bench slats?"
"I suppose not," Swifty says, gently sliding one leg, then the other one to the floor, lightening the load on Geoff's back.
With Geoff getting up, sighing in relief as he fluffs up his genitals, Swifty stands there laughing. "You look like a fuckin' vertical candycane!"
Looking down upon himself, the indelible printing of the wooden slats has made small indentations up and down his bod, something even his bear-bod couldn't hide! "Sure laugh, but what am I gonna do about this?" he firms up his already hard shaft.
"The question should be," Swifty gets cute, "'what' do you 'want' to do with it Geoffie?"
Just then, the door to the sauna opens. "Oh excuse me. I wasn't sure this was occupied."
Geoff and Swifty turn their attention to a clothed man, appearing to be late-thirties, standing amoungst them.
"You don't look dressed for the occasion," Swifty tells him.
"Uh no. I'm sorry to bother you, but I was sent to check the place out, something about a faulty thermostat?"
In no time, the repairman's khaki outfit began resembling safari clothes, ones exposed to a hundred and ten degrees of steamy heat, the mid chest and back region soaked.
"It 'is' definitely getting hotter in here," Geoff mentions.
It wasn't too tough for the repair man to keep his mind on the heated conditions of the room, what with Swifty and Geoff standing there in the buff, their cocks still in the frozen-hard position.
"Oh yeah," the repairman replies, his free hand, the one not holding his toolbox, venting his collar.
Then, Geoff making it even hotter in there, says, "Like I was telling my partner here," he goes back to stroking his cock, which gets much eye contact, "it does seem to be getting hotter in here, so it's good you did come to fix the thermostat, um....."
"George," George drops the first name, his tongue giving his lips the once-over as he half pays attention to their faces and Geoff's stroking.
Game to Geoff's deception, Swifty says, "So George, how does one go about fixing a thermostat?"
"Huh?" George regrouped his thoughts, "Oh, the thermostat... um first I have to find out where the source of the trouble.... is."
Swifty looks at Geoff. He knows what his lover wants and it's not like they haven't discussed the occasional straying from fidelity. Fortunately, George was in the right place at the right time, where they were concerned, their late night sessions previously discussing the matter of a third or forth joining in on their private love-making, the decision made, if both were there, then playing around was permissible, as long as they both could enjoy in the merry-sex-making. So he furthers the conversation, "Tell me George, how would you go about fixing Geoff's thermostat?"
"Huh?" George says, not sure he understands what he's hearing. Sure, like almost all the other guys on the grounds of the Karlyle estate, attending the Stud Muffin Party, George is no stranger to the 'let loose and let go' attitude, a more or less fairytale land, letting perfectly loyally connected couples to seek out some of their wildest fantasies, as well as those of the single nature. He replies to Swifty, "Well there's really gotta be something wrong with the thermostat because it's really unbearably hot in here."
It was a hint, one which was read by unspoken minds, until Geoff says, "Well what're you waiting for George?"
"Here," Swifty says, taking the toolbox from George's hand, "let me put this outside the door. I wouldn't want anything to rust."
As they passed the handle of the toolbox from hand to hand, George's eyes made a beeline for Geoff's tool, saying, "That's quite a big heating element you got there Geoff." They weren't properly introduced, but George had caught Geoff's name in passing.
"Yeah, it can really spark up some fire if properly ignited."
He had unbuttoned his shirt, down to where it was tucked into his pants, but George was too horned up to complete the job, falling to his knees, placing a hand around the base of Geoff's big shaft, gulping it right in.
"Hungry bastard!" Swifty said upon return.
"Yeah. I betcha he can't wait to get it all primed up!" Geoff replies, then is silenced into moans and groans of ecstasy.
Not wanting to be left out, Swifty carries out the task of helping George out of his clothing. 'What luck!' he thinks as he kneels down behind George, finishing the stripping job, unbuckling and unbuttoning. One of the big turn-ons with Geoff was the hairy quality of his bod and he was feeling up the same, even though George was as sweat-dripping as they were. Still, as Swifty felt up George from behind, his hands traveling up the curvature of George's abs, he could feel the wet hair, not different from the dog he had when a kid, giving the dog a bath. He had to get a better look. In order to get George on the same level as far as clothing went, he had to interrupt Geoff's sweet ministrations.
This took another ten or fifteen minutes, Swifty the main valet, removing clothes, but also getting in on some of the threeway kissing. While he was lip-locking George, which he felt a decent kisser, Geoff bent over, took George by the balls and used his hand as leverage to draw George onto his pallet.
Unknowingly they could pretty much write the theater party off, the two enjoying having their thermostats adjusted, George being lucky he didn't have any other service calls for the night. In fact, much later when he lay in bed with Swifty and Geoff, he confessed it was an emergency call.
"Oh man you guys are really awesome!" George says, lying between the two.
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Back at the theater, a display of awesomeness was capturing the minds of the audience, a pre-show, live actors on stage, performances based on a rendering of scenes from movies of the past. Only difference in the original productions, each wasn't given with an all-male cast.
"Frankly stud, I don't give a damn!"
The wet butler, after tugging on the hand of man of the house, pulling him into the swimming pool at the Tara Estate, steps out of the makeshift swimming pool on stage, leaving his loosely fitting trunks falling to his feet.
"Oops!" he says, one hand as loose, trying to hide his goods as the other reaches for his wet suit around his ankles.
As one scene ends, another takes place, the theme song from 'Oklahoma' kicking in, a man arriving on stage by the name of 'Curly', a big bear with dark, curly hair and his arch enemy, 'Stud'. Instead of following the story line, it shoots off into another musical, Curly and Stud dueting the song, 'Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better'. Of couse it alludes to a promiscuous, sexual nature with a lot of gang-banging, more cast members, dressed up as horses, with fake, grotesque masks and loin cloths, the extras 'used' as Curly and Sam's pawns in doing battle.
So it went, till Cayman seemed to tire of the takeoffs of 'The Devil Wore Prada', a mean ogre with a whip, complete with a leather outfit, the name Prada inscribed here and there, driving his slaves in the office. One in particular kissing up to him, while the others stand in the wings, carrying on with their own mini-scenes.
As the live, on-stage pre-show segued into the premeire movie, presented by Ballintine Studios, featuring the awesome 'god' of porn, 'Gazilla', Kyle turns to Alex and says, "I liked 'Thunderball'."
"You would," Alex replies sarcastically.
"Well won't you feel as horny if you hadn't had your ass punctured in a whole month?"
"I don't swing that way, remember?" Alex replies.
And then it brought up a topic for discussion, Kyle rendering, "You know just because you say you're a top Alex, doesn't mean you can't try it?" And he continues the asking, "Have you ever tried getting fucked?"
"You already know the answer to that!"
"How do you know you don't like it?"
It was food for discussion, but for right now the credits were coming up on screen, integrated with the stars of the premeire movie, 'Do Me Right', coming out on stage, parading across, the main star, 'Gazilla', stripping off his briefs.
"Malfunction!" they overheard Phillip say, Michael the wiser saying, "Yeah, prepared malfunction!"
While the whistling, applause and other remarks are being thrown center stage, Kyle whispers to Alex, "Why don't you go meet Gazilla after the stage and see about playing with his 'toy'?"
Reading his lover's mind, Alex replies, "I'm 'not' getting fucked anytime soon and if it were, it would not be with a piece of timber that size, dah?"
"Well at least you're thinking about it Alex."
Flustered, Alex, even though he sat in his seat, sank into it. Rather than the cat and mouse routine, slinging positive and negative ends back and forth, Alex let it go. Though, it stuck in his mind, watching Gazilla walk down the side aisle, flanked by his bodyguards, over to where Cayman sat, watching as the two greeted each other. Maybe Gazilla had a bigger cock than him, but Alex sure felt superior, stroking himself gently so as not to be detected firming himself up, his juices flowing, telling him how hot it would be to stab him right where it counts. In his mind he was getting even for Kyle's remarks, saying, 'I'll show ya how to do it!'
Sitting next to him, the sole occupant of the aisle, Kyle smiled as he watched Alex zone in on the area around Cayman's seating. He even exhibited a toothy grin, glancing to Alex's lap, seeing him try to hide his hardness-in-the-manking. He would have loved to be a bird on Alex's wired mind, delving into his thinking, making heads and tales out of his thoughts. Though, with his pants filling quickly he could almost imagine, based on what he's said, plus the spectacle of the rising porn star, that Alex was basing his erection on what he's said.
%
After the movie were over, a mere hour and twenty minutes, there followed a reception in the same area as the pre-show get together. Only difference, wall panels had been juggled around to respond to a theme of partying, the addition of a DJ, strobe lights and more detailed food and drink. Immediately guys flocked to the bars.
"Water!"
Troy and Olav gazed at each other, the sameness of their reply striking Olav as, "I guess we both know what we want!"
Grabbing two tall glasses of bubbling spring water poured for them, the bartender lends a cheery smile and, "Straight from Tai Tapu, you got it!"
"Where?" Troy asks Olav.
"Beats me," Olav replies.
Wading through the crowd they visit with mostly Olav's contacts, him introducing Troy to all of the models he's known from the past, present company included.
"You sure know a lot of hot guys... um, ever... you know?" Troy tries hinting without saying.
"No, no-o-o. Like I said, I've been trying to lead a more celibate lifestyle, that is until I meet up with some guy I really care about," Olav replies.
Troy was trying to figure out if it might be him since Olav, since early this afternoon has consistently latched onto his hand and to him, somebody who has wanted to stay attached.... then it crossed his mind he was reading too much into this.
"Uncle Lloyd?"
Placing his hand on Troy's chest, Troy's uncle gives a little push, saying, "Here, you two stand right over there under the logo," he meant the Cayman Karlyle's Stud Muffin Party sign, "and let me get a picture or two of you."
"Sorry," Troy apologizes to Olav, just in case he had any reservations.
"I think it's a cool idea," Olav replies.
And then Troy was getting the idea that possibly this was how gay friends act, with Olav closing in from behind, running his hands in between his arms and bod, caressing him from the rear and as his uncle started snapping the lense like crazy, Olav stole the show, kissing him on the cheek, then ducking under an arm, assuming the 'pals' stance, his arm over Olav's shoulders.
"Now how about a nice 'closeness' shot?" Uncle Lloyd requests.
His jacket separating them from the back was one thing, but shirt to shirt, Troy sensed something very different. Too, smooshed together, he was feeling more than attached pecs!
As Uncle Lloyd is taking a field day, snapping up pictures of his one and only nephew, the two take the liberty to talk it up.
"Um, I don't know if it's the Tap Tattoo water or something else, but I'm feeling kind of strange, um, down there Olav?"
"OMG! You 'are' hard!" Olav mouths to Troy's facing him.
If he hadn't palled around all afternoon and evening with Olav, Troy might've have felt differently, but coupled with the excitement of the moment, too not wanting to show anything risque in front of Uncle Lloyd and his camera lense, he didn't react too much, fighting the feeling of Olav handling his zipper area.
"Um, Olav... can you like... not do that?"
"Do what?" he teased, his hand still drawing off the outline of Troy's semi-erection.
"That?" he meant Olav teasing him in front of the camera.
"On one condition?" Olav puts it to Troy, still a few lingering fingers.
"What?" Troy questions.
"You let me take care of it?"
Right now, it would be the most embarrassing situation in his life if Uncle Lloyd caught him with an erection, so Troy was ready to say anything.
Much later as they left the theater, breaking out into the cool freshness of the summer evening air, Olav says, "I'm sorry for putting you on the spot in there, Troy. It's cool if we don't follow up on what I suggested."
"It's okay," Troy replies, maybe a bit of a let down attached, "I mean about what you said."
Nonchalantly, Olav tells, "Normally I don't go throwing around phrases like that. It must've been the liveliness of the after-theater party."
Troy wasn't exactly getting it. First Olav seemed sincere, but now it was like he was backing out. More the tenderfoot, he didn't feel he should put the pressure on Olav, but something inside of him wanted to fight for the moment, so instead of staying reserved and holding back, he blurted out, "You shouldn't go saying things you don't mean, Olav!"
He surprised himself, but so was Olav caught off guard, him buckling up as he says, "Damn, Troy, I'm really sorry." And while he was at it, "And I am really sorry for feeling you up like that. Normally I'm not into grouping guys at parties."
"Have you ever groped a guy at a party?"
"No," Olav replies.
"Have you ever groped a guy?"
"No. What is this? Gitmo?"
Troy then felt like a jerk for going on and on about it. He then says, "I think I need to be water-boarded!"
Olav wondered what it meant, then seeing, yelled, "Are you crazy Troy?"
Maybe he was, but thought it was something he needed to do to help clear the air, soemthing zany, like a nice jump in the pool. Spitting water out of his mouth, he sticks out a hand and asks kindly, "Want to help me out?"
"You're crazy you know that? Jumping in the pool with your tux on!"
But doubly crazed was Troy, tugging instead of even making the effort to lift his wet-clothed bod out of the water, instead having Olav join him. Coming up coughing, Troy wondered if his prank were the wise thing to do. Instead of a ladder, Troy helped him swim to the place where one could gradually step into the big swimming pool.
"You don't know how to swim?"
"I can swim," Olav says, "a little."
"I learned when I was six months old. Uncle Lloyd taught me."
"Six months old?" Olav questioned. "All I did when I was six is sit around and woof down baby food!"
Troy laughed, proceeding, "Uncle Lloyd's been good to me. You know he took me on assignment plenty of times, trying to get me interested in photography?"
"And you liked it right? Up until Cayman offered you a career in modeling?"
For a few short seconds Troy thought about it, replying, "Olav, you look really good posing, especially without any clothes on, but for me, I don't think I can spend my life showing my whole self off to everybody in the world. I think I'm going to stick with photography, at least until I'm through college."
Both drenched in the pool, sitting on the third step of the wade in area, water mingling with their clothing, the tide running in and out of their shirt buttons, Olav turns sweet on Troy, saying, "Hey baby, nobody's making you do anything you don't want to do."
There it was again, Olav's hand on Troy's arm.
"Really? You support my decision?"
Going beyond the hand-to-arm touching, Olav's other hand snuck underwater till it skimmed the surface of Troy's wet thigh, saying, "Till the end of time."
Tossing it around a bit, 'till the end of time', Troy came up with, "End of time? That would mean...."
"You know us models have it good. We share suites, but there's a nice cozy fireplace to cuddle up in front of. What would you say to getting out of these wet clothes and sharing a spot with me?"
Also, without further 'water-boarding', Olav confessed he was an expert swimmer!
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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.....